Casino Themed Prom Dresses Uk

EP's try to pimp me out to an EK and try to ruin my life when I don't let them.

This all happened around 10 years ago and takes place over the course of the absolute worst months of my life. I had just turned 18 at the time, and thanks to my mom's gambling addiction we lost the house that I had lived in my entire life. Almost right after we lost the house a family friend offered to let us stay at her house with her family, since her and her husband had a few extra rooms.
We move into their very large house, and at first things were great. The family consisted of the EP's and their EK who was the same age as me. All of them were understanding and nice at first, offering to let me and my mom stay for as long as it would take for us to get back on our feet, EM even got me my first job working as a volunteer at a bingo hall. It was all under the table kind of money, but I didn't care since it was money in my pocket that my mom couldn't/wouldn't provide me.
EP's had been family friends for a very long time, and are absolutely enamored with the idea of me and EK getting together, and have been ever since we were little. They constantly made comments like "look at the beautiful couple", "you two look so great together" or "we'll give you lovebirds some privacy." whenever we were in the same place together. Despite me stating several times that I didn't like him in that way, they were determined to try to get us to work, like some kind of arranged marriage. I think that really fed into EK's ego, because about a month into my stay there is when the first incident happened.
We were walking down the hall when he smacks my ass from out of nowhere. I really freaked out and went off on him, yelling, cursing, and giving him a few shoves. Our parents came upstairs to see what all the yelling was about and we end up getting separated. I tell my mom what happened, and she responds by telling me "it wasn't a big deal" and to "not rock the boat" while we were living there. EK eventually gives some half assed apology to me at dinner and his dad made some joke about how he's relieved that he's finally taking an interest in girls, since they were starting to think he was gay.
Things proceeded to escalate from there. Any chance EK got he would make lewd comments or find some way to grope me. Everytime I went to his parents it was always hand waved away as "boys will be boys" or "he probably didn't mean it that way" that he was a really sweet guy deep down and I should get to know him better. On one occasion ED told me that I "should be flattered." My mom was content to not do anything, enjoying the freeloading that got to feed her addiction too much, and telling me to "stop playing hard to get."
One day EK puts a hand down my shirt as I'm sitting on the couch, and I started yelling at him about how I'm sick of him doing stuff like this and to never do it again, but he gave me the most terrifying glare and told me "Shut up! You live in MY house." After that I was so terrified of being alone with him that I would stay after school for as long as I could until l was asked to leave, and if I ever had to go back to the house for any reason. I would just hide in my room with the door locked and wouldn't come out until I knew other people were around, since I didn't know if one day he was just going to force himself on me.
Fast forward a few months and I'm told, not asked, that I'm going with EK as his date to his senior prom, which is in a week. EP's are super excited and tell me that we'll have the whole house to ourselves that night after we come back from the dance. I very quickly shut that down and tell them that I'm not going because of how EK treats me, and EP's spend the rest of the day doing everything they can to compel me. First they try telling me money isn't an issue, how they'll pay for my dress and ticket. When that doesn't work they try to guilt trip me, telling me how they ask me for so little,and how this is the least I can do, and how much EK would love it. Finally, my mom eventually hears about it after she comes home from the casino, and she's pissed. She tells me how I need to go, how it's such a big opportunity for the both of us, and how I need to tell the EP's that I changed my mind.
I refuse, and the day after after EK's prom is over EP's sit me and my mom down for a talk. They start implementing new rules, about how they now expect us to pitch in for all the amenities, how we're expected to buy our own food, and how they're going to start charging us for rent. Before all this, they were very adamant about us not paying for anything, wanting us to save money to get back on our feet. Even without my mom spending half or all of her checks at the casino, there was no way for us to afford what they were asking, and they subsequently gave us a month to find our own place and move out.
We ended up moving out to live in a sketchy neighborhood with some guy my mom was dating, whom she'd met at the casino. My mom blamed me for the entire thing saying I "blew a golden opportunity for both of us. " how I basically threw away a great future that was all laid out for me because I "wouldn't dance and put out." That cut me pretty deeply, and I still get angry thinking about it to this day.
Few months later I graduated, but my mom didn't show up to the ceremony. I come back to the house and all my stuff is sitting on the curb next to the trash, and had been thoroughly picked through. I found out my key doesn't work anymore, and nobody is picking up their phone. End up waiting till about 3 in the morning for them to come back from the casino and my mom tells me in so many words that I'm my own now. Nothing I say changes her mind, and I eventually pack what little of my stuff is left into my car.
I spent the next month or 2 couchsurfing or sleeping in my car, while trying to pick up as many days as I could at work. Eventually I managed to save up enough to move into my first apartment with a roommate. I haven't spoken to my mom or the EP's since then, but recently my mom left me a voicemail asking if we could talk, since she didn't like the way we left things. Since then, she's been blowing up my phone every day.
I don't plan on ever taking her call.
(Thank you to anyone who've read this far into my ranting and venting. I didn't intend for it to be this long.)
Update: I'm going to sound cliche as all hell, but I'm honestly overwhelmed by the amount of support I've received from you all. I would like to thank each and every one of you who left a comment, sent me a message, or offered advice as encouragement. I wish I could do something to repay you all, but for now I would just like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.
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Red v. Blue: Color Symbolism & Americana in Twin Peaks

Note: I'm writing this as someone who has watched the entire original series, Fire Walk With Me, The Missing Pieces, and The Return, as well as other features from Lynch's filmography (Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive, Elephant Man, Blue Velvet, Eraserhead); marked for spoilers now, do not proceed if you haven't seen them all. This is a longpost for Twin Peaks-obsessed nuts like me.
One of the things that remains a statement of the original incarnation (and thus, a statement by being substituted with HD digital cameras in The Return) is Twin Peaks's absolute mastery of the highly saturated 4:3 box TV aesthetic. I've heard Lynch was adamant the color palette not be corrected to a grittier, desaturated version when execs received the tapes. It's part of what's made so many iconic sequences and shots from the original run hallmarks of Tumblr and Instagram accounts aplenty. Twin Peaks came (and could be argued, ushered) on the precipice of a major shift in the television format. We would see the contemporary form of television media developed further with shows like The Sopranos in the HBO prime cable era, or The X-Files (no wonder Chris Carter plundered Twin Peaks's cast for his own attempt). As a marker for the end of the 80s and its preceding decades though, in many ways Twin Peaks to spoke to a form of TV largely since faded: soap operas and sitcoms and serials. It's part of why I loved the metatextual inclusion of the soap opera Invitation to Love, allowing the show to reference its own stylized dramaturgy.

Jade & Emerald... Jade give two rides, hm?
Very specifically, I find the series loves to riddle blue and red, like one oni to another. Fire and water. Hot-cold (like the shivery feeling Audrey gets when she holds an ice cube on her bare skin for a long time). The red and blue on Mike's TP varsity letterman jacket could be the most striking and concise marriage of this dynamic pairing. Donna & Maddie dive into this in the season 2 opener, scheming at the Double R (docked points for the silly jailhouse seduction routine by Donna, though). Subtler in palette but more obvious in Americana, Major Briggs's omnipresent blue uniform incorporates red in his breast patch (and Don S. Davis's ruddy-warm complexion, imo) speaking to his inherent patriotism as part of the Air Force. On more than one occasion Big Ed is spotted with a red & blue flannel.
Much to be said about the pairing of Bobby & Mike, comparing to BOB & MIKE; MIKE saw the face of God, but Bobby is the one who saw the light in this duo.
The flashing lights of a cop car. Dr. Jacoby's iconic 3D glasses-flavored shades (note that Jacoby and Ben both hailed from the Robert Wise-directed 1961 film adaptation of West Side Story, the famous 50s musical depicting rival gangs experiencing a Romeo & Juliet plot amidst culture clash in NYC). Lil the Dancer, communicating through expressive dance a coded message in FWWM. A barbershop quartet in the background behind Coop & Albert in "Coma".
I believe it's The Secret History of Twin Peaks book that is paired with red and blue filter lenses, so you can view certain hidden information? Either way, Lynch likes his 50s/60s Americana; reminds me of Castle Horror gimmicks.
The blue flower was a central Romanticism symbol; as blue roses don't occur in nature, they hold an air of mystery and fantastic possibility. Tennessee Williams used the blue rose to symbolize the fragile & unique character Laura(!!) in The Glass Menagerie.
The sign outside One-Eye Jack's. Red pairs often with green or black in gambling/casino situations; from the card deck motif for the sex workers to the mix-match patches of a roulette wheel. The malfunctioning lift for Leo in "The Orchid's Curse." The stage behind Julee Cruise during Roadhouse performances, especially "Lonely Souls." Even though the Red Room is known for its red, we see eventually that the Lodge holds strobing blue lights and the milky cataracts of doppelgangers. In a more peaceful sense, blue light washes over Laura as she smiles in the Lodge at the end of FWWM, reunited finally with her angel.
You can practically hear the buzz of the neon zapping into life from here. Knowing how important electricity is to Twin Peaks, these little details really stand out.
Ben and Jerry, at various times, switch between the two to complement each other much like the Miser Brothers. We also see it in Ben's interactions with Catherine; their affair in "Traces to Nowhere" finds Catherine clad in a powdery blue blanket, Ben's fiery tie, Catherine's ruby toenails (sidenote: not a fan of the Tarantino interaction). We see more of this Ben-Catherine color scheme in "Cooper's Dreams" during the Iceland convention with Leland's impromptu dancefloor breakdown. Ben, as central locus for Twin Peaks's criminal element, seems to be a lightning pole for these color dynamics. Notable is his integral need as a character to keep his publicly clean image and seedy underworld dealings separate, the perfect human symbol for Lynch's sequence in Blue Velvet's intro depicting the rotting & squirming insects buried beneath the idyllic Levittown surface of Lumberton. And Ben, even beyond his perennial cigar, enjoys many scenes by the fire of a hearth.
Ben floats through the two by himself on a regular basis, which I think ties into his role as the uber 80s corporate & cold American businessman, espousing social niceties & charm but hiding his sinister and impulsive skeletons in the closet. It's almost like he should be Lodge, but he's only run parallel to it as a human being.
Likewise, when it comes to the Lodge, BOB and the Man from Another Place/The Arm make a perfect red-blue pair. I noticed this especially in FWWM during the chaotic convenience store sequence. Given that during the night the sky can range from black as a cup of Coop's coffee to a Prussian shade, by following a Goethe color theory mindset, we can admit "Blue is a darkness weakened by light." BOB never comes off weak, but as a possessing spirit, for the viewer, his sudden appearances/reveals herald a (at times literal) spotlight into the black oil that is his essence (follow this link for a Youtube vid that informed some of my own theories). Goethe characterizes blue as common (think of country folk and bikers and truckers), as well as cold and melancholy, powerful. Red is much easier for The Arm; in addition to evoking the Christian iconography of a devilish imp figure, he is pure fire, the kind that truly walks with you (Goethe considers red as beautiful, dignified, closer to the essence of light; perhaps this echoes the Neoclassical Venus statue found often with Red Room curtains, or the red lipstick of the various beautiful women commonly prey to Twin Peaks).
BOB's always clad in blue denim to match The Arm's impish red suit. Noticeable since they remain the two most active agents as Lodge creatures, continuing the BOB/MIKE dualism that existed pre-show.
Given the only color left to throw in is white (HMM,, White Lodge? Sarah's pale horse? Leland's hair? The stuffed arctic fox in Ben's office? That weird long-faced elk thing at the Packard-Martell house? Pete and Coop enjoying/trying to order a mug of milk? The Tremond/Chalfont boy's white mask?) and you have the Star-Spangled Banner itself (the mini-flag at Twin Peaks Sheriff's office that flanks Coop while he's sitting across the table from Dr. Jacoby, as well as Coop's fixation on the full-sized incarnation while he's in the Bros. Fusco's office during his Dougie stint in The Return, are just two instances). Notable as a tri-color national aesthetic, red white & blue sometimes finds its way back in altered forms: straightforward visual representation with the Icelandic investors, as well as more tonally & artistically-derived influence from Lynch's favorite country (we'll forget the agonizing French hookup leaving scene from The Return and think more of Monica Bellucci's dream sequence, or Ben & Jerry orgasming over fresh baguettes with brie).
Great shot from Tim Hunter here.
Part 9, \"This is the chair.\" I remember this sequence being a spark of sorts, tantalizing to see Coop stir somewhat from his Dougie stupor.
While it should come as no surprise an American show would have many American-specific themes, I'm often convinced that Lynch is using the visual shorthand to simultaneously sing, criticize, celebrate, and reflect on what it means to be America. It is not coincidence that Dale Bartholomew Cooper's name reflects the notorious Pacific Northwest hijacker D.B. Cooper, or Harry Truman with the 33rd President (who, mind you, ordered the atomic bombs dropped in WWII). Or Franklin "Frank" Truman with the 32nd, for that matter. Coop openly ponders the Kennedy assassination (itself rife for conspiracy theories and speculation, much like TP) in a log to Diane, as well as Marilyn Monroe's involvement with the family; who else is Laura Palmer but a hometown Monroe?
Much like D.B. Cooper, Coop took a historic leap.
I would love to dig down deep and really review all of his work to understand more about Lynch's fixation on Lincoln (a portrait is in the Donna/James classroom when Laura's death is announced; a dramatic shot in Blue Velvet fixates on Lincoln Street which divides the town's good/bad parts & has an antagonist by the name of Booth; the "Gotta light?" Woodsman in The Return).
Now if someone could explain this connection... Dick says this right before the fire alarms go off and swamp Leland with water while BOB rams Leland's head in to break his last vessel and escape from justice.
Why Lincoln? I refer to it as The House Divided. Lincoln is one of the most recognizable presidents, partially due to his assassination (Kennedy echo), partially due to his role in the Civil War and how America resolved its most divisive internal conflict. He's emblematic of the Old America and the New America, slavery and post-slavery, secession and preservation. Somewhat like Republicans & Democrats, red v. blue. We know the toy Lincoln Logs, we hear the term Lincoln Lawyer, he's even one of the faces on Mt. Rushmore (referenced explicitly in The Return - "There they are Albert, faces of stone"- as well as compositionally in "Cooper's Dreams"); given the existence of both a Black Lodge and White Lodge in mythos, I think it's safe to draw at least some broad comparison to black America and white America (as well as Windom Earle's fetish for chess). Even as a goofier entry during Season 2's decaying period, Ben's mental lapse into General Robert E. Lee and fixation on the Civil War (mirroring Johnny Horne's fixation with the indigenous headdress and colonist America) gives some meat to this motif. Although it's never quite outright verbalized in show, one gets the sense that America is inherently built on some original sins. The water in the well was poisoned before the Trinity test
Notable too for the context of having Hawk (Nez Perce) included in this recreation. Mt. Rushmore was originally a sacred place for the Lakota Sioux; its present condition is considered desecration to their culture. America in its current incarnation was founded on the genocide and forced relocation of its indigenous peoples; Twin Peaks is loaded with Native American patterns and imagery, i.e. The Great Northern.
Note as well that red, by itself, can easily be tied to Twin Peaks's lifeforce, and by extension Lynch's entire repertoire. Fire. Red velvet curtains. Lipstick and nail polish. Blood. Pete's fisherman flannel. Audrey's heels, and her cherry trick. Norma's cherry pie. Log Lady's frames. "Let's rock" on Agent Desmond's car in FWWM. The women at One-Eye Jack's. The blooming roses peaking through white picket fences in Blue Velvet. The vast majority of neon signage (The Roadhouse especially). The traffic light at Sparkwood & 21. Leo's ostentatious Corvette. The lifeline zigzags on the high school walls. MIKE, in Philip Gerard, is fond of red tops, connecting him directly with The Arm. Much is made of Twin Peaks's proximity to Canada in the original series; the corrupt Mountie during the internal investigation arc stands out. The balloons at Dougie's corporate plaza. The Scarlet Letter. Lancelot Court, red door. Laura Palmer's Secret Diary.
Night time, my time. Red can be a carnal color, igniting passion, but also a warning to stop, turn back. Often we find it in the company of characters who have experienced a lot in Lynch's world, and not too much good.
And blue too. Blue is much more sparing in Twin Peaks, to greater mystical effect. Blue Rose. Laura's cold lips in the Pilot. Blue Velvet. Isabella Rossellini's dramatic eyeshadow as Dorothy Vallens. The waitress outfits at the Double R Diner. Leo's button-down when Shelly shoots him. The light in the morgue as Hawk tails Philip Gerard. The lifeline zigzags on hospital monitors (how they spike with Ronette, how they fall flat when Leland strangles Jacques). Ronette is swaddled in soft blue blankets during the S2 opener, her tilted head recalls Marian imagery (interesting from a Madonna-Whore complex standpoint); two episodes later her IV drip is tainted with blue dye, a visit from BOB. Maddie Ferguson's nightgown during her carpet-stain vision. Coop's iconic jammies. Rita's blue key & Betty's blue box in Mulholland Drive. The woman's hair at Club Silencio. Whenever television sets or camera footage shows up onscreen in Twin Peaks, there's a noticeable cool blue tint: think of that first tape, Laura & Donna dancing in the woods; the static showcased in the opening credits to FWWM; the footage of Coop gambling, obsessed over by Jean Renault. Gordon & Albert speaking together after meeting with Mr. C and watching Tammy walk away. Flashes of lightning. The sign at the Luna Lounge, where Fred Madison plays his discordant sax solo in Lost Highway.
Two dead girls wash up in the water. Calhoun Memorial's morgue stays bathed in blue light. Louise Bourgeois claimed it as hallmark, stating blue left behind \"the drabness of day-to-day reality\" for \"a world of freedom\", inner truths. BOB is certainly free.
Beyond red and blue, the colors I tend to notice in Twin Peaks are pink and green (notable for following a warm/cool polarization as well), which do not concern themselves to the same extent with Americana, if at all. Pink is much more sparse in its application, typically feminine: Nadine's prom dress during her suicide attempt in the S1 finale; Naido/Diane's bathrobe in The Return; the drapes behind the new One-Eyed Jack's girl Ben sleeps with in "Zen" (purposefully designed to evoke a vagina, in my opinion); fudging into purple, but we can count the Mauve Zone and Coop's run-in with Naido to an extent; Gersten Hayward's princess outfit during her piano performance for the Palmers; the trio of Candie, Mandie & Sandie; the gut-churning Pink Room sequence from FWWM with Laura & Donna.
Candie was a surprising standout for The Return. I felt these girls were a commentary on One-Eyed Jack's in the way the Mitchum Bros. were commentary on Ben & Jerry; where Ben & Jerry enjoyed public acceptance but indulged in dark secrets and ran through vulnerable sex workers, Bradley & Rodney have a dark reputation/entrance but ultimately possess hearts of gold, rescuing at-risk women like these three.
Green is more expansively utilized, and supernatural in tone: the billowing leaves of those Douglas firs in an ominous breeze; the iconic Twin Peaks font's outline; the guiding light we see through Dougie's eyes (which I assume has always been a part of Coop's psyche and intuition); Dougie's iconic oversized jacket; the infamous Owl Cave ring; the vintage lampshade adorning Ben's desk; the childhood bike Ben fondly recalls in The Return; the framed picture of the tall pine in the Sheriff's Department lobby; the tiny fir stuffed by the partition in the Palmer household; Jade & Emerald, even. Ben says to Leo, conspiring to burn the mill in "The One-Armed Man" - "Three nights, Leo. Green light." Something about it reminds me of Jay Gatsby's over-analyzed yearning green light from the F. Scott Fitzgerald classic; the idea of the American Dream with wanton capitalism, and how it's impossible to achieve (am I crazy for thinking there's a connection between Big Ed's Gas Farm's neon egg sign and the West Egg/East Egg class divide?).
Of course, the owls are watching. Much like the eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg.
Ed's business harkens to how convenience stores (early-to-mid-century modernist American consumerism) were both the pumping blood and desiccated bone of our culture, as well as the Woodsmen womb. It also reminds me of old-style egg timers, and what is Twin Peaks but a show obsessed with the manipulation and perception of time? Was it the chicken or the egg that came first? Is it future or is it past?
By the time of The Return, we have lost these overly saturated tones, but the direct symbolic use of color is still integral to a Peaks viewing. I find it even more interesting that The Return made extensive use of black & white footage. Eraserhead and The Elephant Man alike (I've found both hold the spores for concepts and aesthetics fully developed in Lynch's later filmography, like the chevron Lodge floor pattern we all dearly love) were filmed in this manner; I feel Lynch chose this as nod to this earlier work, as well as the old formats of pre-color TV and film, like WWII newsreels. I find it relevant as well that older generations dream in black & white, a vanishing phenomenon which is directly related to the media of their era. B&W film informed the visual rhetoric of their unconscious minds; we, as younger Americans, dream in Technicolor.
This is the first shot we see of The Elephant Man. Notice how this is specifically his left arm, hand floating over the flame. Later in the film during a particularly moving sequence, Merrick first proves he is capable of speech for the first time by reciting the 23rd Psalm in a louder and louder tone, mirroring Annie Blackburn's prayers while Windom Earle led her bound into the Lodge.
The black & white sequences occur within the Lodge, relate directly to the Lodge - may Part 8 live forever in its atomic power - or otherwise involve unexplained phenomena (Cole's Monica Bellucci dream). By the time of The Return, a disconnect with the past and nostalgia is a core theme. The colors have faded. Coop, a half-baked shadow of himself, only gets restored by the chance mention of Gordon Cole's name in Sunset Blvd. Note Billy Wilder's 1950 film revolves around an aging actress lost in the reverie of her long-gone prime. (Also note her insistence, when William Holden's character asks her about the Salome film script, she's not conducting a "comeback" but a *return*; this, I feel, ties in as well to Major Briggs's underappreciated vision scene, emphasizing the idea of a return.) Although not shot in black & white, Pete, assisting Catherine as she tears apart their library, pauses for a moment during "The Last Evening" to linger on his high school yearbook. He's lost in the old pre-color photos, in the memory of Midge Jones, a man we never know. He's returned to a place in his youth, much like Garland's return to the gleaming, radiant marble of the fantastic palazzo in his S2 vision.
These two live in a retro-futurist Art Deco fever dream, accompanied the very appropriate Slow 30s Room soundtrack piece. Everything about the Fireman & Senorita Dido tells me of an America past its prime. I'm also convinced this was what Lynch envisioned for Briggs's palazzo; if only Don S. Davis was alive for The Return.
There's a plethora more I could get into, definitely for another thread: the preoccupation with trinities, animals, rings, technology, fine art references, and sonic elements are on my mind as well. I need to rewatch The Return again soon so more connections and thoughts are present. Let me know if you guys enjoyed this rambling mess!
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“i didn’t touch her”

this happened a couple months ago but still gets to me so i’ll post here, this guest was just a perv
guest was completely inappropriate with some young girls staying at the hotel he must’ve been like 50-60. Guest asked me for information on nearby casinos, while asking me, 3 young girls in prom dresses walk by and he completely gawks at them, checks them out and tells them they look great and overly compliments them... these are young girls and they were evidently very uncomfortable. They said thank you and the guest said "No thank you..." and didnt keep his eyes off them. He then said thank you to me and walked off following the girls to the elevators saying "girls wait for me!!"
I ALMOST walked back to the front desk but something told me to watch them till they got on the elevator. That was when I saw this absolute PERVERT grope one of the girls ass and she looked SO scared and uncomfortable. I yelled over to this creep and demanded he not touch her, and I repeated it again “do not touch her, get away".
I was so disgusted that I forget that I am 4’11, alone at the front desk, and am yelling like i’m 6ft.
The elevator opened and the girls quickly stepped in and this creep was about to follow them and I once again shouted "No, step away. You are not to go near those girls I saw you touch her." I heard the girls yell out "thank you" from the elevators. so this pervert came towards and claimed he didn't touch her. I told him "I saw you grab her ass, we don't do that here. Do not touch her." I went to the phone as if I was going to make a phonecall and he said he didn't touch her once more and walked away. I did not get his room number till later when he was drunk and needed a key to his room. Turns out he is in the army.
Those girls came down later during my shift and thanked me for saying something, I told them it was no problem and I just wanted to make sure they were okay.
there’s always gonna be some type of creep no matter how much honor they hold
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Junior year.

Continuing from my last story, I forgot multiple things that needed to be added. First would be her name, Lisa is her name I'll be giving her. He's a tall woman with beautiful hair. In this I'll be looking at junior year of the yandere chronicles.
After coming back to school, it was a joyous moment. But I also couldn't help but feel I was missing something. Coming back to school it would only be me, and Lisa. She made certain that I was, would be the only one I got close to. I was allowed friends, but she was to the one i spent the most time with. I didn't mind that, all of the outcast group was disbanded since we found other friends. So it was mostly me and her alone. At this time, I could feel depression forming on myself. ³ didn't want it to affect how my life was so I did most of the things other highschool boys did. I bottled it up, in a real world no one cares if you're stable or not. It only matters if you are able to contribute. So Lisa helped me feel whole when I was near her. She always kept a close tab on me. She would call my number when I was a bit late to our lunch table. Would find me in the after school study hall to see if I was cheating. Along with walk with me to and from school to my quarters where I was living. During the first week of school I felt alot of pressure on me. Before I went to school I over heard my parents. Normally I don't intrude, but I couldn't help it this one time. As I was leaving from my room to the bathroom late at night I could hear them talking. That was the first time i lost hope in my life. When you been pushed around and all your faith in a thing hasn't helped you. You begin to lose faith, that's how I was with christianity. I was raised in a Lutheran school, church, and academy. But once I entered a school where none of that existed, I felt accepted. No longer bullied or made fun of. But I found others who I could could bond with. That apparently to my parents also ment I was being influenced, rather than accepting the blame they shifted it to me. Overhearing them I went back to sleep, in the morning I was in for a surprise. My parents before sending me to school had me sit and talk to them. It went on mostly about me accepting that I no longer had faith, once I was asked why I did the same thing as always. "I've worshipped this so called god all my life, if he doesn't answer my pled when I've asked for nothing else. I'm mo longer believing in him" I was sent to school with a slash over my face. My dad wasn't afarid to strike anything he saw threatening. I knew it wasn't the end of that, it would be a long fight before he accepted to move on. So I felt as if i could've done something better when in reality i couldn't. So when I got to school she immediately noticed my face. Talking her what happened I could see her emotions changing. As we finished talking the class bell ring. So waving her I went to turn to get to class, but I felt a chill go down my spine. I had to ignore it to get to class on time so I thought little of it. After two days I returned home but I felt fear overcome me. I left the house because of religion, but now I'm entering a religious house again. I had nothing against them, but I felt like another outcast. In my own family. About wanting to break down I went inside. I found Lisa, my dad, my mother, and Lisa's dad all sitting at the dining room table. I pulled up a table and felt the words hit me in fear "When were you going to tell us" my father asked me. I lost all hope, Lisa she was in a different league of her own. So I just owned up, I told them that I I couldn't handle what I was doing. So as I sat at the table I felt Lisa heel rest on my foot. Feeling a bit of comfort I heard my dad get out of his chair. Hearing his footsteps, I could feel his presence standing over me. Placing an object on the table I looked up. I had either forgotten, or felt It was something i wasted my time on. Lisa brought all of our second and first place chess championship trophies. In freshmen year when I met her we both would play chess, over time we learned we could entered tournaments and would. So we entered and played, most of the time we would get second, but when we got first I felt Lisa deserved it along with the others in our team. But one tournament we got third place, a bronze medal. I love the color of bronze, more than gold and silver so I took it home and just changed it on my wall. So no one I'm my family knew about it. Lisa after seeing how I must've felt at school, came down to my house with her father. Showed then all of our medals we got from tournaments we would enter in our schools name. I never questioned how she knew my parents schedule, but I felt happy when I knew she showed them that I did more than they thought. During school I felt as if something was changing. Lisa would check up on me much more frequently. About the end and start of each class, sometimes I would see her run across campus just to see how I was doing. She always knew what to say to me, her words were like honey. Which helped alot, for when you feel like you messed up in life. You begin to think everything you've done is a waste.
Enough on the emotional stuff, they will have to be another time, forever ahh who cares. Lisa had become very watchful of me. Never was I to leave her side at school except for the three out of eight classes we had. All group projects were both did were to be done at her house. But the one that got me the most, was when she would invite me over to her house, just to nap. She would have me come over. Eat a bit of dinner, and sleep. Sometimes I would be sleeping on her bed, before I would hear a camera shutter. I even watched glimpses of her taking a photo. She was nice to be around, I felt whole around her. Sometimes she would get mad at her and I would apologize. But I always treated myself like a servant to her. I never felt accepted before I met her, she would get mad I would do that. But I was too scared to show her how I felt.
We get to the junior night prom. It was a whole week before the dance, but I didn't feel it was my time to go. I never been to a dance, since I haven't been asked to. So I felt it was something for the sports players and beautiful kids. The whole week I kept seeing everyone being confessed to, but when I asked Lida if she was going I kept getting a remark or snarl. So I took it as a no from her, feeling disappointed I just left it at that and stayed at home. It started to roll about ten past eight, before I heard a knock at my door. My parents had decided to go out and play at the casino, so it was just me alone. Answering the door, I was schoked. As I looked up, I saw a bronze tone, tall girl in a pink dress and her hair in a ponytail. Immediately recognizing who she was I let open a smile. Before being punched in the gut, I cloud still feel the pain before i dropped to my knees. Apparently she was waiting for me to ask her to the dance this whole week. I misunderstood and decided i wouldn't go, she waited around seven for me to arrive. But when the dance started at seven-thirty. She knew I wasn't coming and decided to pay my house a visit. I felt soo much like an a**hole, Inviting her in I naturally feel back into my servant mode and brought her whatever foods I had she liked. As I did she explained that she waited for me at the dance and decided to visited after I wasn't planning on attending. She made it clear, that she knew I wasn't all there. That I was in some land way over my own head.
Next time I'll go into the second haft of the year, that will have to be a post of its own. Be safe and peace out.
submitted by Thunderbird9008 to yandere [link] [comments]

What's happening around town (Wed, Nov 6th - Tue, Nov 12th)

Tulsa's event list.

Wednesday, Nov 6th

Thursday, Nov 7th

  • America in Concert (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Hear classic rock band America live as they take the stage at The Joint inside Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa.…
  • Brown Bag It: Tulsa Opera Big Sing (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 12:10pm
  • Tulsa Cacti and Succulent Society November Meeting (Tulsa Garden Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Join us for cacti conversation, refreshments and fellowship!
  • Color Breed Congress (Expo Square - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 9th The Pinto Horse Association of America, Inc. presents the Color Breed Congress, a show exhibiting four separate horse breeds…
  • Deviant Gaming: Race and Gender in Video Game Culture (University of Tulsa - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm
  • 😂 Greg Morton (Loony Bin - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 9th
  • 🎭 Love, Loss, and What I Wore (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 16th Start Time: 8:00pm November 7 – 17, 2019 Liddy Doenges Theatre, Tulsa Performing Arts Center A play of monologues and ensemble pieces about women, clothes and memory covering all the important subjects — mothers, prom dresses mothers, buying bras, mothers, hating purses (did we mention mothers?) and why we only wear black. Based on the bestselling book by…
  • The Mother Hips (The Vanguard - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm
  • Rascal Flatts in Concert (River Spirit Casino - Tulsa) Don't miss country music band Rascal Flatts live onstage at Paradise Cove in Tulsa. Known for chart-topping…
  • Unite!: End of Campaign Celebration (Tulsa) Start Time: 5:30pm A celebration of the end of the 2019 United Way Campaign including a surprise reveal of the total amount raised.
  • Woke Gaming: Hyper Visible Bodies (Oklahoma Center for the Humanities - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Join us for a talk by professor Kishonna Gray, author of Race, Gender, & Deviance in Xbox Live. Gray will discuss the reality of women and people of color in the gaming community. Gray is an Assistant Professor in Communication and Gender and Women's Studies at the University of Illinois at Chicago. She is also a Faculty Associate at the…

Friday, Nov 8th

  • Color Breed Congress (Expo Square - Tulsa) 1 day left The Pinto Horse Association of America, Inc. presents the Color Breed Congress, a show exhibiting four separate horse breeds…
  • Crayons Improv Comedy Show (Heritage United Methodist Church - Broken Arrow) Get ready to laugh at this family-friendly, improvised comedy show. Crayons Improv uses audience suggestions, participation…
  • Danny Baker CD Release Party (Blackbird On Pearl - Tulsa) Start Time: 9:00pm
  • 🎭 The Deaths of Sybil Bolton (Dennis R Neill Equality Center - Tulsa) Thru Sun, Nov 10th Start Time: 7:30pm from the book by Dennis P. McAuliffe, Jr. adapted for the stage and directed by David Blakely
    Performances: Nov. 1 & 2, 8 & 9 at 7:30PM Nov. 9 & 10 at 2:00PM
    Lynn Riggs Black Box Theater, Dennis R. Neill Equality Center 621 E. 4th St.
    HTC Playwright-in-Residence Emeritus David Blakely returns to recount a shocking true-life piece of Oklahoma…
  • 🎭 Dragons Love Tacos and Other Stories (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Presented By: Tulsa PAC Trust Imagination Series Dragons love all sorts of tacos — except spicy ones! Find out what happens when a boy throws his new dragon friends a taco party in this musical revue of beloved contemporary children's books that features excerpts from "Dragons Love Tacos," "Interrupting Chicken," "The Dot," "Mercy Watson Goes…
  • Giving Spirits (Cain's Ballroom - Tulsa) At Giving Spirits in Tulsa, prepare to try a wide variety of delicious whiskeys and specialty drink creations. Enjoy live…
  • 😂 Greg Morton (Loony Bin - Tulsa) 1 day left
  • Harlem String Quartet (Oklahoma Jazz Hall of Fame - Tulsa) Start Time: 8:00pm
  • 🎓 Jurassic Quest (Cox Business Center - Tulsa) Thru Sun, Nov 10th Start Time: 3:00pm 🚨 Jurassic Quest is COMING to Tulsa, OK! Go back in time 60 million years and see more than 80 gigantic, walking, breathing animatronic dinosaurs. Featuring MORE baby dinosaurs, activities, and dinosaurs than ever before!!! 🦖 Jurassic Quest has been the LARGEST & MOST REALISTIC dinosaur event in North America since 2012, and it's now even…
  • 🎭 Love, Loss, and What I Wore (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 16th Start Time: 8:00pm November 7 – 17, 2019 Liddy Doenges Theatre, Tulsa Performing Arts Center A play of monologues and ensemble pieces about women, clothes and memory covering all the important subjects — mothers, prom dresses mothers, buying bras, mothers, hating purses (did we mention mothers?) and why we only wear black. Based on the bestselling book by…
  • MercyMe in Concert (BOK Center - Tulsa) Best-known for their Billboard Decade Award-winning tracks like "Word of God Speak," contemporary Christian…
  • ORU Golden Eagles vs Texas State Bobcats (Mabee Center - Tulsa) The ORU Golden Eagles women's basketball team strives for success on the court. Watch the team work together toward…
  • 🎓 Play With Me: A Parent/Child Workshop (Owasso Library - Owasso) Playing is learning! Join us for a three-week play workshop series for parents and children ages 1-3. Class size is limited. Registration is required and is for all three weeks of the series. Each program offers opportunities for children to play with developmentally appropriate toys in a play group atmosphere. Early childhood specialists also…
  • WILD AT ART 2019 (Tulsa Garden Center - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 Start Time: 12:00pm The 7th Annual Wild At Art will be held at the beautiful Tulsa Garden Center, November 8-9 (Friday 12:00-7:00 & Saturday 10:00-4:00). This FREE event is a fundraiser that helps pay for the expense of feeding and treating the wildlife in our care through-out the year. Join us for this great opportunity to purchase unique gifts for the…

Saturday, Nov 9th

  • 🎓 2019 Dancing with the Tulsa Stars (Cox Business Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 6:00am Join us as a group of Tulsa icons takes the floor to compete in the 7th Annual Dancing with the Tulsa Stars. It's sure to be a wonderfully fun night of ballroom dancing to support San Miguel School of Tulsa. **Our 2019 dancers will be announced soon. Make sure to follow Dancing with the Tulsa Stars: Benefitting San Miguel Middle School to stay…
  • All Things Crafty Arts & Craft Fair (Case Community Center - Sand Springs) Located in the heart of Sand Springs, the All Things Crafty Arts & Craft Fair will feature over 40 booths filled…
  • Antry at Casta Diva: Casino Royale (Southern Hills Country Club - Tulsa) Start Time: 6:00pm Benefitting the Tulsa Opera.. Get ready to buy some tickets and tables! Antry is a regionally touring, award winning, blues/rock band, covering a mix of...
  • 🎭 Barnum the Musical (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 Start Time: 8:00pm Barnum the Musical Nov. 2-3, 9-10 at 8 p.m.; Nov. 4, 10 at 2 p.m. :: John H. Williams Theatre Season Tickets The true-life story of The Greatest Showman! Step right up and feast your eyes on the unbelievable tale of P.T. Barnum! Featuring touching tunes, d... GET TICKETS
  • Ben Miller Band (Blackbird On Pearl - Tulsa) Start Time: 9:00pm
  • Chandler Park Family Park Art (Chandler Park - Tulsa) Start Time: 11:00am $2/child. Nature provides the supplies; you make the art! Register by 11/6. No fee for parents. Sign up by phone/at location. 918-591-6053
  • Color Breed Congress (Expo Square - Tulsa) Last Day The Pinto Horse Association of America, Inc. presents the Color Breed Congress, a show exhibiting four separate horse breeds…
  • 🎓 Dancing With the Tulsa Stars (Cox Business Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 6:00pm Join us for a fun night of cocktails, dinner and competitive ballroom dancing (pairing six celebrity dancers with six professional dancers) to support the students of San Miguel Middle School.
  • 😂 Dear Diary: Adults Sharing Their Teen Diaries (IDL Ballroom - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:30pm Host: Story Club of Tulsa
  • 🎭 The Deaths of Sybil Bolton (Dennis R Neill Equality Center - Tulsa) 1 day left Start Time: 7:30pm from the book by Dennis P. McAuliffe, Jr. adapted for the stage and directed by David Blakely
    Performances: Nov. 1 & 2, 8 & 9 at 7:30PM Nov. 9 & 10 at 2:00PM
    Lynn Riggs Black Box Theater, Dennis R. Neill Equality Center 621 E. 4th St.
    HTC Playwright-in-Residence Emeritus David Blakely returns to recount a shocking true-life piece of Oklahoma…
  • 🎭 The Drunkard and the Olio (Tulsa Spotlight Theatre - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:30pm
  • 🏃 Eagle OPS / Oklahoma DAV Welcome Home 5K (Mohawk Park - Tulsa) The DAV 5K is a run, walk, roll and motorcycle ride that thanks those who served and raises awareness of the issues our veterans face every day.
  • 😂 Greg Morton (Loony Bin - Tulsa) Last Day
  • 🏃 Jenks Half Marathon (Jenks) 7:30 am Half Marathon Start 7:45 am 5km Start
    This will be the 40th running of the Jenks Half. The race starts and finishes at the Jenks HS track and will run on a mix of flat and rolling hills west of downtown Jenks. The course is controlled by Jenks and Tulsa Police departments but is open to traffic.
  • Harlem Quartet (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 Chamber Music Tulsa's 66th season draws inspiration from the Mother Road, a symbol of American adventure and…
  • Heart of Broken Arrow Arts & Craft Show (Central Park - Broken Arrow) Find something your heart desires at the annual Heart of Broken Arrow Arts & Craft Show. This one day event will feature…
  • 🏃 Claremore Hope Race (Claremore Lake Park - Claremore)
  • Jo Koy (Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Tulsa - Catoosa) Head to the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Catoosa for a hilarious night of stand up with Jo Koy. Rising from a Las…
  • 🎓 Jurassic Quest (Cox Business Center - Tulsa) 1 day left Start Time: 3:00pm 🚨 Jurassic Quest is COMING to Tulsa, OK! Go back in time 60 million years and see more than 80 gigantic, walking, breathing animatronic dinosaurs. Featuring MORE baby dinosaurs, activities, and dinosaurs than ever before!!! 🦖 Jurassic Quest has been the LARGEST & MOST REALISTIC dinosaur event in North America since 2012, and it's now even…
  • 🎭 Love, Loss, and What I Wore (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 16th Start Time: 8:00pm November 7 – 17, 2019 Liddy Doenges Theatre, Tulsa Performing Arts Center A play of monologues and ensemble pieces about women, clothes and memory covering all the important subjects — mothers, prom dresses mothers, buying bras, mothers, hating purses (did we mention mothers?) and why we only wear black. Based on the bestselling book by…
  • 🏃 McNellie's Pub Run (Downtown - Tulsa)
  • Rock 'N Folk 'N Chili Cook-Off (Cain's Ballroom - Tulsa) Tulsa folk musicians take the Cain's Ballroom stage every year for the Rock N' Folk N' Chili Cook-Off. Hear…
  • 🏃 Route 66 Mock Marathon and Half (RunnersWorld Tulsa - Tulsa) Run the Route 66 marathon and half course. Saturday November 9, 2018, 7am
    Here is your chance to run the Williams Route 66 Marathon and Half Marathon Course. This is not a race, however a minimum $5 donation is required. Limited aid will be provided on the course of Gatorade, water and pretzels. Snacks will be provided after the event. We…
  • Sea Turtle Birthday Party (Oklahoma Aquarium - Jenks) Start Time: 2:00pm Celebrate our loggerhead sea turtle's 25th birthday with special treats, gifts, and fun activities for everyone on Saturday, November 9, from 2-4 p.m.! We'll reveal the new name of our turtle, and you'll find out how you can help save the sea turtles from right here in Oklahoma. Cost: Free for members; general admission for non-members. Don't…
  • Second Saturday Architecture Tour (Tulsa) Take a fun and educational walking tour through downtown Tulsa the second Saturday of each month with the Tulsa Foundation…
  • Wanenmacher's Tulsa Arms Show (Expo Square - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 The Wanenmacher's Tulsa Arms Show is one of the largest firearms shows in the world. This show features more than…
  • WILD AT ART 2019 (Tulsa Garden Center - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 Start Time: 12:00pm The 7th Annual Wild At Art will be held at the beautiful Tulsa Garden Center, November 8-9 (Friday 12:00-7:00 & Saturday 10:00-4:00). This FREE event is a fundraiser that helps pay for the expense of feeding and treating the wildlife in our care through-out the year. Join us for this great opportunity to purchase unique gifts for the…
  • WILD MAN (TU Dept of Theatre and Musical Theatre and Dance - Tulsa) Day 1 of 2 The TU Department of Theatre will present a concert reading of Wild Man by K.T. Peterson, on November 9th and 10th. Wild Man is the winning script of the...

Sunday, Nov 10th

  • Annie Moses Band: From Copland to Cash (Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center - Broken Arrow) Start Time: 7:30pm
  • 🎭 Barnum the Musical (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 Start Time: 8:00pm Barnum the Musical Nov. 2-3, 9-10 at 8 p.m.; Nov. 4, 10 at 2 p.m. :: John H. Williams Theatre Season Tickets The true-life story of The Greatest Showman! Step right up and feast your eyes on the unbelievable tale of P.T. Barnum! Featuring touching tunes, d... GET TICKETS
  • Billy Corgan in Concert (Cain's Ballroom - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm See Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins live as he graces the Cain's Ballroom stage. Head to this historic Tulsa venue…
  • 🎭 The Deaths of Sybil Bolton (Dennis R Neill Equality Center - Tulsa) Last Day Start Time: 7:30pm from the book by Dennis P. McAuliffe, Jr. adapted for the stage and directed by David Blakely
    Performances: Nov. 1 & 2, 8 & 9 at 7:30PM Nov. 9 & 10 at 2:00PM
    Lynn Riggs Black Box Theater, Dennis R. Neill Equality Center 621 E. 4th St.
    HTC Playwright-in-Residence Emeritus David Blakely returns to recount a shocking true-life piece of Oklahoma…
  • Harlem Quartet (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 Chamber Music Tulsa's 66th season draws inspiration from the Mother Road, a symbol of American adventure and…
  • 🎓 Jurassic Quest (Cox Business Center - Tulsa) Last Day Start Time: 3:00pm 🚨 Jurassic Quest is COMING to Tulsa, OK! Go back in time 60 million years and see more than 80 gigantic, walking, breathing animatronic dinosaurs. Featuring MORE baby dinosaurs, activities, and dinosaurs than ever before!!! 🦖 Jurassic Quest has been the LARGEST & MOST REALISTIC dinosaur event in North America since 2012, and it's now even…
  • 🎭 Love, Loss, and What I Wore (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 16th Start Time: 8:00pm November 7 – 17, 2019 Liddy Doenges Theatre, Tulsa Performing Arts Center A play of monologues and ensemble pieces about women, clothes and memory covering all the important subjects — mothers, prom dresses mothers, buying bras, mothers, hating purses (did we mention mothers?) and why we only wear black. Based on the bestselling book by…
  • 🎨 MEET THE ARTIST: Anila Agha (Philbrook Downtown - Tulsa) Start Time: 2:00pm In conjunction with Philbrook's new exhibition SHADOW OF TIME, artist Anila Quayyum Agha will discuss her work and explore the wide range of cultural and artistic sources that inspire her. About SHADOW OF TIME: This exhibition brings together recent sculptural works and drawings, featuring a large-scale installation that fills the gallery and…
  • 🎨 OkJFF: Redemption with Guest Intro (The Sherwin Miller Museum of Jewish Art - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Join us at Circle Cinema on Sunday, November 10th at 7:00pm for a screening of the acclaimed new drama "REDEMPTION" (Israel, 2018). Arrive as early as 5:45pm for an Opening Night Reception for the 6th Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival in the gallery. This film is in Hebrew with English subtitles and will be introduced by very special festival…
  • Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival (Circle Cinema - Tulsa) Thru Thu, Nov 14th For an entertaining and rewarding cinematic experience, join audience in Tulsa for the Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival…
  • 🎨 OPENING DAY: Shadow of Time (Philbrook Downtown - Tulsa) Start Time: 9:00am Get ready for an unforgettable experience. Artist Anila Quayyum Agha uses simple elements—light, shadow, space, and pattern—to create communal experiences of beauty and wonder. This exhibition brings together recent sculptural works and drawings, featuring a large-scale installation that fills the gallery and envelops the viewer in…
  • Tommy Tutone (The Shrine - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm
  • Wanenmacher's Tulsa Arms Show (Expo Square - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 The Wanenmacher's Tulsa Arms Show is one of the largest firearms shows in the world. This show features more than…
  • WILD MAN (TU Dept of Theatre and Musical Theatre and Dance - Tulsa) Day 2 of 2 The TU Department of Theatre will present a concert reading of Wild Man by K.T. Peterson, on November 9th and 10th. Wild Man is the winning script of the...

Monday, Nov 11th

  • Brentano Quartet with violist Hsin-Yun Huang (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 3:00pm Brentano Quartet with violist Hsin-Yun Huang Nov. 11 at 3 p.m. :: John H. Williams Theatre Hearing the Brentano Quartet in concert is a sublime experience. For more than 20 years, audiences have marveled at the quartet's luxurious tone and foucsed intensity. With guest violist Hsin-Yun Huang, the quartet will perform quintets by Brahms and...…
  • 🎭 Love, Loss, and What I Wore (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 16th Start Time: 8:00pm November 7 – 17, 2019 Liddy Doenges Theatre, Tulsa Performing Arts Center A play of monologues and ensemble pieces about women, clothes and memory covering all the important subjects — mothers, prom dresses mothers, buying bras, mothers, hating purses (did we mention mothers?) and why we only wear black. Based on the bestselling book by…
  • Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival (Circle Cinema - Tulsa) Thru Thu, Nov 14th For an entertaining and rewarding cinematic experience, join audience in Tulsa for the Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival…
  • ORU Golden Eagles vs Wichita State Shockers (Mabee Center - Tulsa) The ORU Golden Eagles women's basketball team strives for success on the court. Watch the team work together toward…
  • Tulsa Symphony: Britten's War Requiem (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Start Time: 2:30pm Tulsa Symphony: Britten's War Requiem Nov. 11 at 2:30 p.m. :: Chapman Music Hall Guest conductor James Bagwell passionately interprets one of the great defining masterworks of the 20th century: Benjamin Britten's powerful "War Requiem." Tulsa Symphony will be joined by Tulsa Oratorio Chorus and the University of Tulsa Concert Cho... GET TICKETS
  • 🎓 Veterans Day Reception (University of Tulsa - Tulsa) Start Time: 5:00pm The University of Tulsa College of Law invites you to a Veterans Day Reception. At the TU College of Law and The University of Tulsa, we are proud to count many veterans and active military among our student, alumni, faculty and staff. TU Law’s Veterans Day Reception will be an opportunity for our community to gather and honor those who have…

Tuesday, Nov 12th

  • 🎭 Love, Loss, and What I Wore (Tulsa Performing Art Center - Tulsa) Thru Sat, Nov 16th Start Time: 8:00pm November 7 – 17, 2019 Liddy Doenges Theatre, Tulsa Performing Arts Center A play of monologues and ensemble pieces about women, clothes and memory covering all the important subjects — mothers, prom dresses mothers, buying bras, mothers, hating purses (did we mention mothers?) and why we only wear black. Based on the bestselling book by…
  • 🎨 OkJFF: Love In Suspenders (The Sherwin Miller Museum of Jewish Art - Tulsa) Start Time: 7:00pm Join us at Circle Cinema on Tuesday, November 12th at 7:00pm for a screening of the new comedy "LOVE IN SUSPENDERS" (Israel, 2019). This film is in Hebrew with English subtitles. All seats are $10 and on sale now. About Love In Suspenders: Tami is a widow in her 60s and Beno is a widower in his 70s. She is optimistic, always smiling, and still…
  • Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival (Circle Cinema - Tulsa) Thru Thu, Nov 14th For an entertaining and rewarding cinematic experience, join audience in Tulsa for the Oklahoma Jewish Film Festival…

See Also

submitted by tulsanewsbot to tulsa [link] [comments]

Part 2 Of the Dress Shopping Hysterics.

Alright ya'll. If your thinking anyone in this story smartens up, I am sorry to disappoint you, but we all know I wouldn't be writing if that was the case.
So we left off at the first appointment for my sisters wedding dress of four. See bitchbot to see the bulk of the first appointment. So while MIL is still pouting, me and BM 1 pick out an absolutely beautiful dress for my sister to try on. Thank whatever you believe in, MIL did not mention her daughters wedding after seeing this dress. We pretty much decided this was the one then and there, however dear sister was a first time bride who was a little unsure of her style and wanted to be sure. When she finished up with her appointment, we headed up stairs to browse the bridesmaid dresses. At this point my sister has already decided a color scheme for her wedding, which is pastel colors. Blues, pinks and purples. So we start looking through and this place has all the color options available either stamped on, or cuts of fabric stapled on the tag to let us know the options. We pull a few dresses that we think sister would like, and head to try them on. We each pick a different one so she can see them at the same time and wait for her to come upstairs.
You guys. While we were changing, MIL picked a dress out and went in a change room so we wouldn't see her. When sister comes up, she hears us talking and dramatically throws open the curtain. Bitch comes out in a fucking bright fuschia dress, about 2 inches past her ass crack, and loudly shouts "Isn't this PERFECT!" Cue literally hearing a pin drop. Cue collective jaw drops. This thing is hideous. Ever diplomatic sis asks to see what other colors it comes in. I, however, am no diplomat.
MIL "What's wrong with this one? It's so cute! And it really stands out." Me "We aren't really supposed to stand out. And sis was leaning towards the light pink dresses (with white lace over top) so we should be looking at blue or purple." MIL "Well SIL loves this color" Me "She can have it at her wedding then. Plus its very inappropriate for the venue, I think it would fit in better at a prom" MIL pretends not to hear me Maybe I can wear it to the wedding. BM1 "If SIL loves it so much, wear it to hers."
MIL puts it back on the rack as I remind her we have another appointment to go to. As we leave, I ask the consultant to hide the dress if we come back.
On to appointment 2! We show up 15 minutes early, and MIL wants to wait in the car. She isnt feeling well, and she'll try to make it in if we find anything. We take this as a win, and go inside. Not even 10 minutes later, sis gets a call from DH asking her about why she told his mother to wait in the car. Apparently she was upset no one stayed with her, not even justnomom. Sister explains the situation to DH, the hang up, and a few minutes later MIL struts in with red puffy eyes, apologizing for taking so long. Now, she did improve at this appointment. She only mention SILs wedding once, out of earshot of the bride, so I let it slide, after a quick glare in her general direction. At this point she has moved on to FULL CBF mode. She did not smile once the entire appointment. My sister asks for her opinion, and got a quick nod of approval for everything, so she stopped asking. She finds one dress that's a strong contender, as it's very similar to the first one, but with a bit more of a flare out/poofiness at the bottom. As we split the appointments of to two a day, she calls it quits for the day so she doesn't get confused and we all agree to go the mall and let off some steam, maybe look at some bridesmaids dresses, because that's at least last stressful. HA! (however that was more to do with bridesmaids 2 and 3 being terrible people, so I went get into that here.)
We get to the mall and hit the food court. Keep in mind, at this point there's 6 of us. 4 are in there twenties. 2 are 50+ And not at all saying that 50+ people can't hang with the youth of today and have a grand time, but we have very different styles and interests than these two. So MIL and justnomom head to the casino, and we go shopping cause our city has a terrible mall, and we spent all day shopping, why not do more? We plan to meet up in 2 hours and go to the hotel, but of course, MIL has no concept of time or direction and is not in the designated meet up. Because why the fuck should she make it easy on us? We spent the next 45 minutes combing the mall. Which is not an easy task with the sheer size of this place. We call, we text, we do everything short of getting the mall to broadcast a lost child. Oops. Woman. So we ask DH to call. And of course she answers for her baaaaaby. She felt excluded and decided to go back in the hotel so she can stay out of our hair, since she hasn't done anything right!
I'm going to have to break this up to 3 parts it seems! Stay tuned for the epic finale that leads to 2 NCs! I promise it's good!
submitted by sarebear315 to JUSTNOMIL [link] [comments]

Trials of Adam ch1, 2

Trials of Adam ch1, 2

Welcome to my novel, inspired by Barry Pepper's role in Crawl (2019)

Chapter 1: Envy, Wrath
Nobody ever imagines themselves as a victim. I certainly didn't. I admit I was kind of a cocky little shit so maybe I deserved to be here: half-naked in a swamp with a bullet in my chest. I think there was also a bullet in my head, either that or I cracked my skull on something while in the process of crawling out of my makeshift grave. "I am Army Master Sergeant Adam Severgine," I said out loud to no one. I needed to remain conscious, I needed to survive.
This was no different from a deployment. Except instead of fighting for my country, for the chance to prove myself, I was fighting to dig myself out of a shithole of my own creation. "I am Adam Severgine, husband, father...addict." Tears filled my eyes. My wife and daughter were miles away in Biloxi, Mississippi.
I had no fear of death and dying but eventually, they would find out how badly I fucked up. I lost thousands of dollars in gambling, booze, heroin, meth. I should have just gotten out when I had the chance.
Instead, I turned tricks, ran drugs; I became a bitch to avoid becoming a bitch. The idea made me laugh. "Ow..." Fuck, I'm going to die.
"No, you're not." The male voice sounded calm, serene. "Do you even know where you are?"
‘I know I'm imagining you, whatever the fuck you are.’
"Because the mighty Master Sergeant Adam could never be communicating with an angel," the voice said with a laugh. The grass in front of me started to blow in the wind.
\swish* *crunch* *swish* *crunch**
The blades of grass seemed to grow taller, their shadows forming the shape of a man with long wavy hair.
"Is that what you are?" I asked with a chuckle. A sharp pain struck my side; I definitely had broken ribs.
As the angel came closer, he seemed to materialize into a mortal form; olive skin, green eyes, and hair that seemed to be streaked with red, blue, purple and gold. "What do you think I am?"
"You kind of look like the Lord, Jesus Christ," I said, my voice starting to slur into a southern accent as I felt my mind drifting away.
The angel laughed as he ran his fingers through his rainbow hair. "I'll take that as a compliment." He then reached over his shoulder and pulled on a golden cloak out of thin air. "Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?"
The angel shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"I guess not." Any place had to be better than dying alone in the swamp.
The angel reached out his hand. "You can call me Leo."
I took his hand, as I did, a series of letters flashed before my eyes; 'E-N-V-Y.' The letters were in thick black font as if someone was throwing them at my face. But why 'envy'?
I jolt awake, in full uniform, outside of a commander's office. I had been here before but where was I?
"Come in," said a female voice.
I knew who it was; Lt General Allyssa Blake. I was back at my station in Alaska. Still afraid of how the hell I managed to travel back in time I took a breath and entered the office giving the appropriate salute.
The much younger woman had blonde hair, light blue eyes, and lips that made me dream of what she looked like out of uniform. "At ease," she said with her soft breathy voice. She returned the salute and motioned for me to take a seat.
Allyssa never sounded like an officer. She gave off ASMR, that tingly feeling down your spine. She was pageant-queen beautiful, brilliant, but more than anything she was kind. Her wonderful heart was the only thing keeping me from bending her over the desk and fucking her brains out.
Sat down, focusing my eyes on the floor. I at least knew what this meeting was about. "Thank you for meeting with me Ma'am."
"Of course, Sergeant. Do you still want the transfer?"
Was this a memory or a test? "The transfer to Mississippi?"
"Yes, unless there was another position you were interested in pursuing."
"Sorry, I'm just a little one edge as of late. I apologize for the nature of my request I-" My daughter was sick, my wife was cheating on me because she was 'lonely.' I needed to be home, to reclaim my family.
"Hey," she stood up and took my hand. "I love you, Adam. You're a good guy. You're going to go home and you're going to fix this. I already have a replacement lined up."
"You do?" This part was new. I never stuck around to learn who she put in my position.
"Lawrence will take over."
"Lawrence Heath?" Lawrence Heath was an Air Force liaison officer. He had more training and education then I did so from a technical standpoint he was a good choice. But he was also Alyssa's ex who transferred to Japan after she miscarried their son.
"He wants to marry me," her voice was so angelic, calm.
Time stood still. I can feel a sharp pain in my chest. "Leo? Please tell me this is a dream."
Leo placed his hand upon my shoulder. "What do you remember about Lawrence?"
"H-He never actually hurt her."
"Alyssa miscarried in the middle of the office. You drove her to the hospital. You held her hand while she cried. Where was he?"
"He was at work. He came to her as soon as he could. I loved her like a sister, and I know it broke her when he left. But she loved him." I reached my hand to touch Alyssa's frozen cheek. "I hope they found happiness."
"Impressive," Leo said, starting a slow clap. I turned to see my guardian angel sitting on an office chair, his rainbow hair flowing about his face. "I wonder how someone so noble ended up in a place like this."
"What?" With a jolt, I was back in the swamp. My chest felt like it was being crushed and my head was throbbing. In my hands, I felt an unbearable burning sensation. But I knew perfectly well why that was. Shooting up heroin between your broken fingers tends to fuck shit up. I forced myself to scoot backward until I felt myself leaning against a massive tree. The rough bark cut into the skin of my back and neck, but I was still grateful for the opportunity to rest.
Lighting cracked the sky, forming a distinct series of patterns, 'W-R-A-T-H'- Wrath? I couldn't help but smirk. I mean, I had plenty to be angry about. So, I was actually curious as to where the angel was going to take me next. "I'm ready."
I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming, breath.
I could hear the sound of a plane landing. My skin was no longer in pain, but my heart as beating a mile a minute as I stood in the cool airconditioned TSA waiting room. I knew where this was. When I opened my eyes, I was meeting my daughter. My wife and I had tried for years to conceive but it was never meant to be. At the age of thirty, we started the process to adopt from China. After years of waiting, we stood hand in hand at the immigration office of Jackson, Mississippi. China had been our last hope. For whatever reason, we were unable to even get on a waiting list for a European or North American baby. That was another reason I was nervous. The little girl was already six months old. What if she took one look at me and decided, 'Nope, I'm not going to be able to love these military-redneck white folks?' I was scared. Fate had a reason for never blessing us with a biological child.
As the adoption rep put the baby in my arms, I felt only the light of God's love. "Hello, Cece."
My wife scoffed, "I thought we agreed on a name- Annabelle-Rylie?"
"Felicity June Severgine," that's her name, my daughter's name.
The next few moments flew by in a blur, but a painful number of them were of me abandoning my family. As the years passed, I saw myself in uniform leaving for deployment; moments when I truly believed that I might not come back alive. Other times I was just in sweatpants and a t-shirt as I kissed my family goodbye. Before my eyes, Cece transformed from a toddler to a teen. I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. The last time I saw Cece she was no longer the beautiful girl I remembered.
I closed my eyes and fell to my knees. "Oh, God..." I knew what I was going to see; my angel my reason for living, in a medically induced coma.
"She never told you what really happened," said Leo's disembodied voice.
I stood up to see the angel standing over Cece's bed. "My wife told me it was pneumonia." I'd never made it to my daughter's side to see for myself.
"Marni told you that, knowing it would take you at least a month to get home. The wounds healed by then. And what didn't heal could be explained away. Ironically, after a seizure, she did develop a sepsis infection in her lung that mimicked pneumonia." Leo made his way to Cece's side and held her hand. "But you didn't see what she looked like the day of the phone call." Leo kissed Cece's forehead. "I'm so sorry little one, this will only last a moment."
I had a feeling I was not supposed to hear that last part.
Cece had a breathing tube but as time regressed it vanished, replaced with the monstrous number of wounds. She cried, then screamed. Her face covered in bruises, cuts, and clearly broken bones. Her clothing transformed into a short blue dress; one I had never seen before.
Time stood still as my government issue phone rang. I hit my thigh only to feel no pockets. The phone was in the palm of my hand. "Hello?"
"Hi, Daddy."
I remember this conversation. She said she came home from a dance. Homecoming, Prom?
"I went to a party," Cece's said, her voice cracking with sadness. "It was great."
Leo poked my arm. "Hey, it's your line."
With trembling hands, I moved the phone to my mouth to speak. "That's great, baby."
"Should go," she said as her breathing became labored. It was clear she was trying not to cry. "I-I love you, Daddy."
Marni came in the room just as Cece hung up. "Hi, sweetie, do you feel up to talking to the police officers? They need to get your statement and do a rape kit."
"Yes, Mom," Cece glanced at the phone, giving it a squeeze. "I'll be ok. I just wish Dad was here."
I got to see the rest of the scene. According to her statement, she had been raped, beaten and left for dead. That was how she escaped. When her date (and his three friends) thought she was dead, they locked her in the trunk.
She remembered what her father had told her about how to escape a trunk and managed to not only kick out the tail light but also get the trunk open while the piece-of-shit car was going forty down a backroad. Battered and bloody she ran for her life until she found her way to the main street.
Leo placed his hand upon my shoulder. "What would you have done if you knew the truth?
"I would have fucking killed the bastards."
"Really?" Leo waved his hand, to focus back on the scene.
Marni took a seat, holding Cece's hand. "What did you tell your Dad?"
"Nothing. I didn't want him to be disappointed in me," she said, burying her face in her pillow.
"I could ever be disappointed with you," I said out loud. I knew she couldn't hear me, that hurt more than anything. But not more than the feeling of my leg getting blown off.
A sharp pain shot through my leg. Suddenly I was back in terrorist occupied Iraq, riding in a supply convoy. A larger truck ran us off the road, into an IED. At least that's what I was told.
The vehicle I was in exploded, and I was pinned under the rubble. Somehow my leg was extracted from the mess and sent along with the rest of my broken body to Landstuhl, Germany where I spent the next few weeks waking up.
At the time, my home station was in Colorado Springs, Colorado. That was where my wife was living with a then eleven-year-old Cece. I remember I’d asked that I be transferred back to my family; if I was going to die, I wanted to die at home. My superiors, the US military; they owed me that much.
My next memory was of Cece staying by my side. I'd suffered burns over twenty-five percent of my body, there were bone shards in my hips and my leg had been put back together with pins and rods. It was a unique sensation, to be a living mass of pain. The local medical team determined that I would never walk again. So, the goal was to make me comfortable.
I was allowed at-home hospice care. This meant that I was placed under the attention of a nurse for administering therapy, and medications, but during the majority of the week my wife was tasked with wound care. At least she was supposed to be. My wife never touched me. To do so would have meant to show some level of compassion.
I remember Cece asked the nurse to teach her how to change the dressing on my leg. I have to assume the nurse thought she was curious and adorably sweet. Because otherwise, it was not the safest practice.
I closed my eyes. When I awoke, I was back in that wonderful moment. "Cece?"
"Hi, Daddy," my little daughter said in a calm whisper as she donned oversized medical gloves.
“Hi, Sweetheart,” I replied in a horse whisper.
“If I hurt you, I’m really sorry.” She changed out the gauze, using a bottle of peroxide to wash the open wounds.
I flinched but tried my best to stay quiet.
"Mom said that I needed to say goodbye," Cece explained as she worked with a gentle touch. "She told me the only reason you came home is because you're too sick to go back. I don't believe her." She finished in silence before getting a clean blanket from the closet. "You're going to walk again." She cuddled by my side, resting her head on my shoulder. "Superheroes don't die."
My heart filled with a sense of faith that I didn't know was possible.
She spent her summer by my side; changing my bandages, helping with physical therapy. I was also working with a therapy nurse who was impressed by my level of strength.
For Cece's twelfth birthday she had a party at the on-base movie theatre. I paid the bills but Marni took on the responsibility of making the day special for our daughter. Cece invited her entire class, she looked so genuinely happy.
I arrived in my wheelchair. As the movie played, it was 'Step Up', some kind of dance movie from the golden age of hip-hop music. The movie was played on the projector as background noise, as the kids ate pizza and talked.
I waited in the back until she noticed me.
"Dad!" She broke off a conversation with several friends to run over to me. "Oh my god! Did you just get here? How was your therapy appointment?"
From my wheelchair, I reached to the cane at my side and I stood up.
Cece cupped her hands over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.
I took my first (pain-stricken) steps since the accident that should have taken my life. I stood tall, strong, as Cece threw her arms around me.
"I love you, Daddy. You're my hero." she paused to wipe tears from her eyes. "But does this mean you're leaving again?"
I was. I could have taken medical retirement, stayed with my family. But I needed the money. I needed to pay off a mortgage, send my daughter to a good college: I wanted to make my family proud.
So, I took a position in Alaska as a squadron lead. That’s when the addictions started. painkillers lead to heroin. loneliness lead to gambling and prostitution. all because I left behind the one person who truly cared.
The world went dark. I was sitting alone in an empty theatre as Leo appeared on the screen. "Hi, Adam. Wow, this is certainly an interesting view."
"Yeah," I replied in a weak voice.
"Well, I have to ask, what would you have done if you knew the truth about your daughter's assault?"
All I could do was laugh. The situation was clear now: I was dead and this was Hell. "You really want to know?"
Leo shook his head. "Look, I'm not a sadist, I just have a job to do. I was human once, just like you. And no, you're not in hell."
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
The man laughed as he turned towards the theatre and with one swift motion, seemed to jump from the screen. He walked towards me, with the fabric of the curtain attached to his back like wings. "So, what would you have done? Her attackers were never prosecuted. If you had a moment with those boys in a soundproof room with just your revolver, what would you do?"
I thought for a moment. I had no one to blame but myself. "I would eat my gun." Was Cece dead? I needed to know. If she was gone, I truly wanted to die.
Leo approached me, placing a hand upon my shoulder. "Much better, on to the next test."
I gripped his arm. "Why should I trust you?"
Leo rolled his eyes. "Maybe because I'm the one with the magic powers."
"You're my driver," I said in a tone that came off ruder than intended. "But what would happen if I said I'd rather walk to my final destination."
Leo chuckled and shrugged. "Hell, if I know. Maybe someone will find your body. Maybe you'll reunite with Cece in heaven. Or maybe she'll survive and grow up believing that her hero abandoned her. What do you want from me?"
"You said you were human once- I want to know something about you."
Leo cupped his hand to my face, tracing a finger along my jawline. He appeared to be studying my features, which gave me an opportunity to study his. "What do you see when you look at me?"
"You have green eyes," I said in a whisper. His eyes were hypnotic, his breath; warm, comforting, human.
"I know what it feels like to love someone until it hurts." Leo leaned in and kissed my lips, breathing a long constant stream of air that seemed to crackle with electricity.
Chapter 2: Lust, Greed
'All you need is love? Love? Love is all you need?' The voices hummed in my ear. They weren't singing, they were asking. I know where I am and I don't want to open my eyes.
"How does that feel?" asked a voice that was not Leo. It was Dr. Ethan Rogers, my physical therapist. He was a younger man; late twenties, early thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes- the most all-American soldier you could ever hope to meet. And he was massaging my naked thigh with a vibrator.
I know I'm hard, and I know what he's about to do next.
"I'm going to put this inside you," he said in a most professional tone of voice.
I could have attacked him, punched him in the face, or at the very least or at least said no. But it felt so good. I knew my scar tissue was prominent. It was a disgusting crater that ran along the entirety of my leg. I stayed in shape; my body was lean, muscular but that seemed all for show. I needed to look the part of a soldier, maybe if I was lucky, I would be able to pass my physical. My legs were for running, training. My cock was for pissing. My ass was for shitting. It had been months since I allowed myself to feel sexual pleasure.
"Just relax, let yourself go."
Damn it feels incredible. My eyes open on their own, staring straight into the blinding room light. The bulb is blinking forcing me to blink. Letters form in the shape of the light. 'L-U-S-T.' Yeah, I guess so. But it wasn't a lust for sex.
I feel him inject my leg; my broken, mangled leg. My leg that existed for the sole purpose of causing me unbearable pain, akin to the fires of hell. In a matter of moments, all of that was but a memory. He told me he was giving me morphine but I knew it had to be something stronger. That shit fucked with my head. Like a cool wave of tranquility; life death and every emotion in-between.
"I can get you a prescription for morphine, maybe even fentanyl.” His voice is calm, cool, like an ice tea on a hot day. “All you have to do is submit to me."
All I could do was laugh. "Sure, sounds great." My speech was slurred. This man was the devil and I willingly jumped headfirst down the rabbit hole into Hell.
I was physically fit. Dr. Ethan Rogers knew he could rent me out to anyone who had a fetish for dominating. Over the next year and a half, I lived as a sex-slave. I was bound, gagged. I sucked cock and even let men fuck me in my on-base housing. I was a human party favor, but I was always well compensated.
I took their pills, so many pills, all the colors of the rainbow. Most of the time, I never knew what any of it was, only that it was my prize. And when given vials of heroin, meth and God knows what else, I shot up in my arms, legs, but mainly my hands just because no one at my actual job seemed to notice my hands.
It was a perfect system. By day I was a soldier; a flawless, reliable worker who could be counted on for any job. I was a great husband and father who was working tirelessly to make sure his family would be taken care of. I worked myself to the bone, playing through the pain. But at night I was free.
Until the day my heart stopped.
I awoke in Alysa Blake's room, on her sofa. "Wow, you fucked up." The general looked like her actual youthful age. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun.
"Aly?" I tried to speak but immediately had to vomit.
General Blake had a bucket waiting by the side of my head. "You're going to stay here for a while." She placed a cold washcloth to my neck focusing on my artery. "This is going to help with the pain in your chest."
I shook my head. "But, what about my leg?"
"You're not the only one living with chronic pain." Alyssa took my hand a placed it on her hip, just below her abs. There was a massive scar. I knew the story; she had been shot in the hip; the bone and surrounding tissue had to be rebuilt. This was likely the reason for her later miscarriage. "I'm not giving you anything for your leg. You're probably going to have another seizure from all the drugs you already took."
I tried to move, to sit up- anything. But the pain seemed to course through my body. I wanted to cry or scream, but no sound was coming from my parched throat.
I gripped my head as a massive migraine pounded my vision. In the midst of my agony, I didn't even notice Alyssa leave and return with a blanket until the moment she cuddled by my side. "I'm going to stay with you."
I nodded, with a noticeable lump in my throat.
"Talk to me about Cece." Alyssa put her arms around me as she rested her head on my chest. “What is she like?”
I knew what this was. This moment, it was the opposite of lust. Nothing was worth more than my family, my daughter "She's a dancer."
"A dancer?"
"I think my wife has her in gymnastics and cheerleading but she..." I swallowed hard thinking about the last time we talked. Cece asked if she could send me a link to a video of her ballet recital. She loved ballet, she wanted to be a choreographer. She sent the link but my Alaska internet was too weak to see it without an extensive amount of buffering. And the camera had been placed so far back I could barely make out her face. I told her as much, but that I would love to see her dance someday.
"Have you seen any of her performances?"
I nodded. "C-Can I have some water?"
"Sure." Alyssa turned away, attempting to sit up.
Try as a might, my arms wouldn't let her go. "I feel sick. But, more than anything, don't want to cry in front of my commanding officer."
Alyssa glared at me with a look of seriousness. "I found you in your room bleeding from your ass. I performed CPR until you were lucid enough to walk with your arm around my shoulder." She only lived a few houses down and often visited.
I couldn't remember making the walk to her house but it wouldn't be the first time. I had the habit of dialing her number when I was too high to think straight. "My apologies Ma'am."
She reached for my hand, stroking between my fingers. "If I was here as your commanding officer you would be in a hospital awaiting a medical discharge." Her fingers paused on an open sore where I injected regularly. "I'm here as your friend, because what you need right now is a friend."
I knew she wasn't wrong. "Thank you."
"So, tell me about the time you saw your little girl dance."
My hands were trembling as my eyes filled with tears. "She sent me a USB."
"She sent you a file on a flash drive? Wow, that's really sweet."
"Cece had somehow used her phone to record a solo piece in her backyard. I didn't recognize the song, something Gaelic sounding about finding your wings to touch the sky." With the warm memory in my heart, my body relaxed.
"That sounds like the theme from the movie Brave," Alyssa said as she sat up. "Wow, that brings back memories. Anyway, I'm going to get you some water now."
Brave? Of course, it was.
Alyssa returned with a bottled water and a straw. "Take small sips." Once it appeared like I was not going to vomit again she took her place back on my chest, holding me close. "You need to go home."
"I know." I stroked her hair as I looked up at her stucco ceiling.
"You need to research a position at a base closer to your family,” she said as she kissed my cheek. “And I will sign off on it."
"Thank you." Now I just wish she talked me out of driving down to the states. Maybe I wouldn't have fucked up as badly as I did.
A lonely drive, six hours on the road, maybe eight. Behind the wheel of a rented SUV carrying all my worldly possessions, I thought I could keep focus, I thought I-
And here comes the crash.
I opened my eyes, but all I see is darkness. "Leo, are you there?"
I could feel someone grab my hand, pulling me from the vehicle. It wasn't Leo, but rather a younger male, possibly a teen.
"Wow, Leo was right, you are fucked up." The kid pulled me out of the vehicle, seemingly indifferent to my level of pain. "You should grab your wallet and suitcase. We have a bit of a walk into town.”
I did as he asked. I could recall what happened at this moment in time. While it did not include a Native American surfer-boy, I knew where we were headed.
"How long did you manage to stay clean for?" the smug teen asked.
I turned to him with a look of contempt. He stood maybe 5'9", and although he had an attractive face and youthful demeanor, I would have no problem punching his lights out.
"Really, old man?" The boy laughed.
"Master Sergeant Adam Severgine," I said with a groan.
"I know," he said, happily, skipping down the road. "I'm Jamie. Welcome to Oklahoma."
"How old are you? And where's Leo?"
"Leo will meet us in town. And as for me-" Jamie did a backflip landing in front of my face, close enough to kiss my lips. "I'm legal."
"Are you a guardian angel too?"
"Are you asking if I have powers?"
"I am," I replied through gritted teeth. I could remember how long the original walk took me. By the time I got to town, my leg was killing me.
"That's not why you got high off your ass."
"Oh, fuck you!"
"You got clean just long enough to pass a physical, for the job transfer. And then you started using again like the fucked-up junkie that you are!" Jamie continued doing flips and cartwheels down the empty road.
I focused on my own path looking down at my boots as I walked. My leg was mostly healed, to the point where I could walk unassisted, I could even drive. But I still felt an ache, a chronic pain that would never go away no matter what drugs I took.
Jamie appeared in front of me, lifting my face to look into his eyes. "I'm bored and I miss my boyfriend so I'm going to do you a favor." He punched me in the face with all the force of a fighter jet.
I awoke on the floor of a casino. And I do mean floor: My eyes opened to reveal the sight of paramedics working frantically. They had apparently just finished restarting my heart.
When I looked straight ahead, sitting at a slot machine was Jamie. The little punk was doubled over in laughter.
Leo stepped out of the shadows. He raised a finger giving the 'give me a second' sign. He embraced Jamie, speaking to him in a quiet tone. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but at least Leo was calming him down. When Jamie finally stopped laughing, the couple walked to the elevators.
A tall older man, in a suit, came over to check on the scene. He was the hotel manager and a former Marine. We talked for a while, with me telling him my situation. He kindly offered to give me a room for the night, free of charge. It was the least he could do for a fellow soldier.
Yes, it was only for one night. I could contact the rental agency and they could send a new car to my location. But until then he offered to buy me dinner and give me a tour of the hotel and casino.
Everything was going great. After hanging out with my new friend I took a seat at one of the many the table poker tables.
I was by no means an expert but I preferred tables, to computer-generated games of chance. That was when I met Lola. She looked like a typical cocktail waitress, just a few years away from retirement. She was possibly old enough to be my mother (either that or she had just spent too much time in the sun,) but she was undeniably beautiful. She made sure to flirt, playing with her long blonde hair as she brought me free drinks.
"Drink up," she said, before taking a shot. She cupped my face, forcing the shot of whiskey down my throat. "It's on me, love." Next thing I knew she was on my lap. I was winning hand after hand; she was truly my good luck charm. When I was too drunk to walk, she offered to escort me to my room.
I remember collapsing on to the bed. I could feel her hands, her long nails, then her mouth. When I was ready, she started to ride me. Talking dirty in a way that my wife never did, I gave her full control. she got on her knees and wanted me to fuck her from behind. I did, and what was when a man barged in with a master key. It was the manager.
My memory is blacking in and out but I remember him getting on the bed. He and Lola are laughing. They offer me cocaine.
The next morning, I awoke to the sight of Lola in my bed. Her naked chest was moving, so I had no immediate reason to panic.
Jamie stood in the corner wide-eyed. "Wow, I was raped to death by a demonic cult and even I found that disturbing."
Leo walked through the wall to stand at Jamie's side. "And this isn't even the worst of it."
I tried to sit up but my body hurt. "Why, the fuck, are you even here?" Just my luck, I had a pair of fuck-boy morons for guardian angels.
Leo sighed. He approached the bed, stroking Lola's hand. "You can't change the past." He made a turn to the closet, grabbing my phone from my pocket. "But you can choose your future."
I was lucid enough to move my arm and unlock my screen. I had wi-fi. I clicked on my email. it was open to a message from Cece, starting with a link that I had never seen before. ""
Leo shrugged. "You should probably take a look."
I clicked. There was Cece in her blue dress, sitting on her bed. "Hi, Dad. I'm a little nervous. I really like Jason, and well, I wish you could have met him. He's so much like you. He wants to join the Marines, travel the world. I mean, I guess I'd write to him. A lot of my friends are planning on getting married, so their boyfriends don't cheat. It's really stupid. Jason says he loves me, he wants to marry me. I'm pretty sure he just wants to fuck me." Cece looked down at her silver ring. It had belonged to my grandmother who passed away before Cece was born. I had given it to my daughter on her sixteenth birthday. It was only then, on that video, did I notice where she wore it. She wore it like a wedding ring: a purity ring.
Cece looked to the side, at her computer, to press a few keys. "I hope this will help my anxiety." The music starts to play, it was a slow, Celtic, song. I watched as she moved her arms, in a graceful ballet pose. She appeared to be free-styling a dance piece, in her room, dancing on her bare feet. It was truly breathtaking. But why was the file titled ''?
"I can't wake up without you, Dad." The voice was not coming from the phone.
I nearly screamed at the sight of Cece's broken, bloody form.
Jamie put his arm around Cece, patting her shoulder. "Don't worry, she's still in a coma."
The creepy, undead version of my daughter leaned her head on Jamie's shoulder. She turned just enough to look at me with her dark, innocent, eyes. "When you rocked me to sleep, you would tell me stories. I think you assumed I couldn't hear you or what I wasn't paying attention."
"You couldn't even talk." For the first two years, I was so nervous about being a father, that I would unload all of my horrific stories on to Cece like a verbal diary. she didn't speak a word until she started preschool at age three and even then, I never heard anything from her teachers about my stories.
"Knowing so much about your past is why I always had such respect for you." Cece took a step forward, reaching out her hand. "I know what you saw, what you experienced. It made you the person you are." When she came closer, her hand hit a glowing wall of energy. She nodded her head knowingly. We weren't in the same space. "Jamie said you're going to make your way back to me."
I knew our time was short so I had only one question to ask. "Why greed?"
"You told me I was your treasure; I was everything you ever wanted."
"I'm so sorry."
"That wasn't meant as an attack. Not at you, not ever." Cece moved closer. She was able to sit on the bed, her hand caressing the fabric. Her moves were careful and deliberate.
I would have given anything to be able to touch her hand. I knew in my heart this wasn't an illusion, this was my daughter.
Cece pursed her lips and continued, "There's an old saying, 'Shoot for the moon, even if you fail, you'll be among the stars.' Well, what happens when you reach the moon but it's not the finish line that you thought it would be. You always want more, I did anyway. that's why I let Jason go as far as he did. I thought I could have it all; I'd go to college and have a hot, long-distance boyfriend. maybe we'd meet up in Europe where I would audition for a ballet company. At least that's what I thought." Cece wiped tears from her eyes. "He was dating me as a practical joke. I was the nerdy-science geek who was also a dancer. The rumor was that I clearly wanted to be fucked, but my stern military daddy was keeping me inline." She paused for a moment, looking into my eyes. "I guess he was half right. I knew Jason's plan was to make me choose between you and him. And what's really messed up is, I would have chosen him. I was greedy." Cece took a few steps back, her form already starting to fade. "I miss you so much, Dad. Please come find me."
Leo cracked his knuckles. "Well, this was fun but we have miles to go before we sleep. So-" He turned to Jamie.
“Yeah, I know.” Jamie nodded, with a sigh, as Cece vanished.
Next, Leo turned to me, with hesitation. "This next part is going to hurt."
"More than seeing my dying daughter?"
Leo clicked his tongue as he moved to Jamie's side. "Adam, how much do you remember about your trip from Oklahoma to Louisiana?"
"Do I remember who shot me and left me for dead int he Louisiana swamplands?" I clearly did not.
"Do you want to know?" Leo asked, twirling a lock of his rainbow hair. "I mean I'm supposed to show you, orders from the big boss," he said, motioning towards heaven. "But I think it would be a little cruel."
Jamie's eyes lit up. "Can we just give him a summery? He'll feel just as shitty but we won't have to watch it!"
Leo pursed his lips, clearly trying to hide laughter. "Jamie..." Leo took a breath to calm down. "None the less you are correct. But to stay in line with the," he made the pointing gesture again, "I'll give him just enough to dwell on during our hike back to civilization."
Jamie leaned against a wall as Leo stepped towards me. He crawled into bed, positioning himself on top of me like a snake. His long hair trickled against my face. "You good, Adam?"
"As good as I can be."
"I'll make this quick." Leo closed his eyes.
I did the same. The images flashed before my eyes like the world’s worst vacation slideshow. Oh, God.
More sex, drugs, a few suicide attempts. Luckily it would only last three weeks. I apparently went on the mother of all drug binges. I didn't want to go home, and I knew why. My daughter was sick, but my wife… my beautiful, kind, wife, Marni-Lynn was a fucking whore who’d torn my heart out a long time ago.

submitted by dourdan to BarryPepper [link] [comments]

Percy Jackson and the Olympians season 1 episode 4 (Pt 3)

This concludes PJO season 1 episode 4 of my fan script. Enjoy!

The kids approach ARES, who is standing by a huge motorcycle with flames painted on the sides and shotgun holsters by the seat.
(Grinning wickedly)
Well, well, well! You didn’t die! Good job.
You knew it was a trap!
Yeah, yeah I did. Bet that ol’ cripple was surprised to see you runts in his net. Ya’ll look good on TV, by the way.
(Shoves shield into ARES’S chest)
Here’s your shield, douche bag.
ANNABETH and GROVER both gulp, afraid of what ARES might do to PERCY, but the war god simply throws the shield in the air, and as it spins and twirls around, it transforms into a bullet proof vest, which ARES throws on over his duster.
Much obliged, kid.
Well? We held up our end of the bargain, now it’s your turn. Where’s our ride?
Over there. Free ticket all the way to Vegas.
ARES gestures to an ugly, beat up eighteen wheeler across the street from the diner, with a sign on the back that reads: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS INSIDE.
You can’t be serious…
ARES points at the truck, snaps his fingers, and the back doors of the trailer open.
You want a ride West or not? Besides, it’s free, so shut your yap. Oh, and here’s a little something for your troubles.
(Grabs a blue nylon backpack from his motorcycle, tosses it to PERCY)
(Opens backpack, sees fresh clothes, drachmas and some snacks)
We don’t want your damn-
(Eyes wide, nervous)
Th-thank you, Lord ARES, for this wonderful gift.
Yes, truly, Lord ARES, you are too generous. Isn’t he, PERCY?
PERCY scowls at ARES, who starts getting on his motorcycle.
(Trying to stay calm)
You still got something for me. You said you knew something about my mom.
You sure you wanna know?
(Starts his motorcycle)
She ain’t dead, kid.
(Shocked, hopeful)
Not… dead? But I saw her-
Explode into golden fire? HADES took her. He’s keeping her hostage.
(Angry, confused)
You ever read the Art of War, kid? I bet your little girlfriend would know all about it. You take hostages for leverage, to control your enemy.
(Balls up fists)
She’s not my girlfriend. And no one’s controlling me.
Whatever you say, kiddo.
You know, you’re pretty smug for a guy who runs from cupid statues.
(Eyes glowing behind shades, growling)
You better watch your back, PERCY JACKSON.
ARES revs his motorcycle, and takes off down the street.
That wasn’t smart, PERCY.
You do not want a god as an enemy, PERCY. Especially not ARES.
The kids glance back at the diner, and through the window, see two men wearing ‘Kindness International’ overalls heading out of the diner.
We gotta go, dudes.
The kids run across the street to the truck, hurriedly get in, and slam the doors close.
After the kids get in the truck, they realize it’s pitch black, and they can barely see.
I can’t see crap.
Hold on.
PERCY uncaps Riptide, and the gentle golden-bronze glow of the blade illuminates the trailer, revealing three caged animals; an albino lion, a zebra, and an antelope, who all look incredibly miserable. The zebra’s mane has chewing gum stuck in it, the antelope has a birthday balloon tied around its antler, and the lion’s ribs are visible through its fur. The lion has a sack of turnips in its filthy cage, and the zebra and antelope have packages of ground beef in their cages.
This is kindness?
This is horrible!
Poor guys…
The truck starts up and lurches forward, causing the kids the stagger back and fall. GROVER gets to his feet, and tries talking to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they all just stare at him sadly.
We have to set them free!
We’re in a moving truck, wise girl, where they gonna go?
Besides, I don’t like the way ol’ Mufasa’s looking at me.
Well, we should still help them.
A montage begins of the kids helping the animals. ANNABETH pulls the packages of ground beef out of the zebra and antelope cages, and PERCY uses Riptide to drag the sack of turnips out of the lion’s cage. PERCY gives the turnips to the zebra and antelope, and ANNABETH throws the ground beef to the lion, who happily chows down on it. GROVER continues trying to talk to the animals, and PERCY finds a water jug and fills up their bowls. ANNABETH uses her dagger to cut the balloon off the antelope’s antler, and then tries to do they same for the gum in the zebra’s mane, but PERCY stops her.
The truck’s too bumpy. You might hurt him.
ANNABETH reluctantly sheaths her knife, and she sits down by the lion’s cage with PERCY. They open a pack of Oreo’s from the backpack ARES gave them, and GROVER lies down, using a turnip sack as a pillow.
(Quiet, bashful)
Hey, PERCY? Um… sorry I freaked out back at the water park.
It’s all good.
It’s just… spiders.
Because of the Arachne story. She got turned into a spider for pissing off your mom, right?
Arachne’s children having been hunting down the children of ATHENA ever since. Hate the creepy little things.
(Smiles, brushes hair out of face)
Anyway, you were awesome. I owe you.
(Chuckles, blushing)
Hey, we’re a team, remember? Besides, GROVER was pretty amazing too.
(Grinning, sleepy)
Yeah I was.
ANNABETH and PERCY chuckle, and ANNABETH hands PERCY an Oreo.
Hey, so… what else did LUKE say in the IRIS MESSAGE?
Well… he said you and him go way back. And how GROVER wouldn’t fail this time… and something about a pine tree?
ANNABETH and GROVER become quiet.
(Sad braying sound)
I should’ve just told you from the start. I thought if you knew how big of a failure I am, you wouldn’t want me to come on your quest.
I knew it! You were the satyr who rescued THALIA, the daughter of ZEUS, weren’t you?
GROVER doesn’t respond, but sadly looks off into space.
And the other half-bloods that you got to camp…
(Turns to ANNABETH)
… it was you and LUKE, wasn’t it?
Like you said, a seven year old half-blood could never survive long by herself. THALIA was twelve at the time, LUKE was fourteen. They both ran away from home, just like me. They were passing through Virginia around the time I ran away, and they took me in. For the first time, I felt like I had a real family.
(Sadly smiles)
I used to joke about how LUKE was like the dad of the group, THALIA was the mom, and I was their kid. After a few weeks of wandering around, fighting monsters and generally trying not to die, GROVER found us.
(Shaky voice)
I had strict orders to escort THALIA to camp. Just THALIA. We knew HADES was after her, and his monsters were closing in fast. CHIRON told me to do absolutely nothing that might slow us down, but… I couldn’t just leave LUKE and ANNABETH. I was sure I could get all three of them safely to camp but…
(Choking on words)
I-I got lost. Then all three Kindly Ones attacked us and…
(Tears streaming down face)
If I had just been a little faster…
GROVER… no one blames you.
The Council of Cloven Elders did. They said her death was all my fault.
Why? Because you refused to leave two innocent kids to die?
PERCY’S right. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here, GROVER. We don’t care what the council says.
Just my luck. I’m the biggest loser of a satyr ever and I find two of the most powerful half-bloods of the last century.
(Quiet, kind)
You’re not a loser satyr. You’re the best satyr in the world. I mean, you’re willingly going to the UNDERWORLD. And I bet PERCY is glad to have you here.
ANNABETH kicks PERCY in the shin.
(Surprised, gives ANNABETH an irritated glare)
Y-yeah… and it’s not luck that you found THALIA. Or me. You’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met… that’s why you’ll find PAN someday.
GROVER stays quiet, then starts snoring, and PERCY realizes GROVER has been asleep for a while.
How does he do that?
No idea. But…
(Smiles warmly, blushing)
That was really sweet of you. What you said to him.
(Smiles, blushing)
I meant it.
They sit in silence few a moments, the truck bumping and shaking as it heads down the road. PERCY notices ANNABETH playing with her necklace, and gets curious.
So, that pine tree bead… is that from your first year?
Yep. Every August, the counselors get together and discuss the most important thing that happened that summer, and they have it painted on that year's bead. I’ve got THALIA’S tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress…
PERCY raises an eyebrow.
Yeah, that was a pretty weird summer.
And… the college ring, it’s your dad’s, isn’t it?
(Frowns, annoyed)
That’s none of your-
(Stops herself, kind and sad)
Yeah. It’s my dad’s.
You don’t have to tell me.
No, I… I want to tell you.
(Takes shaky breath)
Two summers ago, he sent it to me in a letter. My mom helped him get into Harvard; long story, by the way; so the ring’s super important to him. And… he wanted me to have it. He said he was sorry for being a jerk… he said he loved me, missed me, and wanted me to come back to Virginia.
That sounds pretty good.
Yeah, it was…
… For a while. My stepmom was the same evil old witch. She still treated me like a freak of nature, and my dad still took her side. We got into shouting matches almost everyday, and monsters attacked almost every week. Halfway through Winter break, I called CHIRON and went back to camp.
Do you… think you’ll try it again? Living with your dad?
Please, PERCY. I’m not into self inflicted torture.
(Soft, kind)
You should give him another chance. I get that family sucks sometimes, but… they’re still family.
Thanks for the advice, PERCY. But my dad made his choice.
They sit in silence for a while.
(Hollow, hopeless)
Hey, ANNABETH? If we fail, and the gods fight… you think it will really go down like the Trojan war? ATHENA vs POSEIDON?
(Sighing, tired)
I don’t know what my mom will do, PERCY, but I do know I’ll stand by your side.
(Confused, flattered)
Oh… why?
Because you’re my friend, seaweed brain. Goodnight.
ANNABETH curls up on the sacks of turnips, and falls asleep immediately. PERCY tries to get comfortable, and as soon as he does fall asleep, he begins having another nightmare.
PERCY sits in a classroom, wearing a straight jacket with a standardized test on the desk in front of him. PERCY looks up from his desk, and sees a ghoulish looking teacher.
Come on, PERCY. You’re not stupid, are you? Pick up your pencil.
PERCY struggles to get out of his straight jacket, and is surprised to hear a girls voice next to him.
Well, seaweed brain?
PERCY, surprised, turns to see who the girl is, and sees a girl about his age with punkish black hair and blue eyes, also struggling in a straight jacket, and PERCY somehow immediately knows she is THALIA.
(Quiet, curious)
One of us has to get out of here. This is your dream, take control.
PERCY closes his eyes, focusing, and his straight jacket turns to white dust, and the image of the classroom begins breaking apart, as if it were being sucked into a black hole. The image of THALIA vanishes, and the ghoulish looking teacher turns into black mist, which turns into the image of the gaping chasm that PERCY had seen in his previous dreams, with a cloaked figure standing in front of it.
PERCY JACKSON… the exchange was a success, then? And he suspects nothing?
No, my lord. He remains ignorant, as do they all.
Ah, deceptions within deceptions… excellent…
You are well named the Crooked One, my lord. But… was all this really necessary? I could have simply brought it to you myself-
Hah! You?
The cloaked figure flinches.
You have already shown me the limits of you competence. If I had not intervened, you would have failed me utterly.
But, m-my lord-
Shhh… peace, little servant. These six months have bought much for us. ZEUS’S wrath grows. POSEIDON has played his most desperate hand, and we shall use it against him. Shortly, you shall have your wish, and your revenge. Once both items are within my hands-
-Wait… he watches.
PERCY gulps, his eyes wide with fear.
What?! You summoned him, my lord?
(Confused, cold, angry)
No… damn his father’s blood. He is too changeable, unpredictable. The boy’s power grows, he brought himself hither.
Perhaps, for a weakling like you… so, you wish to dream of your quest, little half-blood? Fine, I will oblige.
Suddenly, PERCY finds himself in a huge throne room made with black marble pillars and bronze floor, with an obsidian throne with the ghoulish faces of damned souls carved into it. Before the throne, at the foot of the dais is the image of PERCY’S mother, shrouded in golden fire. PERCY tries running to her, but his feet seemed to be stuck to the ground.
(Screaming, desperate)
Suddenly, PERCY is surrounded by skeletal figures in ancient Greek armor, who drape a red silk robe over his shoulers, and place thorny laurels on his head, which begin burning into his scalp.
(Laughing coldly)
Hail the conquering hero!
PERCY screams in agony as his skin slowly withers, his body turning ghoulish and skeletal, and is jolted awake from his nightmare when the truck lurches to a halt.
Hey dude, you up? I think we’re in Vegas.
The back door of the trailer unlocks.
(Urgent, quiet)
ANNABETH puts on her Yankees cap, and vanishes.
Easy for you to say.
PERCY and GROVER hide behind some sacks of turnips as the doors opens, and one of the truck drivers climbs into the trailer.
(Grumbling, waving hand in front of nose)
Ugh… man, I should’ve hauled appliances.
(Approaches lion cage, grabs water jug, grinning)
Hey, big boy, thirsty?
The truck driver splashes the water jug in the lion’s face, causing it to roar angrily.
Yeah, yeah.
(Turns to zebra cage)
Well, at least we’ll be getting ridda you, stripes. You’re goin’ to a magic show! They’re gonna saw ya in half!
My lord, free me, please!
PERCY’S jaw drops when realizes the voice is coming from the zebra, and a banging noise comes from outside the trailer.
Eh? Whatchu want, Eddie?
Huh? You say something, Maurice?
Whatchu bangin for?
What bangin?
TRUCK DRIVER #1 rolls his eyes and leaves the trailer, and starts yelling at TRUCK DRIVER #2. ANNABETH becomes visible next to PERCY.
That should keep them busy for a while. We have to free these animals. This can’t be legal!
It’s not. The lion just told me that these guys are smugglers.
Yes! Smugglers! Please, free us, my lord!
That zebra is talking to me.
Wait, what?
Yeah, I can hear it’s voice in my head.
Well, zebra’s are technically horses, and your dad created the first horse, so I guess it makes sense that you can talk to them.
Break my cage, prince PERSEUS. I can survive on my own after that.
PERCY uncaps Riptide, destroys the lock on the zebra’s cage, and the zebra leaps out, then bows to PERCY.
Thank you, my lord.
GROVER holds out his hands and mutters something in Ancient Greek, then the zebra runs out onto the streets of Las Vegas, the truck driver chasing after it, and several cops chase the truck drivers.
Now the other animals.
PERCY destroys the locks on the antelope and lion’s cages, and before they leave, GROVER mutters the same Ancient Greek words to them.
What did you say to them?
It’s a satyr’s sanctuary. It’s a nature spell that will make sure they find food, water and shelter until they find a safe place to stay.
Oh… wait, why don’t you do that to us?
It only works on wild animals, dude.
Okay… so why don’t you just use it on PERCY?
(Sarcastic gasp)
GROVER! Did that forehead just talk?
(Feigning innocence)
Hey! I was kidding!
(Sticks out tongue)
Let’s get out of here.
The kids wander around Las Vegas while cops chase around the animals in the background, and eventually find themselves outside of an incredibly fancy hotel.
Hey kids, you look tired. Why don’t you come in and stay a while?
(Suspicious at first, but shrugs)
Eh, why not?
The kids step into the hotel, and as they do, the camera pans up to show a neon lotus symbol over the door.
When the kids see the inside of the hotel, their jaws drop.
The kids look around the hotel lobby, which is filled with all sorts of fun activities, including an indoor bungee jumping bridge, a rock climbing wall, an indoor waterslide, and various virtual reality video games. A bellhop comes out of nowhere, surprising the kids.
Hey there!
Welcome to the Louts Hotel and Casino! Here’s your room key!
(Hands PERCY a key card)
Um… but…
Oh, don’t worry, your bill’s been taken care of. No extra charges, no tips, nothing. Your room number is 4001, top floor. If you need anything, just call the front desk. Oh, and here’s your LotusCash cards, they work on everything from the restaurants to the games.
(Hands the kids each a green card with a white lotus symbol on it)
Huh… how much is on these?
What do you mean?
Like, when do they run out of cash?
Oh, hey, good joke, kid. Enjoy your stay!
PERCY looks back and forth between ANNABETH and GROVER, who both shrug. They head to the glass elevator, which has a huge waterslide winding around it.
That’s super cool.
And probably super illegal.
But yeah, it is pretty cool.
The kids check into their room, which is a three bedroom, three bathroom suite, complete with a refrigerator, a flat screen TV, and several laptops.
Is so…
(Grabs TV remote, excited)
I wonder if National Geographic is on!
(Raises eyebrow)
NatGeo? All those channels and you wanna watch NatGeo?
PERCY rolls his eyes, tosses ARES’S backpack into a trash can, and walks away before he can see the backpack shimmer and disappear.
Dudes, you won’t believe this!
PERCY and ANNABETH head out to the balcony, and they grin when they see what GROVER has found. A few minutes later, they all sit together in a hot tub on the balcony.
Ooooh… this is nice.
Mmmmm… just what I needed.
Dudes, there’s also a skeet shooting machine up here.
(Looks over at the edge of balcony)
Woah, there is.
PERCY and GROVER get out of the hot tub, and PERCY grabs the shotgun, grinning.
Okay, this is definitely illegal.
The kids all exchange nervous glances, then start laughing.
Eh, who cares?
I know, right?
Hey GROVER, pull.
GROVER launches a clay pigeon into the air, which PERCY blasts out of the sky with his shotgun.
(Holding shotgun up high, shouting triumphantly)
(Getting out of hot tub)
My turn, my turn!
A montage begins of the kids having fun around the hotel, playing laser tag, riding the indoor roller coaster, stuffing their faces with pizza, jumping off the bungee jumping bridge, and PERCY and ANNABETH sing karaoke of ‘Don’t Stop Believing’. PERCY gets kissed on the cheeks by two pretty waitresses, making him blush, but then he gets suspicious when he sees a group of people who are dressed as if they walked out of a 50’s movie. PERCY shrugs it off at first, and starts playing some shooting games with a boy about his age dressed like an Elvis impersonator named Darrin.
Aw dude, this game is so groovy, man.
(Frowns, confused)
Y-yeah, it’s uh… it’s pretty dope.
DARRIN looks at PERCY like he just started speaking an alien language, then goes back to his game. PERCY starts playing his game again, but stops, and gets a slightly worried look on his face.
Hey, DARRIN, weird question, but… what year is it?
In the game?
No, in real life.
(Scratches head, thinking)
… 1977, dude.
(Nervous chuckle)
You’re joking, right?
Bad vibes, man. Bad vibes.
PERCY stares at Darrin bewildered, then begins running around frantically, trying to find his friends.
(Approaches businessman dressed in old fashioned clothes)
Excuse me, sir, do you know what year it is?
Why, it’s 1929, my boy! And the stock market’s never been better!
Later, PERCY runs into some WWI soldiers, and asks them what year it is.
It’s 1918, son, and the Great War has finally come to an end!
The other soldiers cheer.
Great War… do you mean World War One?
The soldiers stop cheering, and get worried looks on their faces.
I mean, um… bye.
PERCY runs around for a while, trying to find his friends, and is relieved to find ANNABETH playing some sort of architect simulator.
ANNABETH! Thank the gods you’re okay. We have to get out of here.
ANNABETH doesn’t respond.
(Worried, shakes her shoulder)
(Whining like a child)
Ugh… whaaaaaat?
We have to leave, now.
Are you crazy? This place is awesome.
That’s just it, ANNABETH. This place is designed to get you addicted.
PERCY realizes ANNABETH is ignoring him again, and he shakes her shoulder again.
(Whips around, annoyed)
Our quest. The UNDERWORLD, remember?
(Turns back to her game, sighing)
Just a few more minutes.
ANNABETH, I just talked to a girl who thinks it’s still the 1930’s. This place is enchanted, it’s like it exists outside of time and space. You check in, and you never want to leave.
So? This place is great! Why would you wanna leave?
PERCY sighs, then grabs ANNABETH by the wrist, pulling her away from the game.
Hey! Let go of me!
ANNABETH hits PERCY in the arm a few times, but he grabs both her wrists, then grabs her face and makes her look directly into his eyes.
(Grim, dark)
Spiders, ANNABETH. Big, hairy spiders with spindly little legs and fat bodies.
ANNABETH gets a horrified look on her face, and breaks out of her trance.
PERCY? Where… how long…
I don’t know. But we have to get out of here.
Their eyes get wide with dread.
They run around for a bit, shouting GROVER’S name, and eventually find him at a reverse hunting simulator.
Ha! Take that, human! Yeah, it’s not so funny when the deer has the gun, huh?
PERCY and ANNABETH exchange a slightly confused look, and slowly approach GROVER.
(Laughing maniacally)
Bwa-ha-ha! The hunter has become the hunted!
(Curt, stern)
GROVER, we’re going. Now.
GROVER ignores her and keeps playing his game.
GROVER whips around, and starts clicking the trigger of his plastic gun at PERCY. PERCY rolls his eyes, and he and ANNABETH grab GROVER by the arms and start dragging him to the door. GROVER’S magic shoes come to life and attempt to take him back to his game.
Hey! Wait, dudes, I’m almost on the next level!
PERCY and ANNABETH ignore him, and are almost at the door when the bellhop hurries up to them.
Hey kids, you ready to upgrade to your platinum cards?
Actually, I think we’ll be leaving now.
(Sad, disappointed)
Oh… that’s too bad. And we just added a whole new game floor for platinum card members.
The bellhop holds out three shiny platinum-colored cards.
(Excited, tries to grab the cards)
Aw, sweet, dude!
(Smacking GROVER’S hand away)
Thanks, but no thanks.
PERCY and ANNABETH drag GROVER towards the door, GROVER struggling against them.
Well… come again…
PERCY and ANNABETH finally manage to get GROVER out the door, and they all stumble back onto the streets of Las Vegas.
How long were we in there?
(Frantically runs up to random by passers)
Excuse me, sir? What year is it?
The random man gives PERCY a weird look, and keeps walking.
(Runs up to teenage girl)
Excuse me? Can you tell-
I have a boyfriend.
PERCY rolls his eyes, then finds a news paper on the ground. He starts reading it, and his eyes get wide with dread.
Okay, guys, good news and bad news.
Good news first.
It’s still June.
Oh, thank PAN!
… Bad news?
It’s June twentieth.
All hope drains from ANNABETH and GROVER’S faces.
B-but that means…
We were in there for five days.
B-b-but then that means…
The kids all exchange glances, ANNABETH and GROVER’S faces terrified, PERCY’S face grim.
We have one day to find the MASTER BOLT, and stop World War Three.
Roll credits.
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lancashire countryside has been created

By Thomas Mann Translation by H. T. Lowe-Porter THE FIGHT BETWEEN JAPPE AND DO ESCOBAR I WAS very much taken aback when Johnny Bishop told me that Jappe and Do Escobar were going to fight each other and that we must go and watch them do it. It was in the summer holidays at Travemünde, on a sultry day was a slight land breeze and a flat sea ever so far away across the sands. We had been some three-quarters of an hour in the water and were lying on the hard sand under the props of the bathing- cabins——we two and Jürgen Brattström the shipowner's son. Johnny and Brattström were lying on their backs entirely naked; I felt more comfortable with my towel wrapped round my hips. Brattström asked me why I did it and I could not think of any sensible answer; so Johnny said with his winning smile that I was probably too big now to lie naked. I really was larger and more developed than Johnny and Brattström; also a little older, about thirteen; so I accepted Johnny's explanation in silence, although with a certain feeling of mortification. For in Johnny Bishop's presence you actually felt rather out of it if you were any less small, fine, and physically childlike than he, who was all these things in such a very high degree. He knew how to look up at you with his pretty, friendly blue eyes, which had a certain mock- ing smile in them too, with an expression that said: "What a great, gawky thing you are, to be sure!" The ideal of manliness and long trousers had no validity in his presence——and that at a time, not long after the war, when strength, courage, and every hardy virtue stood very high among us youth and all sorts of conduct were banned as effeminate. But Johnny, as a foreigner—or half- foreigner——was exempt from this atmosphere. He was a little like a woman who preserves her youth and looks down on other women who are less successful at the feat. Besides he was far and away the best-dressed boy in town, distinctly aristocratic and elegant in his real English sailor suit with the linen collar, sailor's knot, laces, a silver whistle in his pocket, and an anchor on the sleeve that narrowed round his wrists. Anyone else would have been laughed at for that sort of thing——it would have been jeered at as "girls' clothes." But he wore them with such a disarming and confident air that he never suffered in the least. He looked rather like a thin little cupid as he lay there, with his pretty, soft blond curls and his arms up over the narrow English head that rested on the sand. His father had been a German busi- ness man who had been naturalized in England and died some years since. His mother was English by blood, a long-featured lady with quiet, gentle ways, who had settled in our town with her two children, Johnny and a mischievous little girl just as pretty as he. She still wore black for her husband, and she was probably honouring his last wishes when she brought the children to grow up in Germany. Obviously they were in easy circum- stances. She owned a spacious house outside the city and a villa at the sea and from time to time she travelled with Johnny and Sissie to more distant resorts. She did not move in society, although it would have been open to her. Whether on account of her mourn- ing or perhaps because the horizon of our best families was too narrow for her, she herself led a retired life, but she managed that her children should have social intercourse. She incited other children to play with them and sent them to dancing and to deport- ment lessons, thus quietly arranging that Johnny and Sissie should associate exclusively with the children of well-to-do families—— of course not in pursuance of any well-defined principle, but just as a matter of course. Mrs. Bishop contributed, remotely, to my own education: it was from her I learned that to be well thought of by others no more is needed than to think well of yourself. Though deprived of its male head the little family showed none of the marks of neglect or disruption which often in such cases make people fight shy. Without further family connection, with- out title, tradition, influence, or public office, and living a life apart, Mrs. Bishop by no means lacked social security or preten- sions. She was definitely accepted at her own valuation and the friendship of her children was much sought after by their young contemporaries. As for Jürgen Brattström, I may say in passing that his father had made his own money, achieved public office, and built for himself and his family the red sandstone house on the Burgfeld, next to Mrs. Bishop's. And that lady had quietly accepted his son as Johnny's playmate and let the two go to school together. Jürgen was a decent, phlegmatic, short-legged lad without any prominent characteristics. He had begun to do a little private business in licorice sticks. As I said, I was extremely shocked when Johnny told me about the impending meeting between Jappe and Do Escobar which was to take place at twelve o'clock that day on the Leuch- tenfeld. It was dead earnest——might have a serious outcome, for Jappe and Do Escobar were both stout and reckless fellows and had strong feelings about knightly honour. The issue might well be frightful. In my memory they still seem as tall and manly as they did then, though they could not have been more than fifteen at the time. Jappe came from the middle class of the city; he was not much looked after at home, he was already almost his own master, a combination of loafer and man-about-town. Do Escobar was an exotic and bohemian foreigner, who did not even come regularly to school but only attended lectures now and then——an irregular but paradisial existence! He lived en pension with some middle-class people and rejoiced in complete independence. Both were people who went late to bed, visited public-houses, strolled of evenings in the Broad Street, followed girls about, performed crazy "stunts"——in short, were regular blades. Although they did not live in the Kurhotel at Travemünde——where they would scarcely have been acceptable——but somewhere in the village, they frequented the Kurhaus and garden and were at home there as cosmopolitans. In the evening, especially on a Sunday, when I has long since been in my bed in one of the chalets and gone off to sleep to the pleasant sound of the Kurhaus band, they, and other members of the young generation——as I was aware——still sauntered up and down in the stream of tourists and guests, loitered in front of the long awning of the café, and sought and found grown-up entertainment. And here they had come to blows, good- ness knows how and why. It is possible that they had only brushed against each other in passing and in the sensitiveness of their knightly honour had made a fighting matter of the en- counter. Johnny, who of course had been long since in bed too and was instructed only by hearsay in what happened, expressed himself in his pleasant, slightly husky childish voice, that the quarrel was probably about some "gal"——an easy assumption, considering Jappe's and Do Escobar's precocity and boldness. In short, they had made no scene among the guests, but in few and biting words agreed upon hour and place and witnesses for the satisfaction of their honour. The next day, at twelve, rendezvous at such and such a spot on the Leuchtenfeld. Good evening.—— Ballet-master Knaak from Hamburg, master of ceremonies and leader of the Kurhaus cotillions, had been on the scene and prom- ised his presence at the appointed hour and place. Johnny rejoiced wholeheartedly in the fray——I think that neither he nor Brattström would have shared my apprehensions. Johnny repeatedly assured me, forming the r far forward on his palate, with his pretty enunciation, that they were both "in dead eahnest" and certainly meant business. Complacently and with a rather ironic objectivity he weighed the chances of victory for each. They were both frightfully strong, he grinned; both of them great fighters——it would be fun to have it settled which of them was the greater. Jappe, Johnny thought, had a broad chest and capital arm and leg muscles, he could tell that from seeing him swimming. But Do Escobar was uncommonly wiry and savage—— hard to tell beforehand who would get the upper hand. It was strange to hear Johnny discourse so sovereignly upon Jappe's and Do Escobar's qualifications, looking at his childish arms, which could never have given or warded off a blow. As for me, I was indeed far from absenting myself from the spectacle. That would have been absurd and moreover the proceedings had a great fasci- nation for me. Of course I must go, I must see it all, now that I knew about it. I felt a certain sense of duty, along with other and conflicting emotions: a great shyness and shame, all unwarlike as I was, and not at all minded to trust myself upon the scene of manly exploits. I had a nervous dread of the shock which the sight of a duel à outrance, a fight for life and death, as it were, would give me. I was cowardly enough to ask myself whether, once on the field, I might not be caught up in the struggle and have to expose my own person to a proof of valour which I knew in my inmost heart I was far from being able or willing to give. On the other hand I kept putting myself in Jappe's and Do Esco- bar's place and feeling consuming sensations which I assumed to be what they were feeling. I visualized the scene of the insult and the challenge, summoned my sense of good form and with Jappe and Do Escobar resisted the impulse to fall to there and then. I experienced the agony of an overwrought passion for justice, the flaring, shattering hatred, the attacks of raving impatience for revenge, in which they must have passed the night. Arrived at the last ditch, lost to all sense of fear, I fought myself blind and bloody with an adversary just as inhuman, drove my fist into his hated jaw with all the strength of my being, so that all his teeth were broken, received in exchange a brutal kick in the stomach and went under in a sea of blood. After which I woke in my bed with ice-bags, quieted nerves, and a chorus of mild reproaches from my family. In short, when it was half past twelve and we got up to dress I was half worn out with my apprehensions. In the cabin and afterwards when we were dressed and went outdoors, my heart throbbed exactly as though it was I myself who was to fight with Jappe or Do Escobar, in public and with all the rigours of the game. I still remember how we took the narrow wooden bridge which ran diagonally up from the beach to the cabins. Of course we jumped, in order to make it sway as much as possible, so that we bounced as though on a spring-board. But once below we did not follow the board walk which led along the beach past the tents and the basket chairs; but held inland in the general direction of the Kurhaus but rather more leftwards. The sun brooded over the dunes and sucked a dry, hot odour from the sparse and withered vegetation, the reeds and thistles that stuck into our leg. There was no sound but the ceaseless humming of the blue-bottle flies which hung apparently motionless in the heavy warmth, sud- denly to shift to another spot and begin afresh their sharp, mo- notonous whine. The cooling effect of the bath was long since spent. Brattström and I kept lifting our hats, he his Swedish sailor cap with the oilcloth visor, I my round Heligoland woollen bon- net——the so-called tam-o'-shanter——to wipe our brows. Johnny suffered little from heat, thanks to his slightness and also because his clothing was more elegantly adapted than ours to the summer day. In his light and comfortable sailor suit of striped washing material which left bare his throat and legs, the blue, short- ribboned cap with English lettering on his pretty little head, the long slender feet in fine, almost heelless white leather shoes, he walked with mounting strides and somewhat bent knees between Brattström and me and sang with his charming accent "Little Fisher Maiden"——a ditty which was then the rage. He sang it with some vulgar variation in the words, such as boys like to in- vent. Curiously enough, in all his childishness he knew a good deal about various matters and was not at all too prudish to take them in his mouth. But always he would make a sanctimonious little face and say: "Fie! Who would sing such dirty songs?"—— as though Brattström and I had been the ones to make indecent advances to the little fisher maiden. I did not feel at all like singing, we were too near the fatal spot. The prickly grass of the dunes had changed to the sand and sea moss of a barren meadow; this was the Leuchtenfeld, so called after the yellow lighthouse towering up in the far distance. We soon found ourselves at our goal. It was a warm, peaceful spot, where almost nobody ever came: protected from view by scrubby willow trees. On the free space among the bushes a crowd of youths lay or sat in a circle. They were almost all older than we and from various strata of society. We seemed to be the last spectators to arrive. Everybody was waiting for Knaak the dancing-master, who was needed in the capacity of neutral and umpire. Both Jappe and Do Escobar were there——I saw them at once. They were sitting far apart in the circle and pretending not to see each other. We greeted a few acquaintances with silent nods and squatted in our turn on the sun- warmed ground. Some of the group were smoking. Both Jappe and Do Escobar held cigarettes in the corners of their mouths. Each kept one eye shut against the smoke and I instantly felt and knew that they were aware how grand it was to sit there and smoke before entering the ring. They were both dressed in grown-up clothes, but Do Escobar's were more gentlemanly that Jappe's. He wore yellowed shoes with pointed toes, a light-grey summer suit, a rose- coloured shirt with cuffs, a coloured silk cravat, and a round, nar- row-brimmed straw hat sitting far back on his head, so that his mop of shining black hair showed on one side beneath it, in a big hummock. He kept raising his right hand to shake back the silver bangle he wore under his cuff. Jappe's appearance was distinctly less pretentious. His legs were encased in tight trousers of a lighter colour than his coat and waistcoat and fastened with straps under his waxed black boots. A checked cap covered his curly blond hair; in contrast to Do Escobar's jaunty headgear he wore it pulled down over his forehead. He sat with his arms clasped round one knee; you could see that he had on loose cuffs over his shirt-sleeves, also that his finger-nails were either cut too short or else that he indulged in the vice of biting them. Despite the smoking and the assumed nonchalance, the whole circle was serious and silent, restraint was in the air. The only one to make head against it was Do Escobar, who talked without stopping to his neighbours, in a loud, strained voice, rolling his r's and blow- ing smoke out of his nose. I was rather put off by his volubility; it inclined me, despite the bitten finger-nails, to side with Jappe, who at most addressed a word or two over his shoulder to his neighbour and for the rest gazed in apparent composure at the smoke of his cigarette. Then came Herr Knaak——I can still see him, in his blue striped flannel morning suit, coming with winged tread from the direc- tion of the Kurhaus and lifting his hat as he paused outside the circle. That he wanted to come I do not believe; I am convinced rather that he had made a virtue of necessity when he honoured the fight with his presence. And the necessity, the compulsion, was due to his equivocal position in the eyes of the martially- and mascu- linely-minded youth. Dark-skinned and comely, plump, particu- larly in the region of the hips, he gave us dancing and deportment lessons in the wintertime——private, family lessons as well as pub- lic classes in the Casino; and in the summer he acted as bathing- master and social manager at Travemünde. He rocked on his hips and weaved in his walk, turning out his toes very much and setting them first on the ground as he stepped. His eye had a vain ex- pression, his speech was pleasant but affected, and his way of entering a room as though it were a stage, his extraordinary and fastidious mannerisms charmed all the female sex, while the mascu- line world, and especially critical youth, viewed him with sus- picion. I have often pondered over the position of François Knaak in life and always have I found it strange and fantastic. He was of humble origins, his parents were poor, and his taste for the social graces left him as it were hanging in the air——not a member of society, yet paid by it as a guardian and instructor of its con- ventions. Jappe and Do Escobar were his pupils too; not in pri- vate lessons, like Johnny, Brattström, and me, but in the public classes in the Casino. It was in these that Herr Knaak's character and position were most sharply criticized. We of the private classes were less austere. A fellow who taught you the proper de- portment towards little girls, who was thrillingly reported to wear a corset, who picked up the edge of his frock-coat with his finger- tips, curtsied, cut capers, leaped suddenly into the air, where he twirled his toes before he came down again——what sort of chap was he, after all? These were the suspicions harboured by militant youth on the score of Herr Knaak's character and mode of life, and his exaggerated airs did nothing to allay them. Of course, he was a grown-up man (he was even, comically enough, said to have a wife and children in Hamburg); and his advantage in years and the fact that he was never seen except officially and in the dance-hall, prevented him from being convicted and unmasked. Could he do gymnastics? Had he ever been able to? Had he courage? Had he parts? In short, could one accept him as an equal? He was never in a position to display the soldier char- acteristics which might have balanced his salon arts and made him a decent chap. So there were youths who made no bones of call- ing him straight out a coward and a jackanapes. All this he knew and therefore he was here today to manifest his interest in a good stand-up fight and to put himself on terms with the young, though in his official position he should not have countenanced such goings-on. I am convinced, however, that he was not comfortable ——he knew he was treading on thin ice. Some of the audience looked coldly at him and he himself gazed uneasily round to see if anybody was coming. He politely excused his late arrival, saying that he had been kept by a consultation with the management of the Kurhaus about the next Sunday's ball. "Are the combatants present?" he next inquired in official tones. "Then we can begin." Leaning on his stick with his feet crossed he gnawed his soft brown mous- tache with his under lip and made owl eyes to look like a con- noisseur. Jappe and Do Escobar stood up, threw away their cigarettes, and began to prepare for the fray. Do Escobar did it in a hurry, with impressive speed. He threw hat, coat, and waistcoat on the ground, unfastened tie, collar, and braces and added them to the pile. He even drew his rose-coloured shirt out of his trousers, pulled his arms briskly out of the sleeves, and stood up in a red and white striped undershirt which exposed the larger part of his yellow arms, already covered with a thick black fell. "At you service, sir," he said, with a rolling r, stepping into the middle of the ring, expanding his chest and throwing back his shoulders. He still wore the silver bangle. Jappe was not ready yet. He turned his head, elevated his brows, and looked at Do Escobar's feet a moment with narrowed eyes——as much as to say: "Wait a bit——I'll get there too, even if I don't swagger so much." He was broader in the shoulder; but as he took his place beside Do Escobar he seemed nowhere near so fit or athletic. His legs in the tight strapped boots inclined to be knock-kneed and his fit-out was not impressive——grey braces over a yellowed white shirt with loose buttoned sleeves. By con- trast Do Escbar's striped tricot and the black hair on his arms looked uncommonly grim and businesslike. Both were pale but it showed more in Jappe as he was otherwise blond and red-cheeked, with jolly, not-too-refined features including a rather turned-up nose with a saddle of freckles. Do Escobar's nose was short, straight, and drooping and there was a downy black growth on his full upper lip. They stood with hanging arms almost breast to breast, and looked at one another darkly and haughtily in the region of the stomach. They obviously did not know how to begin——and how well I could understand that! A night and half a day had inter- vened since the unpleasantness. They had wanted to fly at each other's throats and had only been held in check by the rules of the game. But they had had time to cool off. To do to order, as it were, before an audience, by appointment, in cold blood, what they had wanted to do yesterday when the fit was on them——it was not the same thing at all. After all, they were not gladiators. They were civilized young men. And in possession of one's senses one has a certain reluctance to smash a sound human body with one's fists. So I thought, and so, very likely, it was. But something had to be done, that honour might be satisfied, so each began to work the other up by hitting him contemptu- ously with the finger-tips on the breast, as though that would be enough to finish him off. And, indeed, Jappe's face began to be distorted with anger—but just at that moment Do Escobar broke off the skirmish. "Pardon," said he, taking two steps backwards and turning aside. He had to tighten the buckle at the back of his trousers, for he was narrow-hipped and in the absence of braces they had begun to slip. He took his position again almost at once, throwing out his chest and saying something in guttural and rattling Spanish, probably to the effect that he was again at Jappe's service. It was clear that he was inordinately vain. The skirmishing with shoulders and buffeting with palms began again. Then unexpectedly there ensued a blind and raging hand- to-hand scuffle with the fists, which lasted three seconds and broke off without notice. "Now they are warming up," said Johnny, sitting next to me with a dry grass in his mouth. "I'll wager Jappe beats him. Look how he keeps squinting over at us——Jappe keeps his mind on his job. Will you bet he won't give him a good hiding?" They had now recoiled and stood, fists on hips, their chests heaving. Both had doubtless taken some punishment, for they both looked angry, sticking out their lips furiously as much as to say: "What do you mean by hurting me like that?" Jappe was red- eyed and Do Escobar showed his white teeth as they fell to again. They were hitting out now with all their strength on shoulders, forearms, and breasts by turns and in quick succession. "That's nothing," Johnny said, with his charming accent. "They won't get anywhere that way, either of them. They must go at it under the chin, with an uppercut to the jaw. That does it." But mean- while Do Escobar had caught both Jappe's arms with his left arm, pressed them as in a vise against his chest, and with his right went on pummelling Jappe's flanks. There was great excitement. "No clinching!" several voices cried out, and people jumped up. Herr Knaak hastened between the combatants, in horror. "You are holding him fast, my dear friend. That is against all the rules." He separated them and again instructed Do Escobar in the regulations. Then he withdrew once more outside the ring. Jappe was obviously in a fury. He was quite white, rubbing his side and looking at Do Escobar with a slow nod that boded no good. When the next round began, his face looked so grim that everybody expected him to deliver a decisive blow. And actually as soon as contact had been renewed Jappe carried out a coup——he practised a feint which he had probably planned beforehand. A thrust with his left caused Do Escobar to protect his head; but as he did so Jappe's right hit him so hard in the stomach that he crumpled forwards and his face took on the colour of yellow wax. "That went home," said Johnny. "That's where it hurts. Maybe now he will pull himself together and take things seri- ously, so as to pay it back." But the blow to the stomach had been too telling, Do Escobar's nerve was visibly shaken. It was clear he could not even clench his fists properly, and his eyes took on a glazed look. However, finding his muscles thus affected, his vanity counselled him to play the agile southron, dancing round the German bear and rendering him desperate by his own dex- terity. He took tiny steps and made all sorts of useless passes, moving round Jappe in little circles and trying to assume an arro- gant smile——which in his reduced condition struck me as really heroic. But it did not upset Jappe at all——he simply turned round on his heel and got in many a good blow with his right while with his left he warded off Do Escobar's feeble attack. But what sealed Do Escobar's fate was that his trousers kept slipping. His tricot shirt even came outside and rucked up, showing a little strip of his bare yellow skin——some of the audience sniggered. But why had he taken off his braces? He would have done better to leave æsthetic considerations on one side. For now his trousers bothered him, they had bothered him during the whole fight. He kept wanting to pull them up and stuff in his shirt, for however much he was punished he could bear it better than the thought that he might be cutting a ridiculous figure. In the end he was fighting with one hand while with the other he tried to put him- self to rights; and thus Jappe was able to land such a blow on his nose that to this day I do not understand why it was not broken. But the blood poured out, and Do Escobar turned and went apart from Jappe, trying with his right hand to stop the bleeding and with his left making an eloquent gesture behind him as he went. Jappe stood there with his knock-kneed legs spread out and waited for Do Escobar to come back. But Do Escobar was finished with the business. If I interpret him aright he was the more civilized of the two and felt that it was high time to call a halt: Jappe would beyond doubt have fought on with his nose bleed- ing; but almost as certainly Do Escobar would equally have re- fused to go on, and he did so with even more conviction in that it was himself that bled. They had made the claret run out of his nose——in his view things should never have been allowed to go so far, devil take it! The blood ran between his fingers onto his clothes, it soiled his light trousers and dripped on his yellow shoes. It was beastly and nothing but beastly——and under such circum- stances he declined to take part in more fighting. It would be inhuman. And his attitude was accepted by the majority of the spec- tators. Herr Knaak came into the ring and declared that the fight was over. Both sides had behaved with distinction. You could see how relieved he felt that the affair had gone off so smoothly. "But neither of them was brought to a fall," said Johnny, surprised and disappointed. However, even Jappe was quite satis- fied to consider the affair as settled. Drawing a long breath he went to fetch his clothes. Everybody generally accepted Herr Knaak's delicate fiction that the issue was a draw. Jappe was con- gratulated, but only surreptitiously; on the other hand some peo- ple lent Do Escobar their handkerchiefs, as his own was soon drenched. And now the cry was for more. Let two other fellows fight. That was the sense of the meeting; Jappe's and Do Escobar's business had taken so little time, hardly ten minutes; since they were all there and it was still quite early something more ought to come. Another pair must enter the arena——whoever wanted to show that he deserved being called a lad of parts. Nobody offered. But why at this summons did my heart begin to beat like a little drum? What I had feared had come to pass: the challenge had become general. Why did I feel as though I had all the time been awaiting this very moment with shivers of delicious anticipation and now when it had come why was I plunged into a whirl of conflicting emotions? I looked at Johnny. Perfectly calm and detached he sat beside me, turned his straw about in his mouth and looked about the ring with a frankly curious air, to see whether a couple of stout chaps would not be found to let their noses be broken for his amusement. Why was it that I had to feel personally challenged to conquer my nervous timidity, to make an unnatural effort and draw all eyes upon my- self by heroically stepping into the ring? In an access of self- consciousness mingled with vanity I was about to raise my hand and offer myself for combat when somewhere in the circle the shout arose: "Herr Knaak ought to fight!" All eyes fastened themselves upon Herr Knaak. I have said that he was walking upon slippery ice in exposing himself to the dan- ger of such a test of his kidney. But he simply answered: "No, thanks, very much——I had enough beatings when I was young." He was safe. He had slipped like an eel out of the trap. How astute of him, to bring in his superiority in years, to imply that at our age he would not have avoided an honourable fight——and that without boasting at all, even making his own words carry irre- sistible conviction by admitting with a disarming laugh at himself that he too had taken beatings in his time. They let him alone. They perceived that it was hard, if not impossible, to bring him to book. "Then somebody must wrestle!" was the next cry. This sug- gestion was not taken up either; but in the midst of the discussion over it (and I shall never forget the painful impression it made) Do Escobar said in his hoarse Spanish voice from behind his gory handkerchief: "Wrestling is for cowards. Only Germans wrestle." It was an unheard of piece of tactlessness, coming from him, and got its reward at once in the capital retort made by Herr Knaak: "Possible," said he. "But it looks as though the Germans know how to give pretty good beatings sometimes too!" He was rewarded by shouts of approving laughter; his whole position was improved, and Do Escobar definitely put down for the day. But it was the general opinion that wrestling was a good deal of a bore, and so various athletic feats were resorted to instead: leap-frog, standing on one's head, handsprings and so on, to fill in the time. "Come on, let's go," said Johnny to Brattström and me, and got up. That was Johnny Bishop for you. He had come to see something real, with the possibility of a bloody issue. But the thing had petered out and so he left. He gave me my first impression of the peculiar superiority of the English character, which later on I came so greatly to admire. 1911 
From Thomas Mann: Stories of Three Decades, Translated from the German by H. T. Lowe-Porter. Copyright, 1930, 1931, 1934, 1935, 1936, by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. The Modern Library edition, Random House, Inc. pp. 328—339.
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