#Shed Demolition

[junkbegoneusa]

Are you living in Freehold, New Jersey and you are facing a problem arranging your space? If yes, then JUNK BE GONE is the best option for you. We offer a hassle-free and reliable removal service for your unwanted items quickly and efficiently. From old furniture and mattresses to electronics and appliances, our team of professionals will safely remove and dispose of all your unwanted junk. For more details about our services please visit our website now.  https://junkbegoneusa.com/

[bradsjunkremoval]

Stress-Free Garage Sale Cleanup Services You Can Rely On | Brads Junk Removal Moving

After a successful garage sale, cleaning up can feel overwhelming. Our Garage Sale Cleanup service takes the hassle out of post-sale mess. We handle everything from leftover items to trash removal quickly and efficiently. Our friendly team ensures your space is spotless, giving you more time to relax and enjoy your decluttered home. With dependable service and attention to detail, we make cleanup easy and worry-free. Whether you need one-time help or ongoing assistance, we’re here to support your cleanup needs with care. Choose a smooth, simple finish to your garage sale with our trusted cleanup service.

[junkremovalservicesbc]

Why Hiring a Professional Junk Removal Service Saves Time and Stress

Clearing out clutter, renovating your home, or managing construction debris? One thing’s certain—it creates a lot of junk. While it may seem like a good idea to handle it yourself, the process can quickly become overwhelming. That’s where a professional junk removal service like Moose Demolition & Junk Removal steps in to make your life easier.

Here’s why hiring professionals not only saves you time but also reduces stress, giving you peace of mind and a clean space.

1. Time is Money – Save Both

Sorting, lifting, loading, and transporting junk can take several hours—or even days—especially if you’re not equipped with the right tools and vehicle. A professional team can handle the entire job efficiently in a fraction of the time.

At Moose Demolition & Junk Removal, we arrive on time, assess the load, and get to work immediately. Whether it’s a single room cleanout or post-renovation debris, our team is trained to work quickly without compromising safety or cleanliness.

2. Safe and Responsible Disposal

Disposing of junk isn’t just about tossing things into a dumpster. Certain materials need to be sorted, recycled, or disposed of according to municipal regulations. Improper handling could lead to fines or environmental harm.

Our crew is well-versed in eco-friendly practices. We recycle and donate where possible, and ensure all waste is disposed of responsibly—keeping both your conscience and the planet clean.

3. Avoid Heavy Lifting and Injury

Lifting bulky items like old appliances, furniture, or construction debris can be dangerous without proper equipment or training. You risk back injuries, cuts, or worse.

Our professionals are trained in safe lifting techniques and come equipped with the right tools and protective gear. Let us handle the heavy work while you relax or focus on more important tasks.

4. Custom Solutions for Any Situation

Junk removal isn’t one-size-fits-all. Maybe you’re a homeowner cleaning out a basement, a contractor finishing a job site, or a business doing a commercial cleanout. Each situation has unique needs.

At Moose Demolition, we tailor our services to your specific situation. From residential cleanups to commercial junk removal and demolition debris hauling, we’ve got the expertise to handle it all.

5. Regain Valuable Space

Cluttered garages, basements, or backyards don’t just look messy—they waste usable space. Clearing out junk allows you to repurpose these areas, whether for storage, new projects, or simply a more enjoyable environment.

When you hire professionals, the transformation is instant. You’ll be surprised how much cleaner and more organized your space feels after just one visit.

6. Less Stress, More Peace of Mind

Let’s face it—junk removal is a stressful task, especially when you’re dealing with deadlines, a move, or a renovation. It adds to your to-do list and drains your energy.

Our goal at Moose Demolition & Junk Removal is to make the process seamless. You call, we haul—it’s that easy. No need to worry about sorting, renting a truck, or spending your weekend doing heavy lifting.

Why Choose Moose Demolition & Junk Removal?

We’re a trusted name in the Lower Mainland BC, offering fast, friendly, and reliable junk removal services. With a focus on safety, sustainability, and customer satisfaction, we take pride in helping homes and businesses stay clean and clutter-free.

Fully licensed & insured

Eco-conscious disposal

Quick response times

Affordable pricing with no hidden fees

Final Words

When it comes to removing junk—whether from a renovation, move, or seasonal cleanout—choosing a professional junk removal service is a smart investment. It not only saves you valuable time but also spares you from the physical strain and mental stress.

At Moose Demolition & Junk Removal, we handle the dirty work so you don’t have to. From start to finish, our team ensures a hassle-free, eco-friendly, and efficient experience tailored to your needs. Don’t let clutter take over your space or peace of mind – reach out to the pros and reclaim your space with confidence.

[portlanddeckdemolition]

Portland Fence Demolition: Everything You Need to Know

Are you staring at that old, rickety fence and thinking it’s time for a change? Whether you’re looking to upgrade to something more modern or simply want to clear out that eyesore, fence demolition in Portland can be a game-changer. Let's explore the ins and outs of Portland Fence Demolition, from why you might need it to how to choose the best service for the job.

Why Consider Fence Demolition?

Enhance Curb Appeal

First impressions matter. A worn-out fence can make even the nicest house look shabby. Removing an old fence can instantly boost your property’s curb appeal, making it look well-maintained and inviting.

Increase Property Value

Thinking about selling your home? A new fence—or even just the removal of an old one—can significantly increase your property value. Buyers are more likely to be interested in a property that looks move-in ready, and a fresh, open yard can be very appealing.

Ensure Safety

Old fences can be dangerous. Rotten wood, rusted metal, and unstable structures pose risks to children, pets, and even adults. Demolishing an old fence eliminates these hazards, making your yard a safer place for everyone.

Prepare for New Installations

Planning a new fence, garden, or outdoor living space? Demolition is the first step. Clearing out the old makes way for the new, allowing you to start fresh with your latest project.

Types of Fences Commonly Demolished

Wooden Fences

Wooden fences are popular for their classic look but can deteriorate over time due to weather and pests. Demolition involves careful removal to prevent splinters and ensure all nails and debris are cleared away.

Chain Link Fences

Chain link fences are sturdy but can become unsightly as they age. Removing them involves cutting through metal links and posts, often requiring specialized tools.

Vinyl Fences

Vinyl fences are durable but can crack and fade. Demolition requires breaking down large sections and properly disposing of the non-biodegradable material.

Metal Fences

Wrought iron and aluminum fences are elegant but can rust and weaken. Demolition of metal fences often involves cutting through heavy materials and dealing with rusted parts.

How to Choose the Best Fence Demolition Service in Portland

Check Their Reputation

Start with online reviews and testimonials. A good reputation is a strong indicator of quality service. Look for companies with consistently high ratings and positive feedback.

Assess Their Experience

Experience matters. Companies with a long track record in fence demolition are more likely to handle your project efficiently and safely. They know the common pitfalls and how to avoid them.

Verify Their Licensing and Insurance

Ensure the company is licensed and insured. This protects you from liability in case of accidents or damage during the demolition process.

Get a Detailed Estimate

Request a detailed estimate before committing. This should include labor, materials, and disposal costs. Be wary of hidden fees—transparency is key.

Evaluate Their Eco-Friendliness

Ask about their disposal practices. A responsible company will recycle materials whenever possible and dispose of waste in an environmentally friendly manner.

Top Fence Demolition Services in Portland

1. Portland Fence Pros

Known for their expertise and reliable service, Portland Fence Pros handle all types of fence demolitions. They pride themselves on eco-friendly disposal and excellent customer service.

2. Eco Demolition

Specializing in sustainable demolition practices, Eco Demolition ensures that as much material as possible is recycled or repurposed. They are a top choice for environmentally conscious homeowners.

3. PDX Fence Removal

A local favorite, PDX Fence Removal offers competitive pricing and quick turnaround times. Their team is experienced and well-equipped to handle any fence demolition project.

Preparing for Fence Demolition

Plan Your Timeline

Schedule your demolition well in advance. Good companies book up quickly, especially during peak seasons. Planning ahead ensures you can start your new project on time.

Inform Your Neighbors

Demolition can be noisy and disruptive. Let your neighbors know about your plans in advance to maintain good relations and avoid complaints.

Clear the Area

Remove any items near the fence, such as plants, furniture, or decorations. This protects your belongings and gives the demolition crew clear access to the fence.

Arrange for Disposal

Discuss disposal with your demolition company. Ensure they have a plan for removing debris from your property and recycling materials when possible.

Conclusion

Fence demolition in Portland doesn’t have to be a daunting task. With the right service, you can quickly and efficiently remove your old fence, making way for new opportunities and enhancing the beauty and safety of your property. Whether you’re upgrading to a new fence, creating a new garden space, or simply clearing out the old, professional fence demolition services are here to help. So, roll up your sleeves, make the call, and get ready to transform your outdoor space!

[rawbeas]

sometimes ur sad but then!!! sledgehammer

[awediversifiedservices]

Expert Shed Demolition Services in Charlotte, NC | AWE Diversified Services

Need to demolish an old shed in Charlotte, NC? AWE Diversified Services offers professional and efficient shed demolition services. Contact us for a free quote and hassle-free removal.

[yourtarotsisfromindia]

PICK AN IMAGE : YOUR FUTURE BELOVED'S LETTER TO YOU (18+ CUZ THIS IS EMOTIONAL 😭)

(Anyone of any gender or sexuality can read this. I might've written "He" but that's only to make it easier for me to channel the full message . Nothing else.)

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Who am I ? PAID SERVICES

Reblog or Comment to lemme know which one was yours and if it resonated.

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📜 Card Energy Breakdown (short and savage) before the actual letter 💌:

Temperance - Divine timing, healing, balance. They're patient. They’ve been through shit and know how to pour into you without spilling. This is a love that alchemizes. It doesn’t rush. It matures.

Magician - This mf MANIFESTED you. They will move mountains. Strategic, focused, powerful. They’re actively creating a life with you in it. You’re not just a muse; you're part of the plan.

Death - TRANSFORMATION. This is a love that demands ego death, rebirth, and vulnerability. They’re not here to play nice and safe - they’re here to strip you raw (emotionally. and maybe also physically). It's intense but liberating.

Ace of Spades (growth, hurdles, obstacles) - The foundation of this connection isn’t fluff. It’s forged through pain, choices, healing, and sacred resilience. It’s the “we fought to find each other” kind of vibe.

THE LETTER 💌 💌 💌

Baby , my sweet, you already know how madly im in love with you . I'm not perfect ;I have my own flaws ; moments where I'm not the best I can be for you but gods do I try . And I want to keep trying . You deserve someone who'd be their very best ; someone who'd choose you over and over and over again . In sickness , in health , in summer , and in rain . I want to be that person . I strive to be that person . I cannot promise you eternal happiness nor can I say that you won't ever cry with me, because life has its own way of breaking us . But I can promise you a permanent shoulder to cry on . A chest to bury your face in and shed your worries . A voice to soothe your ears from the harshness of this world . Hands to hold you when you feel lonely . Feet to carry your burdens when they feel heavy . I can promise you , you'd forever have a home in me . There's nothing more I want than your happiness and your company . You already have my heart . If I could give you my soul that would be yours too .

People often say they wish to leave before their beloved , so that they don't have to bear the pain of seeing their loved one die . Let me tell you , I do not wish for that . I wish to be by your side until your last breath . I am not going anywhere as long as you breathe on this earth . Maybe I won't go anywhere even after you've taken a new life . For I know that I'll find you . Love you . No matter who you are where you are and how you are . This is my promise to you .

Loving you isn't something I do ,it's who I am. It's how I breathe.

You are not my chapter, you are my entire book, and I will write you into every life I live. Even if your hands grow unfamiliar, and your eyes no longer remember me then I will remind you. I will wait for you to remember.

And if remembering never comes, I will love you quietly, like the moon loves the sea, never touching, always watching, and still pulling the tides in your favor.

IM CRYING 😭 THIS IS SO SWEET . WHOEVER GETS THIS IS ONE LUCKY PERSON 😩

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💔 Quick Card Breakdown (a.k.a. Why This Lover is Built from Sadness and Stardust):

Death – Again with the fkn rebirth. But this time, it’s personal. It's their internal demolition, the collapse of old identities. The shedding of the performance. They’re not rising from ashes , they are the ash.

3 of Pentacles – They want to build with you. Not for clout, not to perform, but for something real. They want to be seen as they are, not just as a “useful” piece in everyone else’s game.

The Hanged Man – Babyyyy this person has been suspended in pain. They’ve been waiting. Learning. Surrendering. They're not someone who chased love, they fell into it when they stopped running from themselves.

10 of Spades – Straight up trauma. Loss. Isolation. Betrayal. BUT ALSO the potential to be reborn through connection. This isn’t someone who wants to be “fixed.” They want to be loved in the process of healing.

THE LETTER 💌💌💌 (also ... Oh my god)

My love , my heart , I love you . Let me begin with that . I'm not eloquent . I cannot write sonnets or make grand claims . I can only say simple words . So this letter would be just that . I love you . Loving you isn't a chore for me . It's not a task . It's not a project . It's not even a choice . It's simply natural . As natural as breathing is for me . A subconscious action . The moment I saw you , my heart knew it had found its home . After so long . Finally . All my life I've been appreciated for my talents , used for my abilities , looked at and admired for what I can do, what I can be , but you , my heart , you saw who I truly am . You saw the human underneath the mask . The true broken child who seeked nothing but love . And instead of assuming I was a burden , you embraced me . With all that you had . And that ... That is more than enough for me . Loving you is as natural as living to me . I have nothing else to ask from you . Simply keep loving me just as I love you . Which I already know you'll do . Bear with me a little when I get insecure or feel low . I'm still working to be better for you . I want to heal and be my best for you . I want you to be proud of who I am . So I'm going to keep getting better . I promise . I love you . Sometimes I still flinch at kindness. I still wait for the silence that usually follows affection- that cold absence where love used to be. But you stay. You stay even when I’m quiet. Even when I’m afraid to be touched.

You hold me like I’m something soft, not broken. And maybe - just maybe , I can believe you. Maybe love isn’t a test or a debt. Maybe it's this,your hand in mine. No contracts. No expectations. Just breath, and the wild, unthinkable hope that I’m not too much to love.

EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY INTO MY PILLOW 😭

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🎭 Card Breakdown (aka hot mess with a heart of gold):

3 of Pentacles – AGAIN. Collaboration, trust, working together, this person sees love as teamwork. They don't want to just romance you, they wanna build a life with you and bring value to your world.

The Hanged Man – Again-again. 😭 This lover is someone who has learned stillness. Maybe they used to chase love for validation (Jack of Spades vibes) but now they’ve matured enough to pause and just see you. Love you. Worship you.

6 of Swords – Healing baby. Movement from rough waters to smoother ones. This is someone who's been through heartbreak or emotional chaos and has chosen you as the soft place to land, and they’re gonna make damn sure they never cause you harm.

Jack of Spades – UGH. The charming disaster. The cunning, observant, painfully attractive little shit with a tragic backstory and too many layers to count. Someone who learned how to survive by being sharp, funny, magnetic, but now just wants one person to see the softness beneath it all.

THE LETTER 💌💌💌

Babyyyy , I'm back . Ahem ... Yes . This is probably my millionth letter to you (actually it's the 623rd ... Yes I keep count . No it's not weird shh) ... It's wild how I'm writing you letters instead of texting you or saying these things to you outright . But letters help me calm down and pen all my thoughts you know . I talk too fast and I have so many things to say to you that I worry I'll lose track or forget stuff . So writing is easier for me . Ofcourse you already know that cuz you're my baby . Right , so today I was thinking I'll tell you how much I love you . Yes yes I know I tell it to you everyday but ... Still . Today I wanted to emphasise on it . I truly love you , baby . You see sides of me no one else ever bothered to. You see who I am beyond the wit , the charm , the beauty , the popularity . You see the more broken sides . You see the sides of me that crave attention as a way to reassure myself that I still matter.. You see all my flaws hidden behind the charming facade and you embraced them . You love them . I love seeing myself through your gaze(I love your eyes too . Very pretty .) You love me in all my forms . The charming one , the broken one , the heartbreaker , the lover ... Every form . And you hold them all in the same way . And I just .. I don't have enough words to express how absolutely grateful I am to have you in my life . How lucky I feel every single moment that you love me . You chose me . You want to spend your life with me . There's so much I want to say or write ... But my words arent enough to express my love for you . Sometimes even my actions don't feel enough to express the heaviness I feel in my chest when I look at you (the good kind . The kind that makes me feel all full and warm and soft) ... There's nothing in this world that I can do to truly express how much I love you . If I could do something beyond everything I already do to express myself , I would . I absolutely would . I love too damn much . It drives me insane how much I need you . I love you , I need to love you to survive at this point (many might say it's unhealthy. I don't care .) I crave you . I crave to be in the same air that you breathe . Crave to be with you always (yes I know you need your personal space . Don't worry baby I'll always give it to you . Even if I don't want to be away from you. But your comfort is my priority) . You know, sometimes I wonder what my life would've been if I hadn't met you. And the thought alone makes me feel sick. Not dramatic sick, actual sick. Like I missed a train to heaven and didn’t even know it. You’re not just the love of my life. You’re the anchor that keeps me from floating into space. You’re my reason. And if anyone ever asks me why I love you so much, I won’t even know what to say, because the real answer is- How could I not? How could I not fall in love with the one person who made the whole universe feel like home?

Ahem ... I'm going off topic.

Right back to topic . I love you . A lot . Really . A lot.

P.s - I'm getting you a puppy for your next birthday . You always wanted to be a dog mom no ? I've asked a friend of mine to prepare a space for the dog to live . We can go to choose one to adopt soon.

OH MY GOD WHAT IN THE ROMEO JULIET IS THIS HUMAN BEING 😩

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🃏Card Breakdown (professor daddy edition):

The Hanged Man – Stillness. Patience. Observation. He watches. Learns. He’s not rushing anything. His love is measured, eternal, intentional. He's not dramatic, he's present.

6 of Swords – He’s been through his own darkness. And now? He’s your harbor. You’re his safe passage, and he’s yours. He’s the calm after every storm.

10 of Cups – This is the dream. Not the fantasy. The real, lived, long-term, built-through-effort emotional fulfillment. You are his home. His family. His peace.

Ace of Spades (again) – Growth, hardship, transformation. This love earned its place. He became the man worthy of this love through struggle and silence and decades of self-forging.

THE LETTER 💌💌💌

(I legit heard a calm slightly husky voice go darling in that calm professor tone ???????????? In my head????) (this pile is the "daddiest" of them all . Yep . Legit . Getting daddy vibes .)

Darling , I don't have to write to let you know how much I love you and what you are to me . But since you told me to write you a letter , here I am . Penning my thoughts. You are my heart ,my soul , my reason to love and live . You're my everything . I'm yours . Just as you are mine . My breath is yours , my heart is yours , my soul is yours . I do not know what I would've been like without you . I don't wish to think of it either . I know I'm not the most .. open person . I don't talk a lot . I don't even express a lot . But for you , I'm willing to learn . To learn to love you , to learn what brings you comfort , what makes you happy , what satisfies you . For you I'd do it all . I love you for everything that you are. Never doubt that for a second . I love the way you laugh , the way you sit , the way to fold into my arms when it's thundering outside , the way you seek my comfort all the time , I love holding you , being there for you no matter what . I love you . I love you endless shopping lists too . Don't worry , I will keep working hard to make sure you're never lacking anything your heart desires . Do not pay attention to anyone who says I spoil you too much or that you're too dependent on me (yes I'm aware that your friends said that to you). Darling , I earn FOR YOU . My job is my passion but you are my purpose . And I strive to fulfill my purpose every day . So do not ever blame yourself for desiring things . I will fulfill them all . I love you . I love everything about you . And I will always love you . People may not see my love because I don't make grand gestures or overtly public claims of love . I don’t speak often. Not because I don’t feel—but because words fall short. How do I describe the way my world softens when you walk into a room? How do I explain that your laughter has become the hymn my heart prays to? I won’t always say it out loud.

But you’ll see it, in the tea waiting for you after a long day. In the way I remember how you take your toast. In the moments where I hold you like I'd break if you let go, In the times when I cook for you your favorite dishes , in the way I arrange your closet just how you like it , in the quietest and slowest of moments , I love you . That is my love. Quiet. Constant. Unshakable. And it is yours. It's always there . I'll always love you . Till the end of our lives and them some more .

SIR/MA'AM????!!!!!!?? PLEASE???!!????

[divine-swordsmaster]

Paws hit the floor softly. Taph knew he shouldn’t to Dusekkar for this but he wanted the deer to rest….

@tripmine-demolition

-> Sheds was cleaning off his sword with an old rag, the thing being partly stained with... Some sort of semi-glowing green fluid. Probably from 1x...

[asterdisaster06]

Rottweiler

Summary > the aftermath of the previous mission rottweiler went on

Word count > 1.9k

a/n > i’m back with some more inspiration and maybe a more reliable posting schedule. this time, rottweiler is fighting themselves rather than a faceless enemy

“Are you sure you’re okay to spar?”

“Yes, now will you shut up?” You snarled out to the man in front of you.

“For the record, the doctor recommended you to rest a few more days. Refrain from tearing any stitching out,” Ghost stated, staring deep into your soul - or what was left of it.

You match his gaze, hardened to far worse than the disappointed deadpan he was giving you just now. You knew he was right to some extent. The medical staff did give you a major side eye as they saw you leaving, but they let you check yourself out. It’s unlikely you would have taken no for an answer, following in the footsteps of your fellow teammates. They can’t particularly say shit to you after what they’ve pulled in the past and they know it

Soap, who’s had an entire rusted pole sticking out of him, more shrapnel coating his frame than you thought the human body could ever escape from alive. Blood coagulating on the dusty sand below him, a sick abstract art. An elegy to his role as a demolitions expert - the very thing that might have killed him. Except it didn’t.

He took a fist to the reaper and threw him the middle finger for good measure.

Simon, God, Simon. There was barely anything that boy hadn’t been through. His past was a humourless tale crafted by something far beyond anything comprehensible. There isn’t even a specific instance to describe as death was determined to make his body match his name. A symbol of death, remnanted - left to wander. A sick dance, each touch driving a wedge further and further between Simon and the world of the living. It should have left him wounded, but it only made him a good soldier.

He spat in the face of God and refused an apology from the devil. She shed tears for him, and he turned them to vapour with the heat of his fury.

Gaz, a walking liability to himself - though unintentional. He’s like a ragdoll at the whims of whatever life throws at him. Or, more accurately, where life throws him. It’s a miracle he’s existed this long without a permanent injury given what he’s experiences almost daily. From the small, tripping over himself or running into tables, to the big, falling out of helicopters or over the railings of bridges.

He was made to die, but all he had to say to that was ‘but I’m here to stay.’ He insists, it seems, on living.

Price, he’s experienced a lot. Life hasn’t treated him well, not that it treated any of the other’s with soft hands, but especially him. He’s seen enough to be scarred for ten lifetimes over. The choices he’s had to make might weigh heavier on his heart than the scars littering his body. If Simon is a walking ghost, Price is a shambling corpse.

His life is brimming with sorrow, and it appears as if he has killed his own guardian angel to survive as ours. An ode to those he loves.

“Hesitating like that can cost you your life, y’know,” Simon grumbles, bringing you back to the present.

“So I’ve been told,” You spit, a phantom taste of blood following it.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

He takes calculated steps, circling you like a dog. The dust beneath your feet shifts - seeming to breathe alongside you. You’re stiff, more so than you would’ve liked to be in these sorts of scenarios; it doesn’t stop you though. Bloodshot eyes stare back at you and you aren’t sure if it’s Simon’s or a reflection of your own. A pause. A moment taken out of respect - a silence. An opening.

You jump.

You claw.

You grasp.

A pitiful attempt against someone you couldn’t even beat on your best day, not in a way that mattered. Given a weapon, and an element of surprise, you might have had a chance. Hand-to-hand combat paired with a lack of fluid movement renders you careless and therefore battered into defeat. Simon is like a bear, or a ram, maybe a mountain lion. These are the thoughts that fully occupy you for the moment you’re rushed to your back, thrown to the ground with as much care as he could manage.

“I told you, you aren’t ready.”

“I never was, Simon,” You huff out, ragged breaths choked by the dirt flying in the air.

“You hesitate,” He points out. “You didn’t used to.”

“I didn’t,” You insist. A lie, and you know it.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t be getting back on the field for another month regardless. Not my decision so save your yapping,” He lets the knee off your chest and offers a hand. You don’t take it.

“There’s nothing interesting for another month, I’ll live,” You shake off his attempt to rattle you.

“Don’t be so sure,” Simon says, bringing down his neck gaiter. You can’t help but stare at the scar across his lip.

“Looking good LT,” Soap’s voice carries across the field.

“I know the last mission diminished my looks, but am I really that bad?” You deadpan.

“Of course not, Rottie. Do I not tell you enough how stunning you are?” Soap adjusts the fabric around your neck, a touch far more gentle than you deserve.

A wry smile creeps across your face. Your boys always let you know how appreciated you are, both for your abilities and appearance. They’re like your little cheer squad sometimes. Gaz and Soap are more vocal about it, but small touches and comments from Price and Ghost always cause a ripple of butterflies in your stomach.

You roll your eyes and reply, “Far too much, Johnny.” You didn’t mean it.

“Get used to it,” He says, giving you a little mock salute.

It brings your attention to the bandage still on his hand, freshly changed. It reminds you that yours likely need to be cleaned and switched at this point, but you feel undeserving of that kindness. A deep sense of guilt washes over you.

“Don’t sweat it, Bonnie.” He always knows what you’re thinking, a skill you wish would’ve lost its accuracy long ago.

“I need a walk,” You sigh, finishing it off with: “Alone.”

Your feet carry you away, far from the discomfort that was growing inside of your chest. An overwhelming, overachiever, though, you weren’t sure whether you were talking about yourself or the resentment felt towards your mangled body and mind. The memories linger beyond the physical flesh wounds, and somehow hurt more. They sink their teeth into your mangy fur, sticking like fleas to a street mongrel. Your thoughts scrape down your flank. Piercing to the bone; brittle and sad excuses of the framework that is your cage.

You weren’t sure how you felt, but you knew it wasn’t a good feeling. It settled underneath your skin like a parasite. It laid on top of it like a tick. You were terrified. That’s what it was. It was familiar, like your mirror years ago. A sick reflection of an even sicker dog. Self pity wells up like tears, pooling like blood, streaming like sweat. You tread further and further, each footfall sounding like bullets to you. Maybe you’re just stressed.

A whole entire month. It gnaws at you, that information. It shouldn’t, but it does. You know your team better than anyone; they’re reliable, resilient, and know how to function without you. They did it long before, and can continue to do so long after. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt. If it didn’t sting like nettle brushing against your fur. It is unlikely that any extreme mission would be put forth while a team member was out of commission, but you never know with the higher ups. It pains you, an ache blooms across your body at the thought of missing out on the danger. Flowering into a debilitating burn inside of you. Afflicting your mind, thoughts run wild with what ifs.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be up and walking, soldier.”

You had walked yourself right into the lion’s den.

“Price,” You greet, nervousness bubbling up in your throat.

“Rottie.”

“They didn’t stop me,” You say as an excuse.

“Unless they wanted to tranquillise you, I don’t think they could,” Price rolls his eyes.

“They’re free to try,” You quip, shrugging.

“That’s the point, nobody wants to.”

“I’m here, I can walk, I’m not tearing any stitches out, I can shower on my own. What else do you want?” You glare half-heartedly at the rugged man in front of you.

“I want you on bed rest and away from any missions, soldier,” Price says, a forlorn tone almost coating his words like honey. It almost makes you want to roll over and submit, licking the taste from his hands. Key word, almost. Your pride won’t allow you to.

“Like hell that’s happening. I really can’t be arsed to follow any of what I just heard,” You snap. You were cold, tired, and going stir crazy. This wasn’t what you needed-

“This is exactly what you need. A step away from this life. Away from us,” Price says, paralysing you. He isn’t wrong, but he isn’t right either.

“Where do you want me to go?” You ask, slipping into the professional nature. Like a hunting dog sent on a mission, following the scent of those above and below itself.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Don’t do that. Don’t treat it like just another mission from your past life,” Price’s tone hardens alongside his face - all traces of softness gone to someone who hasn’t known him. Not like you have. You know it’s like correcting a dog; you still love them, but they need guidance sometimes. You fight against it.

“Where, Price, where?” You ask again.

“Laswell suggested spending some time in the states. Away from all of this. Someplace you’ll be. . . content.” His hollow words echo the word “safe” as if you actively seek trouble these days. Actively sniff out traps yet always seem to get your paw clamped in the snares meant for rabbits.

“Fine,” You say, about to turn on your heel and leave.

“Hound,” Price starts, using your official callsign. “Don’t take this the wrong way, don’t distance yourself again. You’ve worked hard to get here and have earned a safe place-”

“Except for when I actually need it,” You let slip out.

“It isn’t safe here.”

“It’s a hell of a lot safer than where I was before, don’t you think?” You snarl, teeth bared and lips pulled back. Rabid, foaming at the mouth, not a house pet anymore.

“We aren’t kicking you out.” Price says this, but you can’t help but doubt it.

“Okay.”

“I mean it, we aren’t.”

“Okay.”

You find yourself staring at the scars Price lets fly free in the old tee he decided to don today. You helped pick it out. Tearing your eyes away from his chest, you can’t find yourself to meet his gaze, opting instead to stare at the paraphernalia around his office. You linger on the photos of your team a little too long. Logically you know he’s right, this is a temporary precaution. If only it didn’t feel like the quarantine before they lop your head off to test for rabies.

“I’m going to go now,” You speak, knowing it’s not what Price was waiting for you to say.

“Okay,” He responds, his turn now for the small talk.

Turning on your feet, you prepare yourself for the god awful goodbyes that will inevitably have to occur and the temporary gift of life being bestowed upon you. If only it felt that way. If only you could view it as that. If only it didn’t have to happen. If only.

[junkbegoneusa]

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[bradsjunkremoval]

Why Should Junk Removal Help You Save Time and Reduce Stress!

Although most people think that garbage removal merely entails getting rid of clutter, it can also result in significant cost savings. Eliminating unnecessary items is the most cost-effective course of action because it reduces the need for expensive repairs. A clutter-free atmosphere is easier to maintain, boosts productivity, and reduces wasteful expenses. Whether you're moving, downsizing, or just want a cleaner house, Junk removal can have both immediate and long-term benefits.

[junkremovalservicesbc]

Difference Between Garbage Removal and Junk Removal Services

When you’re decluttering, renovating, or managing waste at home or on a job site, you might wonder—is this a garbage removal job or a junk removal task? While the terms are often used interchangeably, garbage removal and junk removal are two distinct services with different purposes, methods, and benefits.

At Moose Demolition & Junk Removal, we specialize in professional junk removal across Canada. Let us break down the key differences to help you decide which service suits your needs.

1. What Is Garbage Removal?

Garbage removal is the routine service provided by your city or municipality. It usually involves the collection of:

Household waste

Food scraps

Packaging

Plastic and other disposable items

Key Features:

This service is typically scheduled weekly or bi-weekly and is handled by city-operated trucks that pick up your bins or bags from the curb.

Regular, scheduled pickup

Limited to household waste

Handled by the city

Restrictions on bulk or hazardous items

2. What Is Junk Removal?

Best for: Daily kitchen waste, bathroom trash, recyclables, and compostable materials.

Junk removal, on the other hand, is a professional service you hire to clear out bulk, non-regular, or oversized waste. At Moose Demolition & Junk Removal, we specialize in removing:

Furniture and appliances

Renovation debris

Yard waste

Electronics

Old mattresses and bulky items

Construction waste

Junk removal is usually on-demand and includes labour. Our team comes to your location, lifts, loads, and hauls everything away—often recycling or donating items that are still usable.

Key Features:

On-demand, scheduled service

Includes labour and transportation

Handles large or bulky items

Often includes eco-friendly disposal

Best for: Cleanouts, moving, renovations, estate clearing, or construction projects.

3. Garbage vs Junk Removal: Key Differences at a Glance

FeatureGarbage RemovalJunk RemovalWho Handles ItCity/Municipal servicesPrivate company (like Moose Demolition)FrequencyScheduled (weekly/bi-weekly)On-demand/as neededItems AcceptedHousehold waste, recyclablesFurniture, renovation debris, e-waste, etc.Size & VolumeSmall, bagged items onlyLarge, bulky, or multiple loadsLabour IncludedNo (you bag it and take it to curb)Yes (we lift, load, and haul it away)Eco-Conscious DisposalLimited (city recycling options only)Yes (sorting, recycling, donation)

4. When to Choose Junk Removal Over Garbage Pickup

You’ll need junk removal services when:

You’re doing renovations and generating debris

You’re moving homes and need to discard large items

You’ve cleaned out a garage, basement, or attic

You’ve inherited a property that needs clearing

You’re managing a commercial or construction site

At Moose Demolition & Junk Removal, we handle everything—from dismantling and hauling to sorting and eco-friendly disposal. Whether it’s a single couch or a full demolition clean-up, we’ve got you covered.

5. Why Choose Moose Demolition & Junk Removal?

 1. Locally owned and operated in Canada

 2. Fast, reliable scheduling

 3. Full-service removal – you don’t lift a finger

 4. Affordable and transparent pricing

 5. Eco-conscious – we recycle and donate whenever possible

We understand that every project is unique, which is why we offer flexible solutions tailored to your needs.

Final Thoughts

While garbage removal handles your everyday household waste, junk removal is the smart solution when you’re dealing with larger, heavier, or one-time clutter.

If your project involves old furniture, renovation leftovers, or large-scale cleanouts, Moose Demolition & Junk Removal is here to make the process easy and hassle-free.

[joezworld]

Christmas Story

December 3 -  A few days later

The class 37 sniffed dismissively as Bear collected the train from him at Barrow. “Dunno why you need ta take this lot, I’s be good ‘nuff for ta job.”

Behind Bear, the trucks immediately began grumbling. 

“Good enough for what? A demolition derby?”

“He’s a brute!”

“We want a real engine! Not some bulldozer with bogies!”

“Oh, now he thinks he’s going to do a good job?”

“I feel like he broke something. I pity his next train!”

Both engines sighed deeply, and the 37 looked relieved. “Actually, I think the rotters are your problem now - take ‘em to someplace where they might be needed, like the scrapheap! Ha!”

He laughed heartily, only stopping when he realized Bear wasn’t laughing along with him. “What?” 

“I don’t get the joke.” 

“You- what?” The engine looked at him. “They’s trucks mate.”

“And?”

“They’s difficult. Jus’ make sure to biff ‘em around a bit.” 

“Why? That won’t make them stop.” 

Bear continued to look like he had no idea what the other diesel was talking about, and the 37 rolled his eyes. “Yannow what? Fine. Keep em’, I don’ care.” And with that, he growled off to the fuel pumps, muttering under his breath about “soft engines that deserved to be withdrawn.” 

The trucks sighed once the other engine had gone away, and Bear found that they gave him no trouble as he left the yard. 

“He was terrible!” One of them shouted as they crossed the bridge onto Sodor proper. 

“Awful!” chimed in another. 

“A right menace!” called a third. 

“We’re glad to be on the island again,” a fourth said. “At least you lot aren’t trying to hurt us!”

“That bad?” Bear asked with a raised eyebrow, mentally making a note of the engine’s number. 

“Worse!” chorused several voices, and The Many Detailed Accounts Of The Awful Class 37 continued all the way to Crovan’s Gate. There, he left most of the train in the goods siding, and went into the works yard to drop off a few trucks, and collect the rest of his train. 

He was expecting to find a few freshly-overhauled trucks, and maybe a coach going back to the big station, so it was a surprise to be sent down a line that led to the work’s small engine shed. 

Where am I going? He thought to himself. Looking towards the main shops building revealed that the same set of green-painted wheels were still propped up against a wall, just like the last time he’d checked them - so it wasn’t the engine he knew was there…

Further confusing the issue was a crowd of people around the turntable - the Fat Controller and his son being among them. “Sir?” he called, unsure of what was going on. “Am I in the wrong place?”

The Fat Controller turned around, not having heard him arrive. “Ah, Bear, exactly the engine I was looking for.” He turned to the other men, most of whom were wearing tweed suits with elbow patches. “As my son was saying, we certainly have enough Western Region equipment to hand! In fact, I dare say that we have more GWR equipment than you do!”

One of the men, who was wearing less tweed than the rest, smiled slightly. “If this all goes well you most definitely will, Charles.”

The other men chuckled to themselves, while Bear looked on in confusion. “Sir? Am I taking an engine with me?”

The Fat Controller’s son, Stephen - who would soon become the new Fat Controller - stepped forward. “Yes, indeed you are. As you may have noticed, the increase in traffic has left the Little Western wanting another engine, and while you have served admirably,” He waved a hand around the facilities. “You are often called away for other duties. So, with that in mind, we’ve managed to temporarily source another engine. If he does well, he will be working the line full-time with Duck and Oliver.”

“Does that mean I’m to be replaced by a steam engine, sir?” Bear asked, suddenly struck by a burst of mirth at the situation. 

The rest of the men laughed much louder than they had before, and the Fat Controller smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, you are.” He said jovially. 

Presently, a steam whistle sounded from inside the shed, and dark green tender emerged from inside one of the bays, wreathed in a cloud of steam. 

---

Arlesburgh

"You'd think the Queen was coming…" Rex murmured to nobody in particular.

"Nah," Bert replied. "He'd be calmer if she was."

The small engines watched the chaos of the standard gauge engines:

Duck was barking orders at workmen like an engine possessed. Everything in sight of the pannier tank engine (including himself) had been cleaned or polished to an almost mirror finish, and it looked like he was on the verge of critiquing the wardrobes of passersby. 

Someone had produced a roll of bunting, and despite its “ruddy anemic flag count”, it was being strung along the handrails of the pedestrian overbridge. 

Across the yard, Oliver and the coaches were red with embarrassment, and looked anywhere but in their friend’s direction as the workmen crawled over them with rags and polish. 

At the coaling stage, a grime-coated Donald glared daggers at several members of staff who were wielding a hose and brushes in a vaguely threatening manner. 

“What are they doing?” Mike asked, watching as Donald’s driver aimed the in-cab hose at the cleaners in retaliation. 

“Search me.” Bert replied. “Duck’s got some bee up his bonnet and is making it everyone else’s problem. Dunno why though.”

“Something about Cornwall, I think he said.” Rex put in. 

“Cornwall?”

“I think. He definitely mentioned Truro.”

“Why would they be spiffing up the place for a city? And why Truro?”

A moment passed.

The three small engines blinked in unison. “Oh no…”

-----

The train swept into the station with far more fanfare than it usually would have. City of Truro took one look at the celebratory atmosphere and sighed good-naturedly. “It would seem that I was anticipated.” 

Bear rolled his eyes at the spectacle and its hasty decorations. A limp bit of bunting drooped from the pedestrian bridge, bobbing up and down in the heat from his exhaust. “You’re lucky we were quick. I think they’d have gotten the brass band in another hour.”

“Hmm.” Truro murmured. The steam engine had been quiet almost the entire journey, quite opposite to the numerous stories that the other engines had told from his previous visit. 

Bear rolled his eyes. This entire journey had been an exercise in being ignored, and at this point he was used to it. Truro, either through tiredness or some late-onset pompousness, had scarcely said one word to him the entire journey, while every engine, coach, and quite a lot of the passengers they’d come across had needed to recover their composure after seeing that City of Truro was coupled behind Bear, at which point they immediately began directing all comments to Truro, and none to Bear. Truro had of course gone from quiet to chatty like flipping a switch, which left the diesel feeling rather put out, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why.

His only real comfort was that Gordon or James probably would have imploded by now, the glory hounds. 

There was a half-strangled peep from the yards, and he could see Duck looking as though he’d just witnessed the reincarnation of Christ. Ah, wonderful. He thought to himself. More well wishers for engines not named Bear. 

About the only thing stopping Duck from making a beeline for the train (aside from his driver) was the signal leading out of the yard, which was set for Donald’s stone train to leave. 

The steam engine did so, slowly, deliberately clanking his way through the station at a snail’s pace, drawing comments from Duck that somehow were both rapturous and ire-laden at the same time. 

“I’d be gettin’ while ye still can.” Donald whispered as he crawled through the station. “Lest you have to participate in this muckle circus too!” 

“You might be right…” Bear trailed off thoughtfully as his driver uncoupled him from Truro. Keeping in character, the “Greatest of all Westerners” didn’t say a word as the links were disconnected, and Bear let his crew drive him into the yard and out of sight, feeling like he was also very much ‘out of mind’. 

-----

Unfortunately, things did not get any better after that. 

Bear wasn’t party to the discussion, (being ignored again, perhaps?) but apparently some men from London had insisted that Truro - a “foreign engine, of unknown mechanical provenance” - required a support engine at all times, in case he were to fail while on a journey. 

Duck had been nearly apoplectic on Truro’s behalf, but the big engine was equally furious. The two of them made such a racket that Bear managed to stay informed on the situation despite being in a different shed, and so he was not surprised when an inspector woke him up in the morning and told him to ride on the tail of Truro’s first commuter train. 

The morning passed in the now usual manner of Truro not even acknowledging that there was another engine on the train, but somehow managing to find the energy to chat with seemingly everyone else. 

Bear was beginning to feel well and truly slighted, and mentioned it to his driver as they pulled out of Haultraugh. 

“To be honest,” his driver said carefully. “He’s probably an introvert.”

“A what?”

“Introvert. It means that he doesn’t like talking to people much, or being in groups.”

Bear made a noise. 

“No, hear me out.” The driver rolled his eyes. “He probably doesn’t like it, but he’s famous enough that he’s got to talk to everyone so he doesn’t come off as a right bellend by not saying anything to them.”

“So he can act like that to me?”

“Have you shown one bit of interest in him as a famous engine?”

“… When you put it that way, no.”

“There you go, then. You haven’t tried being a screaming fan like Duck, so he thinks you’re not interested.” He paused for a moment, thinking something over. “Heck, he’s probably grateful for the peace and quiet, ha!”

With that, Bear felt a bit better about the whole situation. Maybe Truro was just shy, and nobody ever let him have a moment to himself. Maybe, he was just over-reacting. It was the early days of the Christmas rush, after all. Everyone was already busy, so Truro probably had a lot on his mind.

With that matter settled, Bear paid it no mind, and the rest of the morning went very well indeed.

Then came noontime.

-

The mid-day trains were always more crowded than the morning ones, as shoppers flocked to the stores and markets of the big city. Additionally, news of Truro’s arrival had spread by word of mouth, and more than a few people boarded the train just to say that they had rode behind a “famous engine.”

This meant that the train soon gained not one extra coach, but two, now stretching out to five carriages, plus two engines. It was a long and heavy train, and Bear soon found that he was having to help push, especially on the uphill section between Haultraugh and Arlesburgh West. 

This seemed to cause some amount of upset to Truro, whose chuffing got rougher and crosser sounding as they went along the line - although if he was actually upset, he didn’t say it loud enough for Bear to hear.

Oh, Bear thought to himself. I hope he’s not berating himself for getting old or anything. It’s really not his fault; These new coaches just aren’t as light as the ones from his day. 

This continued as they went up and down the line, until eventually, a huge lump of flaming cinders shot out of Truro’s funnel and splashed into a pond along the lineside!

“I hope that was only bad coal…” Bear said as the smoke from the clinker dissipated in the wind. “Otherwise there’s something wrong with Truro.”

He wasn’t the only one who thought that, and at Haultraugh, Truro’s driver stopped the train and began looking the engine over thoroughly. Engine and driver seemed to exchange some harsh words, but they were quiet, and nothing made it down the train. 

“Um, excuse me, Bear?” A voice said from alongside him. It was Isobel, one of Oliver’s autocoaches. “But we need to keep to schedule. Are you going to move?”

“Ah…” Bear suddenly realized the situation he was in: 

With three coaches, he and Truro could very easily fit within the confines of Haultraugh station’s platform. 

With four coaches, each engine would overhang the edges of the platform slightly, but it shouldn't cause an issue for passing trains. 

But with five, the coaches barely fit within the length of the platform, and both engines were well beyond the edge. In fact, they stuck out so far that they were fouling the points controlling the single track line at either end of the station. This meant that Oliver and his train were effectively trapped inside the station until Bear and Truro left. 

And considering how closely Truro’s driver was looking him over, that might take some time…

----

The Fat Controller met the train at the big station. “I will admit, this was not a problem I anticipated.” He began. “But there will be a solution by tomorrow, I assure you.”

“Sir,” a voice began, and it took Bear a long moment to realize that it was Truro - he’d almost forgotten what the engine sounded like. “Could the solution possibly be that I handle this by myself?”

“Unfortunately no,” the Fat Controller said gently. “While nothing that’s happened today is in any way your fault, Truro, it did have the unfortunate effect of proving, ahem, certain people, right. For the moment, you will have to run with another engine, and seeing as how Duck and Oliver are the only engines on the branch who can run with auto-coaches, Bear will have to remain with you.”

Bear couldn’t see, but Truro must have made some kind of face, because then: “And if Bear were to… become unavailable, I would have to substitute in whomever is available, like Delta, or Wendell.”

Bear rolled his eyes. Wendell and Delta were both significantly longer and heavier than he was, and he wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or insulted that this was being used as an incitement to behave. 

--

That night, the evening rush was calm enough that the train was able to go to four coaches, and there were no more issues at Haultraugh, although Bear did notice some inspectors measuring various parts of the station’s infrastructure as night fell. 

Truro continued staying mum, and while it did seem like he was just “an introvert”, something still niggled at the back of Bear’s mind. 

Whatever it was, it stayed there all night, and while Truro joked and laughed with Oliver and Duck well into the early morning, it took Bear a long time to fall asleep. 

---

The next morning, the Fat Controller’s “solution” was simply to put Bear and Truro at the same end of the train. Neither engine seemed to understand how this was any better, but the inspectors assured them. 

“It means we know which end of the train we can dangle off the platform,” said one. “You’re not carrying any passengers.”

“If we time it right, there won’t be any delays.” Said another. “We can have oncoming trains come in a minute earlier or later so the long end doesn’t block them.” 

“We’re doing this so that we don’t have to de-board only the first few carriages.” Said a third. “While still making sure that we have one end of the loop open.”

“This is called a saw-by maneuver.” Said a fourth “We’ll just have to be careful not to schedule any other long trains, lest we have to do a double!”

To put it bluntly, the engines did not understand the men’s reasoning, but indeed, when they reached Haultraugh with their five coach train, Duck was able to depart easily while they waited at the platform. 

“Well,” said Truro to no-one in particular. “I suppose they were right.”

“I worry what would happen if we run against a goods train, though.” Bear said, trying to remember how long the stone trains got. 

“Must you bring such negative twaddle into this?” Truro snapped. “The last thing we need to hear is things such as that from you.”

Bear was speechless, and when the signal dropped a moment later, he was roughly jerked into motion by Truro setting off as quickly as he could. 

--

They arrived at the big station without another word being spoken. As the passengers streamed out, Truro was uncoupled from Bear, and rolled off to the coaling stage. Bear, having a quite large diesel tank, wouldn’t need fuel for a while, and was timetabled to run the next train to Arlesburgh and back by himself. 

This duty (and its sudden lack of City of Truro) pleased him greatly, and he was practically in a good mood as he rolled into Haultraugh. 

“Mummy, where’s the steam engine?” a little boy on the platform asked, loudly, and Bear’s face fell so quickly that it could have qualified for a speed record of its own. 

To make matters worse, Bear hadn’t even pulled into the station yet, and so multiple people on the platform saw this happen. 

And felt sorry for him. 

Bear knew that they felt sorry for him because they came up to him and told him so. 

And then the opposing train was late, which meant that other people, including the child’s mother, thought that he had been so greatly offended that he wasn’t going to leave with the train until they said they were sorry. 

So they came and apologized to him as well. 

“I really am sorry,” Said the mother, after her son had apologized in a way that implied he had no idea that he’d caused offence. “He’s just really excited by-”

“Steam train!” The little boy shouted, as Duck’s train appeared around the bend. 

“Steam trains.” The mother finished, lamely. 

The boy was beside himself as Duck arrived, but his excitement quickly waned as he realized that it wasn’t the “right steam train.” Which of course meant Truro. 

“Oh don’t worry,” Duck said, as the woman gave up on not causing offence, and instead carried her child into the nearest coach. “Everyone has got a favorite.” 

“I can tell.” Bear just about kept a tone from his voice, which immediately proved to be the wrong decision, as it encouraged Duck to keep talking. 

“I mean, we can’t all be the City of Truro, right?” Duck was pushing his coaches from the back, and looked round to see where his favorite-est engine in the whole wide world was. “Where is he, by the way? He at the other end?”

“He needed coal.” Bear was almost surly, not that Duck noticed. 

“Oh! So he’s at the big shed, is he?” Duck looked thrilled. 

“Yes. Perhaps you can run with him for a bit.”

Duck’s eyes lit up just as the signal dropped, and Bear left in a hurry, before he could say anything unkind. 

----

The Big Station

“Do I even want to know?” Stephen asked, looking out of the office windows. There was a crew of men assembling a stage right next to the ticket windows. 

“Blame your sister.” Was all his father said, proving that he had something to do with this. 

“Bridget lives and works in London. How could she have anything to do with this?”

“Bridget,” His father was really trying to pretend like this wasn’t his idea. “Has made many friends in London. Friends in embassies, foreign countries, various charities and businesses… the list truly goes on.”

“And?”

“And,” Oh stop being so coy you infuriating old man. “Some of those people represent organizations that could bring money to the island.”

“Did you involve the tourism council in this?” He involved the island’s tourism council in this. 

“I did.” Oh joy, he admitted it, which means he has another scheme brewing underneath this plan. 

“Which means…?”

“Don’t you want to figure it out for yourself?” 

“No. No I don’t. I cannot think of anything I’d rather do less.” 

“Anything? What about a root canal?”

“They have anesthetic, and talking to you is like extracting teeth. Please don’t make every little detail into a teaching moment, I beg you.”

The twinkle was still there, and Stephen had a brief moment of horror at the idea that someday he would be doing that. 

“Well, if you insist,” His father went on. “The Island Council has been trying to attract foreign investment, and it would seem that they have been having some luck with it, although even I don’t know the full specifics.”

“Dad, is that stage going to be for some American huckster to hawk timeshares-”

“No, no, nothing of the sort!” Charles placated. “The stage is there for musical appearances.”

“What?”

“It’s a hearts and minds campaign. Advertising! But on a much more… subdued and charismatic scale. There won’t be any products, or grandstanding, just soothing Christmas music from around the world.”

Stephen could now (mostly) wrap his head around the idea, and approved of it (for now), but he could still feel one or two shoes getting ready to drop. “And who is going to sing this? The church choir? They can’t get through Good King Wenceslas without drifting several octaves.”

“Oh, good heavens no! That’s where your sister has come in; She knows a good number of foreign relations organizations who help organize things like this. They’ve lined up several bands with the help of their respective embassies.”

Aha, here is the bit that will give him a migraine. “So you’re telling me that we’re going to have a rotating bunch of… well it sounds crass to say it like this, but, foreigners, standing on the station platform, bellowing Christmas songs at our passengers for the next week?”

His father smiled, which was usually a bad sign. “A week? Oh no Stephen, they’re going to be here all month!” 

----

Later, Bear rumbled back into the big station. It had been a veritable cavalcade of small delays that meant he got later and later the further along he got. By the time he arrived, it was almost time to leave on the return journey, and he’d spent so much time idling in stations that his fuel tanks were almost empty. 

Fortunately, the station staff had prepared for this, and he was uncoupled from the train as soon as he arrived. He expected to be pulled out to the sheds, but his driver instead dashed away, mumbling something about the toilets. His second man rolled his eyes, and retired to the station pub for a cup of tea. Now left alone, Bear was very surprised to see BoCo of all engines roll past him with a quiet honk.

Less surprising was the irritated hiss of steam from Truro, who was behind BoCo and facing the wrong direction.    

In just a few short minutes the two engines were coupled to the train, and once the passengers boarded it was off, disappearing into the distance and leaving the station quiet. 

Or, rather it would have been quiet, if there hadn’t been a number of people tuning instruments next to a bandstand that definitely hadn’t been there an hour ago. 

“Who are you people?” He asked, more than slightly confused. There were at least a dozen of them, somehow. 

One of them, who had just finished pinning up a large… American flag? behind him perked up and did a melodramatic bow. “We’re the band!” 

“Band for… what, exactly?” 

“Christmas music!” He exclaimed, just as someone else finished writing on a large signboard. It read: 

TOMMY GERMAN & THE DANKE SCHON-DELLS 

PRESENT

AMERICA’S CHRISTMAS HITS

(sponsored by the US Embassy, London)

This made… well it made no sense, actually, but Bear had no idea of what to do other than to say “Alright.” in as neutral a tone as he could, and wait for his driver to return from the toilets. After it was clear that they didn’t have a receptive audience, the band continued turning their instruments (and goodness there were a lot of them), before deciding “Do we want to rehearse any?”

They did, and soon a woman was stood in front of a microphone, while everyone else picked up instruments that seemed like they’d be of more use to a marching band. 

Bear suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of his fuel tanks. I don’t think this is going to be I Saw Three Ships…

A very loud trumpet chorus reverberated through the station, followed by a much deeper instrument. 

Then… 

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

Only a hippopotamus will do…

“what?”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ryan W. Briggs, Max Marin, and Ellie Rushing at Philadelphia Inquirer:

BETHEL PARK, Pa. — In the sea of caps and gowns, Thomas Matthew Crooks hardly stood out. Few people clapped when his name was called. A YouTube video of his graduation two years ago from Bethel Park High School shows a slender and bespectacled student receiving his diploma with a soft smile. But the class of 2022 awoke Sunday to learn that the 20-year-old Allegheny County man was notorious, the shooter in the assassination attempt on former President Donald Trump during a rally that left an ex-firefighter, Corey Comperatore, dead and two other attendees wounded. U.S. Secret Service counter-snipers killed Crooks moments after he opened fire on the Saturday night rally from a nearby rooftop. The FBI said Sunday they believed he acted alone. He had not been on the bureau’s radar.

Crooks’ actions shocked residents in his hometown, sparked countless conspiracy theories online, and prompted investigators to begin combing through every aspect of his life, looking for motive. The mystery has been fueled by a near-total absence of Crooks’ social media postings, political writings, or other digital fingerprints. Several former classmates appeared on national television Sunday, quickly casting Crooks as a stereotypical loner who was bullied heavily during his time at Bethel Park. One of them, Jason Kohler, told reporters Sunday that students tormented Crooks “almost every day” and that he often wore “hunting” outfits to class. “He was just an outcast,” Kohler said, “and you know how kids are nowadays.” Yet, two former students interviewed by The Inquirer disputed the characterization. They did not recall specific incidents of violence or other antagonism involving their now-infamous classmate in the community they described as generally tight-knit.

[...] The slight traces of public information Crooks left behind leave few clues about his political ideology. Federal campaign finance records show he made a $15 donation to progressive political action committee in 2021 after President Joe Biden’s election, but later registered as a Republican, according to Pennsylvania voter data. His father was a registered Libertarian, his mother a Democrat. Crooks’ body was found on the rooftop of an agricultural tool manufacturing plant a few hundred feet from the rally with an AR-style semiautomatic rifle — legally purchased by his father. The shooter was wearing a T-shirt promoting “The Demolition Ranch,” a YouTube channel for gun enthusiasts. If Crooks maintained any personal social media presence, it went largely undetected on Sunday. Discord, an instant messaging platform mainly used by video gamers, released a statement acknowledging Crooks held a “rarely utilized” account that contained no information relevant to the shooting.

Sigafoos did not recall Crooks making political overtures in class, but rather as someone interested in how government works, and “not trying to insert his own beliefs into it.” Another former classmate did not share this view. Max R. Smith recalled taking an American history course with Crooks as a sophomore. He did recall Crooks making political statements — but they shed no light on his actions Saturday. “He definitely was conservative,” he said. “It makes me wonder why he would carry out an assassination attempt on the conservative candidate.” Smith recalled a mock debate in which their history professor posed government policy questions and asked students to stand on one side of the classroom or the other to signal their support or opposition for a given proposal. “The majority of the class were on the liberal side, but Tom, no matter what, always stood his ground on the conservative side,” Smith said. “That’s still the picture I have of him. Just standing alone on one side while the rest of the class was on the other.”

The gunman who killed rallygoer Corey Comperatore and attempted the assassination of Donald Trump at Saturday night’s Butler, PA rally was not only a registered Republican but also a vehement conservative.

This should hopefully put an end to the right-wing’s nonsensical claim that a “violent leftist”/”Antifa” tried to kill Trump.

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[letiferian]

‘He’s my emergency contact’

Reader x Johnny ‘Soap MacTavish

Word Count: 1.2k words

Based on the TikTok trend

Summary: The 141 team comes over to your house for weekly dinner get-togethers, and Johnny wants to show Simon his newest project, which is… wait for it… -explosives! You and Kyle watch from a safe distance while the two test out homemade explosives made from things you have lying around the house, when you realize that the one out there making the explosives is your emergency contact.

___________________________________________________

It’s Friday night, the night the team gets together after each week and relaxes. After you and Johnny had started dating, he wanted to spend those Friday nights with you and his team, getting the okay to include you even though you’re a civilian. The rest of the 141 had no issue, and you had attended every Friday night get-together since. Once you and Johnny had gotten married and bought a house outside of the suburbs in the (mostly) quiet countryside not too far from the base, Friday night shindigs moved from the pub near the base to your house. It was common for Simon and sometimes Kyle to spend the night after drinking too much, or when it was too late and they were too tired to go home. John always left after dinner, needing to get home, the ‘kids staying up past his bedtime’, he would say, referring to the 4 of you.

Johnny had grilled out, a perfect summer night when it was not too hot, yet warm enough to enjoy the sunshine, not wanting to be pent up inside. The team had just finished eating and Price had just left. All of you were sat at the outdoor patio set, chatting and relaxing after a busy week. Simon and Johnny were chatting away, you and Kyle listening in or having a small conversation on the side, here and there.

“Oh, Simon!” Johnny exclaims, clearly excited to share what is on his mind. “I’ve been testing out new explosives.” That catches your attention, pausing the conversation between you and Kyle, both of you looking over at Johnny. Your brows furrow and you tilt your head ever so slightly. It’s a common occurrence for Johnny to be playing with explosives, seeing that he was a demolitions expert.

Kyle has a curious look, still facing Johnny and Simon, but eyes cutting over at you. You give him a concerned look, knowing full well that Johnny is chaotic by nature, no one ever knowing if he will be chaotic good, chaotic neutral, or heaven forbid, chaotic evil at any given time. Simon gives a usual grunt, signaling Johnny to continue.

“I’ve been working on some explosives using household materials. Y’know, just in case we are in the field and we don’t have our normal stuff, that way I can be well rounded.” You cock an eyebrow at his words, understanding the need for that, but not exactly sure where this is going. Simon grunts again. “I tried some out the other day, one didn’t detonate, the other made one hell of a boom but no real damage, the other I hadn’t yet got to test.” He explains, you and Kyle still a bit confused as to where this story is going, Simon’s face unreadable as always, despite his mask being off since he deems your home a safe place to keep it off, showing his face.

“Wanna test it out? I can go grab it real quick.” Johnny offers Simon, standing up and starting off towards the small shed we have behind the house that he has deemed his ‘workshop’. Truthfully, you don’t go out there much, not knowing what he has in there other than tools and other manly things that don’t strike your fancy. Simon agrees and stands, following Johnny. You exchange as worried look with Kyle, then both stand quickly and jog after Simon and Johnny. Johnny has grabbed a few things already, shoving them in Simon’s arms to hold for him while he grabs some other things- a knife and a lighter from his pocket, a few boxes of who knows what, some electrical and duct tape, a roll of fuse you didn’t even know you owned, and a small duct taped ball shape. The taped up ball object must have been the other explosive he didn’t test out the other night…

Your eyes widen at the scene. “John MacTavish, is this what you were doing on Sunday when I hard a racket and you came back inside covered in soot, convincing me it was ash from a burn pile?!” You ask him, your voice clearly showing the disbelief at what had happened, finally connecting all the dots. He was out in his workshop working on things and you had heard a few booms but hadn’t thought anything about it. Johnny had come back inside a while later, black soot all over him. He was adamant that he was cleaning up a pile of ash from the tree limbs that you had both compiled and burnt, but it didn’t really make sense as to why it was all over him, like it had sprayed him in a cloud like way. You shoo’d him off to the bathroom to clean himself up before getting soot and ash all over your house, not reading too much into the incident.

He gives you a sheepish smile. “Yer a smart one, Hen” adding in a wink at the end, hoping it’ll smooth things over. Your facial expression drops and you let out a sigh. You shake your head at this while Johnny and Simon head out of the shed, towards the open field area towards the back of your property that Johnny had cleared out, near the burn pile he was “cleaning up” the day of the soot incident. Kyle gives you a sympathetic look. “Someone better be there for parental supervision…” he says, waiting for you to walk in front of him towards the direction of Simon and Johnny.

You two stand a safe distance away, watching tweedle dee and tweedle dum work on the ‘home made explosives’ that Johnny was so excited about, tinkering with the boxes of what you assumed was some sort of explosive, the tape, cutting fuse and putting it all together. They work on a few iterations of the explosives, the first one not working how they wanted, the next detonating too quickly after throwing it a safe distance away, exploding before it had landed. Thank god they were both trained professionals, or else you’d be having a heart attack right about now.

You look over at Kyle, who is watching the two with a slight smile on his face, shaking his head at what was playing out before his eyes. “You know what the crazy thing is about this?” you ask him. His small smile turns into a smirk, tearing his eyes away from the two to look at you. “Oh, there’s a few possibilities. What’s the one you’re thinking of?” He asks back playfully.

You know he’s right- there are a few reasons you could consider crazy regarding Simon and Johnny making homemade explosives in your back yard. You look back at them, still working on their ‘new and improved’ version, tinkering with things, one holding the cardboard, the other haphazardly taping it together. “I think the craziest thing about all of this is he is my emergency contact.” You comment, shaking your head at the fact.

Kyle laughs, knowing how right you are. “Yeah, it’s crazy to think that he’s also Simon’s emergency contact…” He says. You sigh, knowing he’s right. You had tried to convince Simon to make someone else his emergency contact, but he was adamant that it was to be his most loyal and best friend, but thankfully you were able to convince him to be his second emergency contact, heaven forbid he and Johnny were both injured. You and Kyle watch the two as they test out the explosives until you have to coax them back inside once it got dark with the promise of chocolate cake and ice cream, Simon’s favorite being ice cream and Johnny’s favorite being chocolate cake. Kyle was just there to make sure they didn’t hurt themselves and for the entertainment, and you were there to be their emergency contact, the only half-way sane one between the trio.