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lizisshortforlizard · 10 months ago

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Living Dangerously - Chapter 35

Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster?

A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs.

But would they die for it?

Jurassic Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)

Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc

Warnings: only mild swears this time (boooo)

Tagging: @heresthefanfiction @ocappreciation @wordspin-shares @howlingmadlady @arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @starryeyes2000 @kmc1989 (please lmk if you would like informed of my sporadic updates)

Read on Ao3

Chapter 34 | Chapter 36

Should I Stay or Should I Go - The Clash

As the skipper steered away from the dock and out into the fog bank that filled the ocean passage between InGen sites, Lori Ruso only managed to keep sight of Muldoon and Armstrong for a few seconds before they disappeared completely.

In less than a minute, there was no sign that Isla Nublar even existed.

A productive site visit indeed.

She hadn’t made the journey with high hopes, but the sombre man and his that’s-not-my-girlfriend-she’s-just-a-colleague had turned out to be decent people. Lori had no interest in screwing them over, and nothing she had told them was a lie, per se…

But Muldoon’s proposal of a meeting couldn’t have come at a better time. The residents of Nublar had no idea that the “site visit” was the perfect cover for something else altogether.

Unbeknownst to John Hammond’s company, Ruso had received a rather intriguing phone call several weeks prior. It was from a man who seemed particularly interested in her position as a disgruntled current employee, and was offering her a lot of money for-

“That’s all? Just information?” Lori had shivered as she remembered how tight of a leash Ingen currently had her on. “You really aren’t asking me to do anything more…invasive?”

“No-” Lewis Dodgson had replied. “-I got another guy for that.”

***

”You’re panicking about Kathy leaving, aren’t you?” Lizzy felt compelled to say so.

”Panicking?” Muldoon turned to make his way back down the dock. “Hardly.”

“The raptors are coming-” Lizzy thought of the Scotswoman, the Kenyan and the Texan holding down Fort Nublar by themselves. It sounded and felt like a terrible joke. “-and you think three of us alone can handle more than one of them? What if they all turn out like…her?”

“I think one of us alone could handle three of them.” He called back to her as she struggled to catch up without slipping. “Though I’d rather it doesn’t come to that.”

“You may have to-“ Lizzy gasped, mock-dramatically. “-recruit!”

“Hope not. I’ve been lucky, the Team I ended up getting.” Muldoon admitted. “Never expected to get along with, let alone actively like any of you.”

He about-turned so abruptly that Lizzy misjudged her steps and had no choice but to collide head on to keep from swerving off the edge of the algae-covered boardwalk. He caught her around the waist as Lizzy huffed in surprise.

Muldoon didn’t even sway at the impact, so familiar with the shape of her. “Especially you…”

Lizzy wondered if he was also still thinking about Lori’s suggestive comment. Or if he was planning on doing anything about it.

”Even Tom?” She asked dazedly, spouting the first unfortunate words that entered her head. She could picture Arnold eye-rolling and dry-heaving if he were to snoop on them now, images blown up fullscreen on his monitors for the entire workforce to see. “Not just a pretty diversion if things go sideways?”

Muldoon looked down at her sternly.

“Don’t say things like that.” Then, somewhat reluctantly: “Yes, even him.”

”Would it kill you to mention it once in a while?” She asked quietly.

He only stared at her, and Lizzy persevered.

“He has a problem with male authority.” She didn’t have the guts to utter the words father figure.

“So; I’d like to point out, do you.”

”You know what I mean.”

She could see it, crystal clear. Muldoon couldn’t, not yet.

Tom’s past life, why he was that way, made Lizzy desperately sad. She’d already found her own mentor, someone to stick the broken pieces back together stronger than before. Tom’s mentor, standing in front of her now, remained unwilling. “He trusts you. Can’t you see he so badly wants your approval?”

“Suppose.” He was turning sullen, approaching blood-from-a-stone territory, and Lizzy backpedaled in a hurry.

“I’m not asking you to call him son, play catch in the yard and take him on fishing trips!”

“I should bloody well hope not!” He looked horrified. “It’s still asking a Hell of a lot, Armstrong.”

“Even if it’s me that‘s asking you?” She looked up from under her eyelashes, in a way she knew he found disarming.

Rico’s accident had put her on edge, worrying about things left unsaid in case the worst should happen.

”Hmm…think about it.” He finally said begrudgingly. “Don’t get your hopes up-“

The radio crackling surprised them both.

“-uldoon?” Muffled, no doubt by the perpetual cigarette. “-rmstrong? Come in, for the love of Christ-“

Arnold.

“We’re here.” Muldoon didn’t hesitate to answer, reflexively dropping his hold on Lizzy in case of prying eyes.

“-ig trouble.” The engineer was hurrying, not waiting to start talking until after he’d pressed the call button. “-uge. They’re maaaaad.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“-need to get back to base…-better hope to God you find Regis before they do.”

“Why?” Muldoon and Lizzy looked sideways at each other. “Who’s they?”

***

”Mr Hammond, I have a, er-“ Regis fumbled nervously with the telephone handset. “-an angry mob situation.”

“Oh, really?” His employer sounded only mildly concerned.

”They know about the deal with that Rico kid.” Ed hissed quietly, trying to remember if he’d locked the office door in his panic. “Operation Backhoe.”

“I am in my car-“ Hammond replied tersely. “-en route to collect my daughter from the airport. This is not a good time, Regis.”

“But-“

“You are public relations. This is your job.”

“These are not the public! These are a bunch of very pissed-off animal hand-…hello? Sir?”

Regis was on his own.

They were drawing closer, he could hear lots of cursing in various different languages, and overriding them, loudest of all, a women’s Scottish brogue.

Oh Christ, no.

Hanmering fists on his door.

“Open up, Ed. We just wanna talk.” Baker’s level voice held a lot more venom than usual.

“Go away!” He yelled back, somewhat childishly.

”Why’d you cover it up, pal?” Armstrong demanded.

Kennedy followed suit. ”Yeah, why’d you lie, brother?”

Regis had a hunch that pal and brother weren’t to be taken as friendly terms. At least his life insurance policy was pretty damn watertight, from the looks of things they’d be paying out soon. Death by misadventure.

His boss had abandoned him, and the only way out was through a crowd of angry colleagues.

You got this, Eddie-boy.

Customer service was his niche. He had faced down plenty of entitled middle-aged women in his career. He could do anything. Time to pacify the brands and pitchforks.

“Okay, folks-“ He spread his hands wide, begging forgiveness as he opened the door. “I can explain.”

***

”Right, let’s make this quick.” Muldoon strode into Regis’ office, with only a cursory nod in Wu’s direction. “Remember, we have a funeral to get to.”

It was in fact a memorial service. The funeral itself had been in Portugal, already missed by several days due to management’s erasure, but the animal handlers decided they wanted to remember Rico in their own way regardless.

Muldoon didn’t agree with funerals. For him, it never make the inevitable goodbye any easier, just prolonged it. And he’d attended far too many in recent years. A stark reminder that he himself was getting on a bit. He had less friends above ground than a decade previous. But his team wanted him there. Lizzy wanted him there. His presence mattered.

That was why this end-of-day “urgent” meeting had wound him up so much. A few more minutes and he was in danger of being late, something he couldn’t stand, not at the best of times. Certainly not now.

“Oh, that’s still going ahead? Uh-“ Regis stammered. “I wasn’t planning on-“

“You’re going.” Muldoon ordered bluntly. “Least you can do. Find a clean shirt and get down to that beach.”

Regis nodded mutely and avoided eye contact.

“This better be good news, Wu.” Muldoon quickly got back to the reason he’d been summoned.

“Seven bouncing baby velociraptors are being delivered to you tomorrow.” Wu announced. Then, somewhat condescendingly: “Congratulations!”

Muldoon could already envision the animal handlers taking the news rather poorly, seeing it as an insult to Esteves’ memory. Stiff upper lip, and carry on. Get back to work.

”Seven?” He frowned. “Were we originally planning on that many?”

”Dr Ruso’s department seems to have had a long overdue stroke of luck.” Wu clarified. “A higher than average number of juveniles survived the last incubation cycle.”

”Out of how many viable embryos?”

Henry Wu cast his eyes to the ground; Muldoon shook his head in exasperation. “You don’t know?”

How many had hatched and suffered before finally succumbing?

“Ruso has the numbers.” Regis waved a hand.

Numbers. Was that all they were reduced to now?

”And another thing, that paddock you’ve had built is far too small for seven juveniles, plus an unexpectedly big one. Is it too late to change the itinerary?” Muldoon criticised, scanning the blueprint on the desk, looking for any labels that indicated a perimeter large enough to house eight (eight?!) adult raptors. “Can’t we move them straight into their permanent enclosure?”

He couldn’t see one. Maybe it was unmarked?

Regis and Wu exchanged a glance.

“That is their, er…permanent residence.”

“You have got to be joking.” Wu looked unhappy, Regis was grinning sheepishly. “That’s a holding pen at best.”

Straight up cruelty at its worst.

InGen hadn’t bothered to consult him. It somehow felt personal, this time. Muldoon wasn’t one to network, ever, but didn’t they know who he was?

He sighed deeply and ordered. “Get me Hammond, now.”

***

Muldoon had seen some remarkable things in his lifetime, but the animal handlers clamouring for Ed Regis’ blood while he wrung his baseball cap in his hands was one of the ugliest.

Baker was telling everyone within earshot he lied, he lied to us over and over.

The handlers began demanding to know what had really happened, Regis had cowered before them, then finally lost his marbles and yelled for quiet.

Why didn’t you tell us?

There followed directly from the mouth of Regis some convoluted; and, Muldoon suspected; untrue in parts, though he couldn’t prove it, tale; about how InGen hadn’t wanted word of the incident getting back to the investors, the paperwork (folks, honest to God, the amount of paperwork, you’ve got no idea) of a foreign worker being injured on a privately-owned island but kicking it- er, passing away on the mainland…

Regis had talked for a long time. Until the anger had subsided and the grief had taken over for his audience. Nobody was level-headed enough to question him further, coming to terms with the notion that whatever he said couldn’t change the cold, hard fact that Rico was dead.

That night had been all sorts of messy, Muldoon recalled. Nobody had really known what to do, himself included. Richardson had vanished, and was no use whatsoever.

Armstrong had been struck practically mute, Baker had a constant stream of tears for hours, soundless crying until raw tracks had been worn into her face. He’d finally convinced her to go to bed for Christ’s sake, pretending to ignore that Kennedy had quietly followed her.

He’d wanted nothing more than to disappear, hide from all of them, even Lizzy, with a bottle of the highest proof he could lay hands on because he couldn’t do this again.

The sports fan would have a tough job getting his respect back, not that he’d had much to begin with.

Especially when he said things like-

”That’s not possible.”

Sensing trouble brewing, Wu had quickly excused himself from the office. Meanwhile, neither Regis nor Muldoon was all that happy about being left alone with the other.

“Why isn’t it possible?” Muldoon ground out.

“Time with the family, I’m afraid. Mr Hammond simply cannot be disturbed this week.” Was the infuriating reply.

Regis was assertive, for once. The lad might be somewhat wary of him, but the trembling of his voice meant that he was clearly more afraid of the park‘s creator.

Although, there was another who was capable of making him sweat bullets…

Muldoon very deliberately reached for his radio and pressed down the call button with a crackle.

“Armstrong?” The ginger head jerked up in alarm, remarkably like a meerkat. “Stop whatever you’re doing and come to Regis’ office.”

”Okay, okay, fine!” Ed looked pained, reaching for the phone. “Please, don’t let her in here.”

His eyes darted to the door, windows, ceiling vent, as if he were afraid of any potential entrance Lizzy might suddenly jack-in-the-box from.

”That’s better. And Regis?” Muldoon waited a few moments until he was certain the US mainland number had been input. “Radio was on the wrong channel. She didn’t hear.”

Ed’s mouth fell open in surprise. But it was too late, the phone was already ringing, and with a click, Hammond’s housekeeper answered.

His mind went blank, his entire vocabulary far out of reach.

“Go on.” Muldoon urged.

Ed considered hanging up before it was too late, then reminded himself that the park warden was actually there in the room with him, and readily had access to a shotgun, and a Lizzy.

So he meekly whispered Mr Hammond please.

“Very good.” Muldoon nodded.

“Hello?” Impatiently. Then irately. ”Hello!”

“H-how are you, John?” Golly, he was sweating in places he didn’t even know he had. “It’s Ed.”

“…who?”

Was he serious?

”Ed R-regis. From Jurassic Park, sir.”

”My grandchildren are here, dear boy.” This time around the moniker didn’t sound quite so sincere. “Twice in one week, Regis? Really? Can’t you handle a bunch of zookeepers?”

”Mr Muldoon wants to speak to you, sir. It’s-“ Ed glanced up. “-quite important.”

The park warden nodded reassuringly again, mouthing very important. He straightened up from leaning on the wall and began to stalk slowly around the back of Regis’s desk. Ed tried to swivel his chair to keep him in view, but quickly ran out of telephone cable.

“I told you how to handle Muldoon.” Hammond was beyond exasperated. “Just keep the bottles stocked and he won’t bother you. Not unlike you’re bothering me now.”

“Uh…” The urge to mutter I’msorrysirwon’thappenagain and slam the phone down before scurrying off to hide was unbearable.

“That’ll be all, Regis.” Came the voice from behind him. “Move.”

***

“That is brilliant.” Lizzy exclaimed.

She found Muldoon’s threat of setting his dog on Regis hilarious.

“He’s scared of me. He’s terrified of you.” He had told the story to cheer her up after the memorial, when the news of seven raptors arriving the very next day was not well received, as he’d expected.

“Move.” She mimicked his stern tone and faintly began to chuckle. The relief and finality that follows the wake began to wash over her. Awkward jokes to break through the gloom.

Lizzy was still hurting, and would be for a long time.

“Drink?” Kathy had brushed her elbow, as she turned to follow the rest of the crowd to higher ground. “Food?”

She’d refused.

“It’s what he would have wanted…” Kathy had murmured softly, trying for humour.

Lizzy just shook her head and her friend gave a sad smile before taking Tom’s outstretched hand and letting him lead her away.

She stayed on the beach long after everyone else had left, sitting cross-legged with her toes buried in the sand, watching the waves roll in and wash back out again until horizon and water were merged, the same exact shade of inky blue.

Goodbye, Rico.

When she’d finally stood up and turned around, Muldoon was just there, still waiting patiently to give her a lift back.

She trudged bare-footed up the beach and slumped into his arms.

“Sorry, love.” He muttered against the top of her head. “I ended up running late.”

Blame Regis.

“At least you made it in the end.” Lizzy said simply, just grateful he’d shown. More effort than some.

Hammond’s absence had not gone unnoticed and would not be forgotten, nor this time forgiven.

On the beach at sunset, Kathy had sang in Portuguese, accompanied by Tom’s guitar, her voice rising like a siren over the soft crashing of the waves. Isaac had stood to give his part of the eulogy, faltered while his shoulders heaved, and Lizzy had gently taken the notes from his hand and read out his words, as well as her own.

She was both sad and grateful to have closure. Mostly, Lizzy just missed him, found it unbearably hard to believe she would never see his face again. Just a kid, someone for whom the awe of dinosaurs had truly never got old, the same childlike wonder on the day of his death as of his arrival to the island.

Gone.

“But I hope your tardiness was worth it.” She shrugged off the last of her remorse, trying to find herself again. “Good news?”

“Not really.” He filled her in.

”Seven?!” She was horrified.

”I, hm-“ He had debated telling her the full story when she was less fraught. No point. “-may have played all my cards in one go.”

”What do you mean?”

“I threatened to leave the park, and go to the press about what’s happening here.” He turned to look at her. “I wasn’t bluffing.”

“You-“ Lizzy shook her head and blinked. “I’m sorry, what?!”

”I think Hammond knew I meant it.”

“Oh.” Lizzy’s expression plummeted. Quickfire shock, worry, then anger. “I didn’t realise that leaving was ever seriously an option for you.”

“I said I felt responsible-“

Lizzy’s stomach dropped from sickening heights.

”Do you, for real?”

Why would he accept any form of blame? Why hadn’t he told her he felt that way?

“Of course not-“ Muldoon replied too quickly. “-we all wish that night had played out differently.”

Lizzy felt his fingers tighten on her hip, and wasn’t sure if she was in the place of a subconscious Scotch glass or the stock of a gun.

“Kinda seems like the sort of thing you should have talked to me about first.”

”Seems like the sort of thing you should trust me to handle.” His hand fell away from her side. “I’ve known Hammond for a very long time. You need to make everything seem like it’s his brilliant idea. He gets the hump if it’s your idea.”

“Uh-huh.”

”I do know what I’m doing.” She was hiding her face, resolutely staring downwards. “Lizzy?”

“Yeah?” She was tired, and it took all the fight she had left to not turn her shoulders and face away from him.

“He compromised. I’m getting weapons that will actually stop a dinosaur in its tracks. About damn time.”

Surely, that would brighten her otherwise terrible, getting-worse-by-the-second day?

“Compromised…” She fixated on the word. “Are telling me you asked for more and didn’t get it?”

Muldoon paused. “The raptors won’t be getting a bigger paddock. Not anytime soon.”

”Well, at least you got what you wanted.” She murmured bitterly. She might need Lori’s help with welfare requirements sooner than expected. “Screw what I want.”

“Listen, I want the best for these animals too.” Enough of the hiding, she would bloody well look at him. “Do you have any idea how concerned I am about integrating twenty-three-oh-eight with the younger ones in such a small space?”

“It’s an ethological nightmare.” Lizzy agreed, her voice flat. “I honestly have no idea how we’ll do it safely. I don’t think we can.”

“Tomorrow’s problem.” He shrugged. “And it will definitely be a problem.”

They both stared out to sea, listening the the water, the seabirds, and the sound of Lizzy’s nostrils flaring as she angrily breathed.

“You could have come with me, you know. Left. Back to Africa.” He said gruffly.

Lizzy blinked. Back? With him? Like…together?

”Oh-…it’s not that simple-“ Her voice was gentler. She reached up and tugged at her own hair in frustration. “I can’t just go. Hammond’s funding the elephant project, back in Namibia.”

Muldoon’s daydream of having Lizzy move in with himself and his daughter was raptured away. He had let himself hope too much.

Her research was in danger of drying up. If dinosaurs existed in captivity who would care about wild elephants when a couple of years down the line they could just make some more?

Extinction was no longer final.

“They really can’t lose that funding.” She explained. “They only get it if I stay here.”

She was thoroughly wrapped up in InGen’s web. A financial decision that had seemed like a godsend at the time but now only made her ties to the company that much harder to sever. Muldoon wondered if her lawyer man had taught her well enough, if she had read her contract in full before she signed the dotted line, or if things were about to get messy indeed.

“Sod it. I bet they’d rather have you than the money.” Tomorrow’s problem. “I know I would.”

“Stop it.” Half-heartedly swatting him away, she was only pretending to be mad, now. “Oh, please. They couldn’t wait to see me out of Africa.”

Peace at last. Muldoon smirked. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

”How many of them have called me, hm?” She demanded. “Or wrote?”

“Well, none. Because you aren’t a soldier gone off to war.”

“Feels like it sometimes.” She reeled off her long list of injuries in her head, not even counting the emotional damage she’d incurred.

And yet, Lizzy wondered, if she was truly free to go, would she really want to leave? She might not be able to return.

No, not yet.

At least, not by myself.

“I can think of at least one person who misses you.” Muldoon added.

”At least one.” She quoted. “Great. That’s…great.”

They stood, watching the stars appear one by one, the odd meteorite whizzing overhead through the clear skies, sauropod lowing and the odd Tyrannosaur rumble echoing over the island.

”But would you go? If you could?” He asked, somewhat awkwardly. “…with me, I mean?”

Lizzy quashed her eyebrow-raise. As if he still doubted her feelings towards him after all this time.

”I would.” A no-brainer really. “Of course I would.”

***

“Weapons, Robert?” The Animal Supervisor sniffed. “Getting rather Lord of the Flies in here, isn’t it?”

The ever-present, ever-demoralising Richardson. Always a joy to be in his presence.

Muldoon recalled a particularly unpleasant conversation with Armstrong’s main antagonist, tacked on at the end of yet another pointless meeting that could have been a memo.

“Isn’t Elizabeth a little above you, education-wise?” Gammon-faced Richardson was belittling as usual. “Remind me, what’s your doctorate in again?”

The portly man really couldn’t resist trying to draw a reaction out of him every chance he got.

“Well, is she beneath me or is she above me, which is it?” Muldoon made the mistake of entertaining his drivel by replying. “Make up your mind.”

“No need to snap, Robert! I’m just saying it's a bad idea to get involved with a woman who has more letters after her name than you.” Richardson preached smugly. “They start having opinions. Thinking for themselves.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Muldoon shrugged. “All I’m hearing is you still can’t control her, and you don’t like it.”

“Neither can you. That one does what she feels like.”

“At least she respects my orders.”

“When it benefits her!” Richardson countered. “She’ll get what she wants and then drop you, mark my words.”

”Then she’s playing a very long game.” He pointed out. “I’m not sure L-…Armstrong has the patience.”

Nor the capacity for such a detailed lie.

“Ask yourself, what does she see in you, apart from the salary and benefits?” The man just wasn’t letting it go. “And more importantly, what do you see in her?”

Sometimes she does seem too good to be true…

Nope, we’re not doing that. Not today.

”None of your business.”

”Go on. There must be a reason, and it can’t possibly be as stereotypically bland as ‘her mind’.” Richardson had noticed his hesitation, and his tone was loaded with disdain. “I genuinely can’t understand why you’re so useless when you’re around her. You let her get away with murder, Robert-“

”I wasn’t paying into my pension-“ He muttered.

”What was that?” Richardson interrupted.

“I wasn’t planning on living long enough to need it.” He said uncomfortably, though he’d gone with something factual. “But my feelings on the matter have recently changed.”

“My God, that’s nauseating. I suppose there’s ways of getting them to be quiet. At least she’s decent-looking, though that won’t last.” Richardson dismissed him.

Muldoon felt his patience running out exponentially. “Watch your-“

“You’d do well to not get caught doing anything…untoward.” He interrupted smugly yet again. “If I catch you I’ll have no choice but to report you to Palo Alto, and Hammond. Something I will take great pleasure in doing.”

“Nothing to catch.” Muldoon grunted.

”Good. Remember; InGen can separate you, quite easily. I hear she’s wanted over on Sorna.”

How was everybody hearing things all the time? Who ran the Nublar gossip column?

Face it, probably Arnold.

“And they’re even stricter about visitors over there.” Richardson prodded further. “Restricted access for conjugal visits.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Muldoon shook his head. “Nobody’s moving to Sorna, and I told you, nothing to catch.”

“At least it’s a warm body.” Richardson hesitated, savouring the moment. “That’s probably good enough for you, given your circumstances.”

Muldoon didn’t have the words or the ability to hold his temper any longer.

He chose to leave the room before he did anything rash. Not that he’d regret it, but because Richardson would likely never recover from what he had in mind.

***

Thanks for reading!

I always choose the chapter titles/songs very carefully. I originally picked Fado Português by Amália Rodrigues, a beautiful sad song which is the one I imagined Kathy sang on the beach, but The Clash seemed more meaningful/ominous from Muldoon’s point of view. “If I go there will be trouble, if I stay there will be double”.

Also I was rewatching Stranger Things S1 while I was editing this. Again.

#jurassic park oc #living dangerously #welcome to jurassic park #oc: dr lizzy armstrong #jurassic park female oc #jurassic park #jurassic park fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #robert muldoon #dr lori ruso #kathy #jurassic park fanfic #jurassic park 1993 #jurassic park fic #jurassic park ocs #robert muldoon x ofc #kathy baker

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Dream SMP Recap (June 24-25/2021) - Cow Quackity / S.U.S. Toll Company

After Quackity turns into a cow and Wilbur eats him on Bad’s chill stream, the two make a hit song together.

Later, George joins in and things become even more chaotic.

The next day, while working on “L’Wallburg” to compete with Bad’s apartment in the same area, Foolish has the idea to join forces with Bad instead of competing all the time. The two get together with Ponk to create their new tollbooth company:

Super Umbrella Scheme

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

BadBoyHalo

Foolish

Captain Puffy

[Foolish’s second VOD was deleted]

---

JUNE 24

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- Ponk, dressed up as Robin, notices Sam AFK by the bank. They try to get some Pillagers to attack Sam, but it doesn’t work

- Instead, Ponk pushes Sam into the spider spawner, then releases the spiders and watches Sam get eaten alive

- With Sam dead, Ponk puts his things in a chest and takes the Netherite set, leaving everything else. He goes to hide it

- Later, Ponk meets Foolish at the Community House as Robin and Batman. They go down into the basement to discuss. They may need new identities. Their crime-fighting days are over

- Ponk tells him that they are going to be Sherlock Holmes and Watson. That’s the extent of the report, so the two of them part ways

- Back at the valley, Ponk puts up a giant Foolsamponk picture and a photo of a rice cooker

- Bad and Wilbur log on. Bad notices a new structure built where the L’Sandburg tollgate used to be and wonders who’s behind it. Bad has been building up L’Sandburg’s walls in the meantime

- As Bad searches around for Wilbur in Las Nevadas, Quackity joins VC and gets a cow as a stand-in. Bad spots Wilbur nearby

- Bad tells Wilbur that the cow is Quackity and puts a leash on him, explaining that a witch turned him into one similar to how George was turned into a pig

- Wilbur asks where he can find food around here, and Bad tells him he can kill the cows in the pen. Bad tries to explain to Quackity how he is a cow. Wilbur asks Bad to tell Quackity that Wilbur wants to eat him

- Wilbur sets Quackity on fire, but Bad puts him out with water. Wilbur says Quackity looks tasty. Bad throws him bread and steak, but Wilbur refuses

Wilbur: not as succulent as him

- Bad leads Quackity over to the Eiffel Tower away from Wilbur. Wilbur opens Bad’s stream to find them

- Wilbur joins VC and Quackity asks if it’s true that Wilbur wants to eat him. They start discussing lactose intolerance

- Wilbur sets off TNT, then lights cow Quackity on fire. Bad is unable to save him and the Quackity cow drops a piece of steak. Wilbur asks for the meat

- Meanwhile, Quackity as a human has come over to Las Nevadas. They set off more TNT

- Wilbur holds a piece of steak and munches on it, telling Quackity that it’s his meat. Quackity asks how he tastes and Wilbur begins describing it in great detail

- Quackity asks him to describe the texture and Wilbur does, again, in great detail. (I'm not going to transcribe this)

- Wilbur then walks over to DogChamp, saying he would kill the dog for another bite. They quickly stop him. Wilbur tells Bad to get him more Quackity meat. He then turns to Quackity and tells him to turn into a cow so that Wilbur can cook him up and eat his meat

- Quackity goes over to the cow pen to be with the other cows so that he can become one and starts mooing

- Wilbur kills another cow. Quackity has taken off his clothes and continues mooing

- Wilbur takes the initiative to end the bit

- They swim over to Eret’s pyramid with Wilbur repeating everything Quackity says in an American accent. They discuss what animal Wilbur would be. Perhaps a sheep. Bad finds a cod in the ocean and decides on that

- They go up to Ponk’s base and look at the photos. They notice that Sam is crossed out in one of them but don’t know why

Quackity: “Do you wanna have sex in this room?”

- Bad goes to tell him “language” and Quackity scolds him for walking in on them. Wilbur considers it, then mines the floor out from under Quackity, who falls to his death

Quackity: “Is that a yes?”

Wilbur: “I like a man who can take kinetic energy.”

- Bad gets a crossbow. Quackity has an announcement: the wine stream is still happening!

- Quackity gets back to the pyramid and falls to his death again. While they retrieve his items, they chat about fan interactions

- Quackity wants to adopt the dog that played Beethoven in the Beethoven movie and Wilbur breaks the news to him that the dog is probably dead. Quackity doesn’t want Tom Arnold on a leash, and they find out that during the filming the filmmakers apparently used a “mechanical dog-dog suit”

- Wilbur explores the Beethoven fandom Wiki

- They talk about music they’ve been working on. Bad says if Quackity keeps swearing, he will “break out the hammer”

- Quackity shows his recent project. Wilbur says it’s “bloody-muffin-fucking great”

- Wilbur and Quackity work on the song together. The sound is...beyond words

- When they are finished, Quackity says that he thinks Wilbur is giving him too much credit, and he should instead be on the feature list. He wants Wilbur to have this song

- Wilbur declines, saying he would be honored if Quackity didn’t put Wilbur’s name on the song

- Quackity thinks Wilbur should feature it as a Lovejoy song. Wilbur has joined a new band to release the song called “Placeholder,” after which he will immediately disband the band

- Quackity tells him that the song is Wilbur’s baby and he really wants Wilbur to have it. Wilbur tells Quackity that he loves him and that Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he would die for Wilbur, and that Wilbur should have the song

- Wilbur says he will name his firstborn "Quackity,” and he thinks Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he will name all his future family members “Wilbur Soot” (pronounced ‘suit’)

- Wilbur then says he will kill endangered animals for Quackity

Bad: “That’s not something you should do!”

Wilbur: “I will do it for love.”

- Bad asks if he can have the song. Quackity doesn’t say his next bit aloud

- Wilbur understands that Quackity would do that, but he would physically drown for Quackity to have the song

- Quackity says that he will get an astrophysics license, fly a rocket into the moon to get in a national story so that when they find the notepad on his phone, Quackity’s one will would be for Wilbur to have the song and release it under his name without any credit to Quackity

- Wilbur understands this, but says that he would invent a Doomsday device the likes of which the world has never seen and will never see again with which he would hold the world hostage with one message: to tell the world that this song is written solely by Quackity

Wilbur: “That’s what I’d do for you.”

Quackity: “...Okay!”

Wilbur: “Cool, alright, now we’re settled. Hey, Bad, how’re you doing man.”

Bad: “Hi! I’m so perplexed.”

Wilbur: “I’ve got a Doomsday device to make.”

- Bad befriends a pig and names it George. He leads the pig and the red sheep away from Las Nevadas. They continue chatting for a while at the Punzo Chunk

- Later on, George, “master of lore,” joins in

- Bad shows them the heads he got from DreamXD and offers to trade Karl’s to get Ant’s, Sam’s and Puffy’s from Foolish. Wilbur asks how one gets heads, and Bad tells the story of DreamXD logging on

- Bad gives George his own head and George logs off. Bad offers Karl’s head and George returns, so Bad kills him and gets his head back. George drops a stack of nametags, a stack of TNT and a stack of levers

- Bad repeatedly murders George and sees a squid that flies

- George chases after Quackity trying to kill him with a bone. Quackity runs, setting everything on fire behind him. Bad follows and tries to put everything out. George eventually kills Quackity, then Bad kills George

- Bad accuses George of abusing his op powers to get Netherite armor as George chases him down

- Wilbur sings the Drake and Josh theme song in an American accent while George attempts to murder Bad in a pit

- George accuses Bad of turning the server off, but Bad says it’s a scheduled restart

- George kicks them from the server and un-whitelists them both

- Quackity gets back on and slays George

- The three of them continue to spar some more for fun

---

JUNE 25

---

- While Foolish works on building a room by the Punzo Chunk to compete with Bad’s, Bad logs on and drops by

- Bad tells him he’s building in Bad’s apartment. Foolish tells him he’s just making L’Wallburg

- Bad says he will charge Foolish rent to live here, but Foolish declines

- They argue back and forth about whose place it is as they work on the walls

- Foolish has the idea to join forces

Foolish: Bad what if we are landlords together

Bad: o_o

Foolish: we have been fighting for afar too long

Foolish: What if we put are talkents togerth

Bad: o_o

- Bad says he’s charging rent. Foolish asks what if he charges Bad rent. They argue about charging rent on each other

- Bad charges Foolish 850 diamonds. Foolish tells him that Bad has been on his property for five minutes, which means he must pay 9,000 diamonds

- Again, Foolish suggests they instead work together. Bad brings up the idea of taking over a central location like the community Nether portal that they can charge people for. Foolish likes the idea

- They work on the apartment some more and start bickering over who’s caused more problems in their rivalry. Foolish attempts to explain it metaphorically

Foolish: “There was once a shiny rock, okay? And this shiny rock was just trying to go to the ocean and have a good time and lay there in peace. But then, this crusty old seaweed came along to the seashore and just got up all in the shiny rock’s business. And then the shiny rock became a little more dull with the weight of death looming, Bad.”

- Bad takes offense to this and also claims that he made Foolish’s build much better by adding a tollgate to it

- They negotiate percentages of the profits and head off to the Nether portal. Foolish asks if Bad has a suit. Bad replies that not only does he look very dashing already, but the last time he wore a suit, he tried to kill a lot of people

- Foolish suggests they call it the Ratgate. They wall off the portal

- While visiting the summer home, Foolish finds out about the new building on the path. The two suspect a third party may be at play

- Foolish tells Bad about how they have a tollgate set up in Las Nevadas. Bad is offended that Foolish made him take down his tollgate but set one up elsewhere. They start arguing again over who had rightful claim to the path

- They admire their work on the new tollbooth. If people don’t pay the toll, they die

- They rehearse it. Foolish switches personas and becomes a L’manburg Llama who asks Bad where L’manburg is -- he heard they needed his help a few months ago

- Foolish critiques Bad’s performance, as Bad didn’t ask for the toll. Bad said he still got something out of it -- a nice compliment

- They rehearse it a second time, this time with Foolish as Palpatine. It ends with Bad attempting to kill him

- As they discuss how the second rehearsal went, Ponk logs on and walks through the portal while they’re distracted

- They go through after him to seek him down. If they let him get away, they would be the laughing stock of the tolling community. Foolish wonders if they’re dealing with Ponk or Robin

- They find her at the summer home. Ponk runs into his shack and they knock on the door

- Ponk comes out of the shack and they tell him that they’re vacuum salesmen. Once inside the shack, they confront him about the toll

- Ponk doesn’t buy their claims and they go back to the tollbooth. They tell them to pay with compliments

- Ponk retrieves a book from his Ender Chest and goes up one of the tollbooth towers to place a piece of TNT. He tells them that he has claimed the tower

- Ponk starts running, placing TNT all over while the two chase after to attack

- After “the Battle of the Nether Portal” subsides, Ponk gives them the compliments

Ponk: “Bad, is your nickname ‘Google?’ Because you’re all I’m searching for.”

...

Ponk: “Did you get your suit at Dollar General, Foolish?”

- Because Foolish takes some offense to this, Ponk throws him some Netherite ingots. Bad wants that compliment

- Ponk and Bad go up into Ponk’s tower to whisper amongst themselves. Ponk is going to record this and use it as part of the lore suit against Bad. Bad already has ten lawyers

- They go back down and Ponk tells Foolish that Bad said the toll doesn’t have to be paid. Bad is confused, and Foolish pulls Bad aside for a meeting behind a wall of TNT to whisper amongst themselves

- Foolish points out that they could use a third person for the tolling business, and Ponk’s the most trustworthy person Foolish knows

- They go back to Ponk with the business proposal. Foolish says if Ponk makes enough money, they’ll give Ponk a Supreme car at the end of the year

- Ponk becomes sad at this, because Bad destroyed the Supreme Fridge and that’s why Ponk is suing him and Puffy

- Bad says that Foolish allowed them to demolish it. Foolish quickly denies this, but Bad claims he has a written document signed by Foolish. Upset, Ponk asks if this is true. Bad says Puffy has it

- Ponk isn’t sure who to believe anymore

- After they spot Bad lurking beneath the rainbow, they hold him at knifepoint asking for his pot of gold

- Foolish suggests the three of them forget everything that’s happened and just run their tollbooth together. Ponk proposes they tear down Bad’s house instead

- As they explain a potential plot to toll everyone further, though, Ponk starts to come around to the idea. Foolish wonders if they should toll the prison. Bad says they should toll everything

- The next place they decide to toll is the Community House, and they start setting up gateways there. Foolish asks Bad who he would hypothetically be in an alternate Batman universe. Bad would be Alfred

- They decide on a name for their tollbooth company:

“Super Umbrella Scheme,” or S.U.S.

- They do another rehearsal at the Community House gate. It goes very well

- They go to the spider spawner. Bad has to leave, and Ponk speaks with Foolish one-on-one, leading him down the tunnel to the Eggpire cloak room to search through the chests. Foolish hesitantly peeks around the corner into the Egg Room...

- Ponk tells him they’ve got their next disguises as Watson and Holmes. Sam has mentioned that he’s missing a sword and wants to hire them to find it

- With that said, they say their goodbyes and leave

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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aseasonwithclarasblog · 3 years ago

Text

#2398462 Receives a Name

Hey everyone welcome to my first post of writing. Meet my first oc (on tumblr) his name is Jack :) He may kinda be broken now but please stick around for the ride, I want to do so much more with him and all of the other characters that were briefly mentioned. He won’t be broken for long This is for sure an introductory to a bunch of important characters, but probably won’t be to important to the series. I know this isn’t my best writing (it’s the middle of the night but I had inspiration) Please give me feedback if you feel inclined too. Or give me some questions or prompt ideas, I will need a lot of inspiration to keep this going! (thanks for reading onto the story)

Day 1 and 2 of Jack’s Captivity.

tw: whipping, reference to past training, emotional whump, collars, leash, threats, (this really isn’t all that bad in the whump community)

~ Jack Masterlist ~

~~~~~~~~~~

Killed if you do. Killed if you don’t.

That’s all he had picked up from his training, which had lasted a torturous four months. He knew that because he kept track of the weeks in his cell.

Though maybe killed is the wrong word. Tortured if you do. Tortured if you don’t.

It had been four months since he had seen the sun. And when Trainer Garrison had pulled him out of his cell this morning and started having people bidding on him in a room he thought he’d have the chance to see it again. But now he was being yanked by a leash in the middle of the night, shoved in the back of a car with only one word from his owner. ‘Quiet.’

He didn’t look out the windows, though he wanted to deep down. Instead, doing as he had been told. Sitting criss-cross on the leather seat, being absolutely silent.

“Is 2398462 ready?” The head trainer Randy asked. Looking from his clipboard to the teenage boy standing by himself.

“Of course he’s ready.” Trainer Garrison laughed harshly. “I trained him.”

“Full of yourself aren’t ya.” He rolled his eyes. “Come here 2398462.” His eyes caught his before he walked over slowly. Randy looked him over. “Good…” He slapped his cheek sharply, and the teen only had the smallest intake of breath before he held up his hands to be tied. “Mmmhm.” He chuckled before finding some rope, tying them in a quick motion.

Garrison chuckled while going over to a table and grabbing a whip and using it. He relished the sound of the crack it made as it came down on his back. Though Randy was listening to a different type of crack. The one when his knees hit the wooden floor.

They both heard the way he whispered, please.

Randy took the whip from Garrison, tossing it between his hands with a small smile as he looked down at their test subject. “Well this should be fun.”

“I told you. He loves pain.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Did he love it? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember anything.

He only realized the car had come to a stop when the door opened and he was yanked out by the leash and collar on his neck, taken up the steps to a huge house.

His new owner and her chauffeur were talking but he wasn’t listening. Though his eyes began to wander, looking up at the large dark blue door made of wood. It was opened and he stared at the inside, his jaw falling open the slightest bit as he stared. Looking back and forth with his eyes, not turning his head.

His eyes shifted from the grand furniture to the woman holding his leash. She was older, maybe in her late fifties. A bit of grayness to her hair which was in a tight bun. “Arnold. What’s his name again?”

“2398462 Mrs. Hollingsworth.” The chauffeur, with her purse, walked behind her. The boy straightened a little at the sound of his numbers.

“What type of a name is that?” She grunted while yanking him, making him hurry his steps. “Well, Lillian can change it how she likes.”

“You’re giving her to Lilly?” He asked, setting her purse on the table where she liked it.

“Lillian.” She pursed her lips in annoyance. “And why not? She’s MY grandchild.”

He only shrugged in response, as he always did when he knew better to keep his mouth shut.

She took him to a room and took the leash off his collar. “Stay.” Leaving him inside while slamming the door shut behind her. He opened his mouth before shutting it. He stood still, facing the door for hours before sitting down in the pitch black room he refused to explore. His legs ached to be given some mercy. And he didn’t hear anyone any longer. No one was awake.

~~~~~~~~~~

Early in the morning, he heard sounds throughout the house. Staying until the door was opened by another woman, much younger. “Mother, I swear to god! Did you buy another one!” She yelled while walking away. He frowned a little while looking down. Hearing arguments and yelling.

It was because of him.

When he heard a creak behind him he jumped. Looking up at a girl about his age, though she had a couple of years on him. Her hair was black and long which contrasted to her white nightgown. She went up to him as he pushed himself backwards. Going until he had shoved himself down into the corner of the room looking like a scared animal.

She grabbed the first thing she saw which was a book on her dresser, throwing it at his head. She frowned when his emotions started slipping away. Looking numb. “Get out.” He slowly looked up at her as she hit him with another book. “Get out I said!” He looked at the door before faintly shaking his head.

Hurt if you do. Hurt if you don’t.

Hurt if he stayed. Hurt if he left.

“M-Ma’am s-sai.. said n-not to-t-too.”

“S-s-s-said n-not t-t-too.” She mocked, mimicking his stutter. “I told you to get out!” She screamed.

He flinched before pushing himself off the wall and nearly running out of the room. Seeing the two women coming over. They looked like twins beside the age difference, shown through the small wrinkles forming on the older’s face. He glanced back at the daughter who was going over to the younger of the two. “Mom, someone left trash in my room.”

Three generations of women. There was sure to be a disagreement.

“Oh, dear… I put him in the wrong room, didn’t I.” Mrs. Hollingsworth sighed. “Which is Lily’s room?”

The younger frowned. “You are not putting a pet in her room-”

“Yes, I am.” She rolled her eyes. “Your daughter is depressed and she needs a companion.”

“Yes. A friend. Maybe a good sister, Victoria.” The mother shot a look at her older girl who looked indifferent. “But not a pet. They’re pathetic and break so easily.”

“He’s a pain pet. He is made for not being cared for. He’ll be fine.” Mrs. Hollingsworth sighed heavily.

She hummed before nodding. “Fine then.” She sighed. “What’s his name?”

She shrugged. “23 something something 2.”

“So precise mother.” She sighed before going over and looking at his collar. “23984-”

“Is his name all numbers?”

“Victoria .” Her grandmother chided.

He started zoning out after that until he noticed they were all looking at him. Having no idea what they wanted from him before Victoria sighed and dragged him off to a room.

He was pushed inside before blinking. The room was painted a soft pink, and it looked like it was straight out of a storybook. A young girl quietly played with her dollhouse before seeing them and dropping the toys. “Mama?”

“It’s ok sweetie.” She went over and kissed her head. “We have a new friend for you.”

She looked up at him. “H-hi?” All of them were in an odd silence before she continued. “Um… what’s your name?”

An order. Easy enough.

“2398462.” He said automatically, looking straight at her.

Though she frowned. Looking scared. “Mama…”

Victoria lightly poked his back until he was pushing back against the hand which was hurting him. Only knowing he was supposed to make the pain worse. “Why don’t you name him?” Her sister said cheerily.

She looked at him for a long time. “Wanna be my friend… Jack?”

He blinked, looking at the girl’s mother before looking down at Lily. “Say yes and get down on the ground to play dolls with her.” Victoria hissed in his ear.

He nodded a bit, a wash of fear going through him. Getting on the ground and nodding.

Lily smiled a bit before holding a doll out to him. “You can be Jill.”

“Jack and Jill?” Victoria chuckled. “Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown-”

“Victoria.” Lily pouted. “Noooo!”

She laughed. “Alright mom. We should let the two play.” She simply nodded before leaving. Closing the door on them.

Lily smiled a little. “You’ve played with dolls before, right?”

He tilted his head before shaking it a little.

She tilted her head with him before nodding, smiling. “Oh ok. I’ll teach you it ain’t hard.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Written on June 1st, 2021

Next // ~ Jack Masterlist ~

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whumpingwithclara-alt · 4 years ago

Text

He Needed a Real Name

Day 1 and 2 of Jack's Captivity

I know this isn't my best writing (it's the middle of the night but I had inspiration) Please give me feedback if you feel inclined too. Or give me some questions or prompt ideas, I will need a lot of inspiration to keep this going! (thanks for reading onto the story)

tw: whipping, reference to past training, emotional whump, collars, leash, threats, (this really isn't all that bad in the whump community)

~ Jack Masterlist ~

Killed if you do. Killed if you don’t.

That’s all he had picked up from his training, which had lasted a torturous four months. He knew that because he kept track of the weeks in his cell.

Though maybe killed is the wrong word. Tortured if you do. Tortured if you don’t.

He didn’t look out the windows, though he wanted to deep down. Instead, doing as he had been told. Sitting criss-cross on the leather seat, being absolutely silent.

“Is 2398462 ready?” The head trainer Randy asked. Looking from his clipboard to the teenage boy standing by himself.

“Of course he’s ready.” Trainer Garrison laughed harshly. “I trained him.”

“Full of yourself aren’t ya.” He rolled his eyes. “Come here 2398462.” His eyes caught his before he walked over slowly. Randy looked him over. “Good...” He slapped his cheek sharply, and the teen only had the smallest intake of breath before he held up his hands to be tied. “Mmmhm.” He chuckled before finding some rope, tying them in a quick motion.

They both heard the way he whispered, please.

Randy took the whip from Garrison, tossing it between his hands with a small smile as he looked down at their test subject. “Well this should be fun.”

“I told you. He loves pain.”

★★★

Did he love it? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember anything.

He only realized the car had come to a stop when the door opened and he was yanked out by the leash and collar on his neck, taken up the steps to a huge house.

“2398462 Mrs. Hollingsworth.” The chauffeur, with her purse, walked behind her. The boy straightened a little at the sound of his numbers.

“What type of a name is that?” She grunted while yanking him, making him hurry his steps. “Well, Lillian can change it how she likes.”

“You’re giving her to Lilly?” He asked, setting her purse on the table where she liked it.

“Lillian.” She pursed her lips in annoyance. “And why not? She’s MY grandchild.”

He only shrugged in response, as he always did when he knew better to keep his mouth shut.

★★★

It was because of him.

Hurt if you do. Hurt if you don’t.

Hurt if he stayed. Hurt if he left.

“M-Ma’am s-sai.. said n-not to-t-too.”

“S-s-s-said n-not t-t-too.” She mocked, mimicking his stutter. “I told you to get out!” She screamed.

Three generations of women. There was sure to be a disagreement.

“Oh, dear… I put him in the wrong room, didn't I.” Mrs. Hollingsworth sighed. “Which is Lily’s room?”

The younger frowned. “You are not putting a pet in her room-”

“Yes, I am.” She rolled her eyes. “Your daughter is depressed and she needs a companion.”

“Yes. A friend. Maybe a good sister, Victoria.” The mother shot a look at her older girl who looked indifferent. “But not a pet. They’re pathetic and break so easily.”

“He’s a pain pet. He is made for not being cared for. He’ll be fine.” Mrs. Hollingsworth sighed heavily.

She hummed before nodding. “Fine then.” She sighed. “What’s his name?”

She shrugged. “23 something something 2.”

“So precise mother.” She sighed before going over and looking at his collar. “23984-”

“Is his name all numbers?”

“Victoria .” Her grandmother chided.

He started zoning out after that until he noticed they were all looking at him. Having no idea what they wanted from him before Victoria sighed and dragged him off to a room.

“It’s ok sweetie.” She went over and kissed her head. “We have a new friend for you.”

She looked up at him. “H-hi?” All of them were in an odd silence before she continued. “Um… what’s your name?”

An order. Easy enough.

“2398462.” He said automatically, looking straight at her.

Though she frowned. Looking scared. “Mama…”

She looked at him for a long time. “Wanna be my friend... Jack?”

He blinked, looking at the girl’s mother before looking down at Lily. “Say yes and get down on the ground to play dolls with her.” Victoria hissed in his ear.

He nodded a bit, a wash of fear going through him. Getting on the ground and nodding.

Lily smiled a bit before holding a doll out to him. “You can be Jill.”

“Jack and Jill?” Victoria chuckled. “Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown-”

“Victoria.” Lily pouted. “Noooo!”

She laughed. “Alright mom. We should let the two play.” She simply nodded before leaving. Closing the door on them.

Lily smiled a little. “You’ve played with dolls before, right?”

He tilted his head before shaking it a little.

She tilted her head with him before nodding, smiling. “Oh ok. I’ll teach you it ain’t hard.”

Next // ~ Jack Masterlist ~

#first writing post yayyy!#Thanks for reading you are now my friend #Mrs. Hollingsworth #Lily #His name is now Jack #tw: whipping #tw: reference to past trauma #also forgot the others...#Arnold the Chauffeur #Trainer Garison #Trainer Randy #Victoria #Jack hates his voice #Lily is a doll

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iamwhelmed · 4 years ago

Note

Thank you for the post about Helga and Curly from Hey Arnold, I loved it and found it adorable. Do you have any more thoughts on them or Hey Arnold in general? Or fic?

Haha, I was going to write this big adventure fic about their Senior Summer Bash, assuming The Jungle Movie never happened-- and I still might! It would certainly include a lot of Curly understanding Helga and translating a lot of things for Arnold, and it would be endgame Helga x Arnold and Curly x Rhonda.

As for other thoughts of their friendship following the post you're talking about:

Arnold's approach to Helga is the first time anybody has ever scored above a 4-- Arnold scored an 8, because while he wasn't as theatric or over-the-moon romantic in the way Curly would be, but he was genuine in a way nobody else was, and the things he said spoke levels of his devotion. So yes, Arnold is the only person to ever score above a 4 on a confession to Helga.

Phoebe walks around like she has bodyguards, with an intimidating, overly-attractive, ready-to-fight-on-a-moment's-notice Helga and Curly. The reality is that Phoebe is walking around with two hyperactive German Shepards on a very thin leash, and if she looks away for a moment, she will find them getting into all sorts of trouble.

Curly is still very much in love with Rhonda, to Helga's exasperation. But, Helga does have to appreciate that, when Rhonda is around, she has to work less to keep the heart-eyed hands off Curly, because Rhonda can and will throw hands at HER. PROPERTY. Helga kinda has an appreciation for her, knows exactly where she's coming from. That's why she doesn't try to discourage Curly's affections-- because yeah, she knows there's something there, whether Rhonda is ready to recognize it or not.

Curly DOES have a perverted streak. He's not serious, but he will suggest things that Helga will punch him for and Phoebe will glare at him for: "We don't really need two beds, right?" After Arnold confesses, he tries to subtly put Curly in his place, but Curly does it more to upset him than anything. Curly won't try that with Gerald, though, Gerald scares him a little.

#shortaki #curly gammelthorp #helga pataki #arnold shortman #phoebe heyerdahl #rhonda wellington loyd #gerald johanssen #hey arnold

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deadinsidedressage · 6 years ago

Note

do you think that ppl should not be ''taught'' to be scared of stallions? Sure you can't just think that they are like geldings and easy to train. Finnhorse breed for example is starting to little by little having more incest in it since there is not enough stallions and because ppl are taught that even slightest move means they are going to kill you, who would wanna buy a stallion. Then there is everything else like going through fences but those things should be ''easy'' to fix with training.

The sentiment that stallions are entirely dangerous and wildly different from geldings or mares is a fairly uniquely American sentiment. In Europe, you have children showing stallions and it’s a non-issue. (I say this is uniquely American based on the anecdotal evidence of any time in the past this notion running around on here has been met with a lot of Europeans being confused we treat stallions differently).

To relate this entirely not to horses but to something else I’ve researched a lot:

I think a lot of the misconceptions about stallion aggression stems from the same place as misconceptions about “roid rage”. The way the media portrays anabolic steroid use is in a way that suggests anyone and everyone who takes it is transformed into some Mr. Hyde freak-beast who can’t control their temper and breaks everything. Unfortunately that excuse has also been used in criminal defense of athletes who murdered people instead of addressing the fact that in autopsies it’s been proven these people had repeated brain trauma that would’ve mad them more aggressive, more depressive, and more impulsive. The reality is less than 2% of steroid users (and studies are showing that’s a 2% that either has brain trauma or history of mental illness) are impacted by a massive increase in aggressive behaviors or reactions; so while there are some people who go Dr. Jekyll /Mr. Hyde when they’re on or off cycle— that’s untrue of the overwhelming majority.

I’d wager the same is true of stallions or any domesticated animal we as humans have chosen to keep. Some stallions do exhibit hyper-aggression or hyper-reactiveness as a result of remaining intact. Just like some dogs do as well. Or cats who are intact. Let’s face it— if it was just the presence of testosterone that overwhelmingly created aggression in a population of animals; then wouldn’t every single human man with sex hormones (self-produced or store-bought) be extremely aggressive? Wouldn’t we want to “geld” every man for the safety of society? Wouldn’t it also stand to reason that Mr. Olympia competitors/winners like Kai Greene, Ronnie Coleman, Jay Cutler, or Dorian Yates would inevitably be uncontrollable monsters as a result of the amount of anabolic steroids they take? You’d think so, but all these men are regarded for being extremely soft-spoken in interviews, extremely intelligent in the way they present themselves, and overall not aggressive assholes. In fact, if it were steroids that automatically created aggressive monsters... it would be Arnold Schawrzenegger with an infamous history as a domestic abuser and not Sean Penn? Not that Arnie is a perfect beacon of human decency, but the former 7-time Mr. Olympia isn’t know for aggressive or abusive antics. Sean Penn is and Sean Penn isn’t someone with a verifiable history of steroid use.

The fact of the matter is that testosterone alone doesn’t create aggression. Will I acquiesce that there are certainly outliers? Yes. However, it’s more of an issue of how we’re interacting with them. Have you ever heard the old timer wisdom of “never let a big horse know it’s big”? The idea there is that by never allowing a horse who could easily physically overpower you know that that’s the case; it’s a non-issue. If you never give the horse an interaction where it learns that it has a size advantage to get its way, then you don’t have a horse who uses its size for intimidation. Well, same can be said for handling stallions.

If you interact with a stallion in a way that’s fundamentally different because you have any fear that it’ll act different because it’s a stallion… You’ll get a horse who acts different because it’s a stallion. This isn’t some “dominance theory” nonsense where you can’t “show fear” or the horse “wins”— this is more a case of conditioning. Again, using the big horse as an example; the “big horse who knows he’s big” doesn’t use his size to his advantage because he’s the “alpha” but he uses it because he understands a basic cause and effect: “If I stretch my neck high and act big people are too afraid to make me do something I’d rather not do.” Same can be said of a lot of stallion behavior. If a stallion learns that people will back off because he acts like a “stallion”, he’ll act like a “stallion”.So, do I think people should be taught not to treat stallions differently? Yes, absolutely. Stallions aren’t evil death machines.Stallions aren’t inherently different on some incomprehensible level, but stallion ownership is like owning an intact dog--- you have to be a lot more responsible than the average owner. Someone with an intact dog shouldn’t be allowing their dog off-leash. Someone with a stallion has to be more aware when out in the public and have different “rules” they need to adhere to when showing. Just like with owning an un-spayed or un-neutered dog--- it’s not your animals that’s the probably generally; it’s the negligence and incompetence of the other animal owners you’re going to have to interact with. Aside from all these incorrect notions about stallions that are perpetrated in media & “word of mouth” equine communities--- a lot of people are discouraged from stallion ownership because of the extra precautions they need to take and complexity involved in showing or just being able to ride in public spaces. In my region, we have several stallions that regularly compete at dressage shows of all sizes. They’re all also very well-behaved. The issues that arise with them at shows comes from people not recognizing a stallion in the warm-up and giving them space. You know that picture of the obedient pitbull not eating a steak because he’s following orders to not eat the steak? Stallions at shows are a lot like that pitbull, they’re not necessarily going to cause an issue if a steak walks by--- but unlike the pitbull and the steak... a stallion in warm-up with a mare in heat riding past isn’t the only one who needs to show obedience or restraint. The mare is just as likely to be the problem. When you then consider that stallions are almost exclusively owned and showed by professionals whereas mares are still overwhelmingly shown by amateurs... that’s the issue. It’s not the stallion or the way the stallion has been conditioned or trained much of the time. It’s the issue of how amateur owners and riders react to stallions.Another complexity of showing with a stallion is the stabling situation--- again, pitbull-steak/stallion-mare comparison... it’s not certainly going to be the stallion who is the issue. Whereas a mare or gelding owner you can get around stabling issues of a mare being listed as a gelding or a gelding listed as a mare in show paperwork (one of my mares was always incorrectly filed as a gelding at one showing facility); stallions owners can’t easily take on these mistakes. Even with greatly behaved stallions you can have issues being stabled next to a mare because as much as you can make a point that stallions aren’t aggressive or bad because they’re stallions, you also can’t ignore the fact that they’re stallions.As much as I want to hold-on to the pitbull-steak analogy... at the end of the day, the pitbull isn’t trying to have sex with the steak but a stallion is 100% biologically wired to have sex with a mare. There are instances when training doesn’t hold up against biologic impulses. That’s why animals will mate with their parents or siblings--- at the end of the day you can’t convey consequence for sexual response the way you can convey consequence for misbehavior. No stallion owner wants to deal with their stallion breaking down the stall because he’s too near a mare in heat because the show facility fucked up and listed him as a gelding.

In order to own and compete (or own and keep at “home” without competing) a stallion, there’s a lot of work that has to go into place. For ownership you need a large facility to keep the stallion away from mares. For showing, you need to be extremely proactive and constantly be on top of keeping your stallion out of scenarios that could end badly. It’s a lot.

So, no I don’t think it’s the belief in stallions being aggressive that prevents larger scale stallion ownership. I think it’s an issue with stallion ownership having more difficulties associated with it and those are difficulties that (again, focusing on America) most owners do not want to take on---even professionals. There are many breeding farms that only have mares. There are many professionals who only want to ride geldings or mares because they don’t want to deal with the associated difficulties of campaigning a stallion.

Are the misconceptions about stallions or difficulties associated with stallions related to inbreeding and poor genetic variance? No. To assume this was the case would be to ignore the fact that every single animal isn’t breeding quality. The biggest reason out there why people don’t own and show stallions has nothing to do with misinformation or extra care--- it has everything to do with the fact there’s absolutely zero reason to keep a non-breeding animal intact.

My cat isn’t neutered because I was afraid he’d be dangerous. My cat is neutered because there was absolutely no reason for him to not be neutered. He’s not a purebred with excellent conformation, so he’s not going to be producing babies. Keeping in him intact would’ve just meant I would have to deal with a lot more issues making sure he never tried to impregnate another cat. Keeping him intact would’ve meant I possibly wouldn’t be able to safely keep him with my spayed female and may never be able to bring another cat into our home until he’d passed. I absolutely wouldn’t be able to let him outside off-leash (which I don’t believe in outdoor cats anyway) and potentially never be able to have him outside on-leash. There would be far too many feral intact cats that would cause him to harm me with misplaced aggression if he went outside.

It’s the same for horses. Unless that horse is determined to be of breeding quality conformation and performance... then you don’t keep it intact. Why risk a stallion breaking out to impregnate the neighbor’s mares when you’re just keeping the horse for your personal enjoyment and the horse isn’t of any genetic benefit to its breed? You don’t want to be responsible for anymore unwanted cats or dogs in the world--- that’s why you neuter. You don’t want to be responsible for anymore unwanted horses in the world either--- that’s part of why we geld.

Breeds that are suffering from too small a genetic pool don’t benefit from allowing subpar genes. Gelded Finnhorses (or gelded any other breed) are gelded because they do not possess traits that should be passed down. If you breed low quality horses, you get lower and lower quality horses. The only way to salvage breeds that don’t have enough genetic variance is to allow in outside breeds. Which is hard to do with breeds that have closed books and aren’t open to the idea of losing “purity”--- which just leads to a continued degradation of the “pure” horses left. More people owning stallions can’t fix a small gene pool.The horses that are marked for breeding quality are marked for breeding quality (generally) before they ever hit the market. Are some horses that could be beneficial to the breeding pool that never get bred because they’re sold into the sport market by breeders without the resources to keep them? Yes, but generally horses that are actually going to be benefiting the breed stay within the breeding community.

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fmlfpl · 6 years ago

Photo

Lineup Lamentations - GW12

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

No guest slacker this week sorry I forgot to do it yesterday.. fuckin’ Friday deadlines...

And if you missed it for subscribers Friday My Life episode came out last night!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: CHO

IN: Hayden

Passive cuck mode has been engaged and I'm floating my other transfer instead of hitting Vardy in.

I was quite close to fucking the world and bringing in Ozil and Wilf, but as I lay in bed looking at my team with these two beauties in it, I remembered that while fun is fun, getting green arrows is really the most fun. And so I'm going to trust the process, be disciplined like a good little boy, and try to make pod partner proud.

GK:

Pope (WHU)

Pope....again....blech.

Short leash for this poopyhead. Couple good fixtures but who knows if that even matters at this point. Praying..and biding time to turn him into Hendo or Gaz.

DEF:

Alexander-Arnold & Robertson (avl)

Trent and R0bbo with a rough one this Sunday but as we know always shouts for attacking returns. Feels good to have held them throughout the season as they've been quietly trickling in and the law of averages demand cleans are near.

Lundstram (tot)

Pointstram has a rough on paper fixture but he seems still like an ok start. Spurs struggle against buses so who knows what will come.

Rico (new)

Starting Rico for the first time in last couple gameweeks with his cleans stuck first spot on my bench...so we all know how that goes. 1 pointer incoming up the geordies.

MID:

Salah (MCI) and Sterling and De Bruyne (liv)

Sticking with the big lads Mo, Raz and Kevin. Dunno what will come to pass in this tie of giants but generally speaking I am going to hold the City guys and see where the chips fall.

Mount (CRY)

Mount remains with the somewhat good signs to his recovery and starting this weekend against Palace. It will be his byebye game in my team while he turns into a bag of coin to fund Vardy next week.

FWD:

Abraham (CRY)

Tammy has been a good lad since getting him in not much to see there. Seems like a pretty steady hold for a while as long as he's fit.

Pukki (WAT)

I can't even believe I have to type his name again..but I still have Pukki. I hope he just avoids a yellow and gets me 2 points. Kill for it.

CAP:

Salah (MCI)

Back to Mo. Time for Mo to cometh and dongeth.

I'm going to probably stick cap on him for a little spell here after the IB as well with their good fixtures. Don't really have a good feel for this game but with Mo on pens and Bravo in goal idk whatever the fuck.

Get in Mo.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: N/A

IN: N/A

Saving because I’m being indecisive and scared and passive and don’t really know what to do?

The moves that have sounded best in a week of tinkering involve turning Kelly and probably Lowton into Trent/Robbo but I wouldn’t want to do that this week anyway with City rolling up so maybe that’s where I’ll start going next week.

TBD.

I had an extremely hard time figuring out my 11 this week and like Walsh kept reminding me on the pod and on Friday My Life and over text - I will bench points this week 100% so I guess whatever yolo here we go.

GK:

Gazzaniga (SHU)

Gaz in a good clean fixture this really should be a clean for Spurs even though they’re kind of bad they’ve been tight at home.

And for as good as SHU have been they’re still a mostly pretty conservative and bad attacking side.

DEF:

Lundstram (tot)

I went on my rant on the pod on how good Lundy’s attacking stats are and all that shit and then add in SHU’s defensive fortitude and this guy is just never getting benched by me again this season.

0-0 would serve me well with Gaz.

Tomori (CRY)

Legitimately a clean banker but also I don’t trust Chelsea to make it easy.

Palace will have at least a couple of big chances through probably errors from Zouma/Tomori/Kepa/Azpi and I just have to hope that they don’t convert’em.

Söyüncü (ARS)

Leicester are still putting up absolutely fantastic defensive numbers and listen, Arsenal will not be an easy clean, but there’s also the chance that Brodge just plays like four defensive midfielders who park and in those matches where he’s done that they’ve been very tough to breakdown.

And Arsenal aren’t exactly lighting the world on fire.

A clean seems totally possible to me.

MID:

Salah (MCI)

Obvs fit Mo gets in there.

Sterling and De Bruyne (liv)

Obvs the fit city guys get in there.

Hudson-Odoi (CRY)

Last second change bringing in CHO for Lowton. Lambs change. Felt it while typing out why I’m starting Lowton and changed it.

It’s a complete gut feel here but fuck man we know Palace are gonna be parked, we know the minutes in Willian’s legs and Puli’s legs, and we know that CHO isn’t gonna be completely bombed out... It’s time for a CHO start against the bus, he’s the perfect player to be dancing and taking people on in the box to break down Palace... Come on Frank!!!

Chelsea supporters seems pretty 50/50 split on whether he starts or not but really I don’t expect a Lowton clean anyway so the floor difference in points is nothing while on the other side of things if CHO starts the ceiling is absolutely in the double digits... Going with the gut feel and the ceiling play here.

Praying for the CHO start so fucking hard.

FWD:

Vardy (ARS)

Glad to have the key man in Vards for the long haul.

Don’t expect a ton of goals flying in at home to Arsenal but he’ll get his one or two chances and honestly probably convert at least one.

Abraham (CRY)

Tammy still putting up elite striker numbers as he has done basically all season. What a guy. Love him.

Palace are tough to break down but I back this Chelsea team to put up good attacking numbers week in week out and Tammy is at the center of it all.

Pukki (WAT)

Hey at least it’s a home match? An absolute piss take that we’re both still owning and starting Pukki but life is hard... ok?

Watford have been keeping it tight lately but also they have to begin to try and pickup points at some point in the season or they’ll be relegated by January... Norwich similarly should be going for this one at home and while Pukki and Norwich are complete garbage I actually think he might get a goal... Lol at me...

Woke up this morning with a text from Walsh that said, “There is nothing that would make me happier in life today than if Pukki got an assist. One time Finnish cunt,” and so yeah that’s where we’re both at at this point in our lives. Fuck.

CAP:

Abraham (CRY)

Been on him all week, haven’t really wavered at all. Do not like the Vardy cap nearly as much but I guess I’m alone there?

As Walsh has been saying all season there are more 4-0s and 5-0s to come for this Palace side and I’m hoping that this week is one of those... Chelsea and Tammy and CHO for a festival of dongs come on boys let’s go.

#fml fpl #fmlfpl #fpl #fantasy premier league #lineup lamentations

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samanthasroberts · 6 years ago

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The Roots of Punk Drinking Songs

The last time we looked at drinking songs we divided them into two kinds, the upbeat, celebratory hymn to Bacchus and the introspective, dirge-like ode to alcohol as (to quote Homer—the Springfield one, not the ancient Ionian) “the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.”

Our choice for the greatest drinking song of them all, Roger Ferris’s “The King is Gone (So Are You)” as cut by the mighty George Jones, fell firmly in the latter category, as do many of the greatest drinking songs. But the Bacchic hymns, packed as they are with exhilaration, disorder and anarchic freedom, have their moments, too.

Many of those moments are found in a subdivision of the category, the one devoted not to praising alcoholic beverages collectively or individually or to extolling drunkenness in general, but rather to celebrating and chronicling one particular drinking session. Call it—to use German, the language of genre theory and excessive drinking—the Sauforgienepos; the “swill-session epic.”

There are countless fine examples of the genre, from the Hibernian hilarity of the Dubliners’s “Finnegan’s Wake” (as cited in our previous article) to Virginia O’Brien’s jaunty toe-tapper, “Did I Get Stinkin’ at the Club Savoy,” from the 1942 film Panama Hattie, to “Drunk,” Jimmy Liggins’s monumental military-spec floor-pounder from 1953.

My favorite example, however, is “Peter and Paul,” a 1931 rarity by the Gene Kardos Orchestra that is both hotter than a shot of upcountry corn shine and also one of the weirdest songs ever recorded. The weirdness lies not in the music itself, the instrumentation or even the performance, but rather in the fact that it was recorded at all. Read the lyrics, given here in full, and you’ll see what I mean.

One summer day it came to pass

That Peter and Paul upon an ass

Went up to town to take a glass

And bum around Jerusalem

O Jerusalem,

Jerusalem the golden!

Then Peter started falling in:

“Come on, let’s have a hooker of gin.”

“Brother,” says Paul, “it would be a sin

To liquor in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.

But when they got into the bar,

Says Paul, “O look, Pete, here we are—

We must have followed the Hennessy star*

Instead of that of Bethlehem.”

[*Until the 1960s, a Cognac’s age was generally indicated by the number of stars on the label—ed.]

O-o Bethlehem, etc.

The barmaid had an ankle neat;

It soon began to get to Pete,

He grabbed her right behind the seat—

The seat of old Jerusalem.

O Jerusalem, etc.

Says Peter, “Paul, I have a notion:

Time to tend to my devotion.”

Says Paul, “you’re rolling like an ocean—

You’re all wet in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.”

Indeed. It’s not often you encounter scurrilous fanfic about the Apostles. What gives?

About the song itself, little is known. It was copyrighted—or at least the melody was—in November, 1931, by one “F. Arnold.” The label of Kardos’s recording—the only one the song has ever received—expands that “F” to “Florence.” After extensive searching, I believe that this is also the only song Florence Arnold ever copyrighted or published.

As to who she was, besides an impressive wiseass, I cannot say. There was a Florence Arnold, alias “the Irish nightingale” and “the blonde pony,” who sang and danced in vaudeville in the 1900s and 1910s and then married Charles Koster, the king of American circus publicists. Koster was a famous wiseass himself, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he married another one, but beyond that there’s no proof we’re talking about the same Florence Arnold or even if that was the composer of the song’s real name.

We know a little more about the song’s performers. Yugin “Gene” Kardos (1899-1980) is not one of the great names in jazz. He was neither a paradigm-shifting soloist nor a brilliant composer nor a flamboyant, larger-than-life personality. He was a Hungarian Jewish kid born and raised on the then-tough Upper East Side of Manhattan who lived with his parents. He talked with a thick, dese-dem-and-dose New York accent and had worked as a bookkeeper. But he could play the violin and the saxophone and he knew how to lead a band; how to keep it together; how to focus its energies; how to make sure everyone zigged when they were supposed to zig, zagged when they were supposed to zag, and went BRAP! BRAP! BRAP! with their horns precisely when they were supposed to go BRAP! BRAP! BRAP!

On the strength of that, Kardos got his Orchestra—any band too big to fit in the back of a taxi was an “orchestra” back then—a long-running gig at the Gloria Palast, a German dance hall on East 86th St., a contract with Victor records and a weekly half hour on national radio. In the depths of the Depression, that wasn’t nothing—indeed, those were the kinds of things that made most normal bands who had them famous.

That didn’t happen with these guys, although at first glance, Kardos’s band seemed perfectly normal. In its instrumentation, it was the standard eleven-piece dance band of its day. Two trumpets, a couple of guys who doubled on alto sax and clarinet, a tenor sax, a trombone, a rhythm section—banjo, tuba, piano and drums—and, of course, Kardos, who mostly waved a baton.

Most of the band’s material was pretty standard, too, at least on record: the way things worked, the A&R guy gave you the song and you played it, and most of those songs were corny, “synco-pep” (as it was sometimes called) dance numbers with novelty “vocal refrain.” For records, Victor even teamed the band up with Dick Robertson, their A-list vocal refrain-suppliers and a star in his own right.

It should have worked. I can’t say why it didn’t, but I think the recording session Gene and the boys held on October 23, 1931; the one where they cut “Peter and Paul,” gives us a pretty good clue, as does a band photo taken eight days later. The photo, which can be seen here, was admittedly taken on Halloween. But the band, although dressed in suits like everyone back then, come off as a bunch of stone punks.

One guy’s drinking a beer, a couple appear to be munching on sandwiches, all are disheveled and there is a disconcerting number of flat, “yeah, so?” stares into the camera, including from Kardos. The guy next to him, trumpeter Sid Peltyn, who appears drunk (and he’s not the only one) is pointing a toy gun at his head and leaning on a cane. He had the cane because he got shot in the leg during an affray at the Gloria Palast a few weeks before. Yeah.

During the session, they cut five songs, four of which were released. The one that wasn’t was a ditty called “Sweet Violets,” a novelty number where the verses set the listener up to expect the word “shit” only to have it replaced with “sweet violets.” Not funny, but indicative of the way things would go that day. I suspect the regular A&R guy, who was supposed to keep a tight leash on the proceedings, was hungover or out with the flu that day. In any case, the band did at least plod its way through an utterly forgettable ballad of the most commercial sort. But that left three songs: a college number, a thing called “You’ve Got to Sell It,” and our biblical Sauforgienepos.

They play “a Hot Dog, a Blanket, and You,” the college number, for laughs, throwing in a couple of made-up college cheers, one in a ridiculous falsetto (“Riddledy tiddledy tootsy toot / We are the boys of the institute / We are not rough, we are not tough, / But we are detoimined”). The other cheer, however, gives a clue to the amount of fuck you that the band, made up of nine Jews and two Italians, had in reserve:

Ikey, Moses, Jake and Sam

We are the boys that don’t eat ham

Baseball, football, swimming in a tank

We’ve got the money but we keep it in the bank!

At this point, Kardos closes things off by adding, in his East Side honk, “The only way to make us cheer / Is to give us back our prewar beer.”

“You’ve Got to Sell It” is a fast-tempo flag waver, as they used to be called, with the band riffing while Kardos explains the realities of the band business (“Now most people don’t know a good band when they hear it, good or bad / They most always say it’s the last woid when it’s really very sad … I’ve hoid some coahny bands who knock ‘em off theah seats / And I’ve seen Paderewskis kicked out in the streets”).

And finally, “Peter and Paul.” You don’t need electric guitars, leather jackets and bangs to play punk rock. With the right attitude, a mess of brass and reeds, a piano, a banjo and a drum kit will make plenty of noise. The blisteringly fast double time here, the chords punched out at maximum volume, the blaring trumpet solo, the shouted choruses, the scurrilous, even blasphemous subject matter, the drinking and the sex—pure punk. The Ramones didn’t come from nowhere.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/04/20/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/

0 notes

adambstingus · 6 years ago

Text

The Roots of Punk Drinking Songs

One summer day it came to pass

That Peter and Paul upon an ass

Went up to town to take a glass

And bum around Jerusalem

O Jerusalem,

Jerusalem the golden!

Then Peter started falling in:

“Come on, let’s have a hooker of gin.”

“Brother,” says Paul, “it would be a sin

To liquor in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.

But when they got into the bar,

Says Paul, “O look, Pete, here we are—

We must have followed the Hennessy star*

Instead of that of Bethlehem.”

[*Until the 1960s, a Cognac’s age was generally indicated by the number of stars on the label—ed.]

O-o Bethlehem, etc.

The barmaid had an ankle neat;

It soon began to get to Pete,

He grabbed her right behind the seat—

The seat of old Jerusalem.

O Jerusalem, etc.

Says Peter, “Paul, I have a notion:

Time to tend to my devotion.”

Says Paul, “you’re rolling like an ocean—

You’re all wet in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.”

Indeed. It’s not often you encounter scurrilous fanfic about the Apostles. What gives?

Ikey, Moses, Jake and Sam

We are the boys that don’t eat ham

Baseball, football, swimming in a tank

We’ve got the money but we keep it in the bank!

At this point, Kardos closes things off by adding, in his East Side honk, “The only way to make us cheer / Is to give us back our prewar beer.”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/184327805242

0 notes

allofbeercom · 6 years ago

Text

The Roots of Punk Drinking Songs

One summer day it came to pass

That Peter and Paul upon an ass

Went up to town to take a glass

And bum around Jerusalem

O Jerusalem,

Jerusalem the golden!

Then Peter started falling in:

“Come on, let’s have a hooker of gin.”

“Brother,” says Paul, “it would be a sin

To liquor in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.

But when they got into the bar,

Says Paul, “O look, Pete, here we are—

We must have followed the Hennessy star*

Instead of that of Bethlehem.”

[*Until the 1960s, a Cognac’s age was generally indicated by the number of stars on the label—ed.]

O-o Bethlehem, etc.

The barmaid had an ankle neat;

It soon began to get to Pete,

He grabbed her right behind the seat—

The seat of old Jerusalem.

O Jerusalem, etc.

Says Peter, “Paul, I have a notion:

Time to tend to my devotion.”

Says Paul, “you’re rolling like an ocean—

You’re all wet in Jerusalem.”

O Jerusalem, etc.”

Indeed. It’s not often you encounter scurrilous fanfic about the Apostles. What gives?

Ikey, Moses, Jake and Sam

We are the boys that don’t eat ham

Baseball, football, swimming in a tank

We’ve got the money but we keep it in the bank!

At this point, Kardos closes things off by adding, in his East Side honk, “The only way to make us cheer / Is to give us back our prewar beer.”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-roots-of-punk-drinking-songs/

0 notes

kishamclerie-blog · 8 years ago

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Communication Along with Pen Instruction

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classicfilmfreak · 8 years ago

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New Post has been published on http://www.classicfilmfreak.com/2017/05/18/the-most-dangerous-game-1932-starring-joel-mccrea-and-fay-wray/

The Most Dangerous Game (1932) starring Joel McCrea and Fay Wray

Count Zaroff is an avid hunter, but exactly what he hunts is rather unique, as his guests soon discover.

Aside from both being horror films, King Kong shares numerous similarities with The Most Dangerous Game, released the year before in 1932. Both are produced by David O. Selznick, then head of RKO. Both are scored by Max Steiner. Both utilize some of the same sets, most strikingly the large one for the jungle. Both films star Fay Wray and Robert Armstrong in leading roles and a number of now forgotten supporting players, Noble Johnson, James Flavin, Arnold Gray and Steve Clemente, in minor parts.

The theme of The Most Dangerous Game, man hunting human beings for sport, is based on a short story by Richard Connell in a 1924 issue of Collier’s magazine. Connell (1893-1949) went to Hollywood and quickly became a screenwriter, most impressively for Frank Capra’s Meet John Doe (1941) and Two Girls and a Sailor (1944).

Presented at least three times as a radio drama, The Most Dangerous Game first appeared as an episode of Suspense, September 23, 1943, with Orson Welles as the notorious man hunter Count Zaroff, and Keenan Wynn as the American big game shooter.

Following 1932, the theme of Connell’s story surfaced in, first, two films of sharply contrasting quality. In A Game of Death (1946) an undistinguished cast, providing undistinguished performances, helps make a surprising dud for director Robert Wise. Much better, perhaps even superior to the ’32 Game, with a few additional plot twists and a more developed love story, Run for the Sun (1956) throws Richard Widmark, Trevor Howard and Jane Greer into the jungle. Now the chief villain is a Nazi.

In the next film incarnation of the man-hunting-man subject, Bloodlust (1961), it’s teenagers who become prey for a wealthy recluse. Then followed John Woo’s Hard Target (1993) with Jean-Claude Van Damme, Surviving the Game (1994) with Rutger Hauer, Pest (1997), a comic, bottom-of-the-barrel take on the story with Jeffrey Jones, and, most recently, The Eliminator (2004).

In any synopsis of The Most Dangerous Game, it would seem proper, even necessary, to include a running commentary on Max Steiner’s score. The music plays an integral part in the film, an equal participator, especially in the long jungle chase, where, with minimal dialogue, there is only the screen and the music.

The composer’s contribution here, coming in 1932, is early in the evolution of the extensive, nineteenth century style score that would, by the late 1930s and the further achievements of Erich Wolfgang Korngold, become standard procedure. King Kong, made at the same time as Game but released a year later, the delay owing perhaps to the time-consuming special effects required for Kong and the prehistoric creatures, has one of the first continuous, wall-to-wall scores in sound-on-film movie history.

Though music for Game occupies only about half of the film’s running time, the one sequence in the chase that lasts over four minutes demonstrates not only the competence and confidence of Steiner at this rather early stage in his film-scoring career, but shares a similar ambiance with the music he was simultaneously writing for King Kong. The composer would not reach his artistic peak until he joined Warner Bros. in 1936, beginning with The Charge of the Light Brigade, his inaugural score for that studio.

The main title is distinctive for the great iron door, and, unfortunately, the rather incongruously shy hand (why not a dramatic, insistent one?) that three times lifts the knocker, each timid knock bringing a new wipe of credits. First heard after the RKO telegraph-tower-atop-the-globe trademark is an ominous two-note motif on a solo horn, alternating with an uneasy disturbance in primarily the strings. Rather than the door opening, there’s a last wipe for a listing of the players.

The sinister music of the main title segues into a contrasting, soft lyrical theme, reminiscent, seven years later, of Steiner’s Dodge City score. On screen, it is night and a yacht is navigating a channel on the west coast of South America, guided by lights from several buoys.

The captain (William Davidson) is concerned that the location of the lights disagrees with his charts, but big game hunter Bob Rainsford (Joel McCrea) persuades him to sail on. The yacht runs aground and quickly sinks. After two companions are eaten by sharks, Rainsford swims alone to an island.

After wandering through the jungle, he approaches a fortress-like edifice and knocks on the huge entrance door (from the main title). The door slowly opens and he steps into an enormous room as the score fades. A bearded man (Johnson) behind the door pushes it closed. Dressed in a white tunic, he doesn’t speak when Rainsford quizzes him.

Descending a long flight of stone stairs, a man in a tuxedo and smoking a cigarette on an extender says his servant, Ivan, is dumb. He introduces himself as an expatriate Russian, Count Zaroff (Leslie Banks in his talkie début). During World War I, the left side of his face was scared, an injury he adapts to his screen personas—for good guys, the left side is away from the camera; for villains, that side is toward the camera. Here he openly refers to the scare—“this head of mine”—and frequently touches his fingers to the mark on his temple, a sign of insanity, perhaps?

Rainsford meets two other guests of the count, Eve Trowbridge (Wray) and her inebriated, blasé brother Martin (Armstrong). Both, the count announces, were also stranded by a sinking ship. Eve seems to subtly warn Rainsford that things aren’t right here.

In the course of the evening, the four discuss the fine art of hunting. “Here on my island,” Zaroff says, “I hunt the most dangerous game.” “Tigers?” Rainsford asks. The count touches his temple. “My one secret. I keep it as a surprise for my guests, against the rainy day of boredom.” (The last phrase is a bit uncolloquial, clearly a writer’s line.)

After Rainsford and Eve retire for the night, the count offers to show Martin his trophy room. “I’m sure,” Zaroff says, “you’ll find it most . . . interesting.” (First time that adjective was used so ominously? Perhaps not!)

After almost twenty minutes of absence, Steiner’s score returns as Rainsford, from his bed, hears the sounds of dogs and a knock at the door. Eve says her brother is not in his room. The two creep downstairs, accompanied by stalking double basses and, at one point, the horn motif, now buried in the orchestral texture. Inside the trophy room, they behold a human head mounted on the wall. (Other heads and some gruesome dialogue by Zaroff were deleted after the premiere.) The count, carrying a candelabrum, enters with two servants bearing, on a stretcher, a dead Martin.

Now Rainsford learns which game Zaroff hunts, that Martin was his latest prey and that the madman has shifted the buoys to strand ship passengers on his island. By refusing to join the count in future hunts, Rainsford now becomes the hunted, provided with a woodsman knife and from sunset to sunrise to survive. Eve, rather than stay behind with Zaroff, joins Rainsford. The count himself won’t start “hunting” his two prey until midnight.

Rainsford first sets a Malay dead-fall or man-catcher, but Zaroff triggers the trip line with an arrow from his Tartar war bow, causing the dead tree trunk to fall harmlessly.

Next, a pitfall, with branches and brush over a crevice, fails to snare their pursuer. When Eve and Rainsford slip into a fog bank, making Zaroff’s rifle ineffective, the mad hunter signals on a hunting horn—the two-note horn motif from the score, no less. His dogs (Great Danes) are released, with Ivan holding the leashes to three or four of the animals.

Rainsford, at one point, sticks a sharp-ended branch in the ground, and Ivan is impaled upon it, leaving, now, Zaroff and only one servant in pursuit.

While most of the chase is music-accompanied, there are several long stretches where Steiner’s presence comes forth brilliantly. He gives the brass an amazing workout, especially the trumpets; the horn motif is sometimes heard as a solo, sometimes buried in the fabric of the orchestration. Much of the scoring, however, is standard action music, full of ostinato rhythms and various motifs in addition to the horn call, a montage suitable for any kind of chase, though nonetheless exciting. Some classical music “purists,” whoever they may be, would denigrate it out of hand as, “Oh, this is just film music,” as if that fact made it an automatic negative.

The chase climax, in screen action and music, occurs behind a waterfall. Rainsford kills the first dog, but Zaroff shoots and Rainsford and the second dog, locked in a death struggle, fall into the plunge pool of the falls. With a dramatically lighted close-up with deep shadows, the count’s eyes glare as he takes Eve back to the fortress as his prize. “Only after the kill,” Zaroff had said at the beginning of the hunt, “does man know the true ecstasy of love.”

The supposedly triumphant count now plays a waltz on his piano, a Steiner tune containing, persistently, the horn motif. Soon after Zaroff asks a servant to bring Eve to him, he is confronted by Rainsford, who says he took a chance and fell with the dog; it was the dog the count shot. Zaroff admits defeat, tossing the keys to the boathouse, but then pulls a pistol from a table drawer. The two men struggle, accompanied by Steiner’s fight music, and Rainsford stabs his opponent with one of his arrows. Even as Eve and Rainsford are fleeing in the motorboat, the wounded count staggers to a high window with his Tartar war bow, but dies and rolls out the window before he can shoot.

The small cast generally renders convincing performances, especially Joel McCrea, always excellent as the stalwart man of intelligence, and Fay Wray as the damsel in distress. For the chase, her nightgown attire, hardly improper today, would have been deemed too risqué if the then in operation Production Code had been doing its job, though strict enforcement did begin in 1934. There are no moments for an authentic romance between the two leads, so tied are they to the plot of their staying alive.

Armstrong often overacts, especially when he’s playing drunk. It’s hard to know whether he is the standard one-note comic relief in a generally humorless film or a bona fide actor trying to be serious. He may well be the weakest link among the leading stars.

Leslie Banks is the standout, if for no other reason than he, too, overacts, a little campy, but that somehow colors his identity as a suave, cultured villain. His Shakespearean training, with the somewhat old-fashioned cadenced tones, is misplaced, at least in this case. In Laurence Olivier’s Henry V (1945), he is relegated to being the chorus.

A MUSIC NOTE – For those interested, the excitement of both the film and the music may be “relived,” so to speak, through a NAXOS CD (8.570183), the only modern (2001) recording available of the Most Dangerous Game score. The disc is highly recommended for the excellent playing of the Moscow Symphony Orchestra, the sound engineering by Edvard Shakhnazarian, the extensive notes by Bill Whitaker and a generous thirty-two minutes from the score. Also included are forty-five minutes from another Max Steiner score, the 1933 Song of Kong, the sequel to King Kong.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DXLTw22HOQ

#Fay Wray #Joel McCrea

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fmlfpl · 6 years ago

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Lineup Lamentations - GW5

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Laporte - rip

IN: Otamendi - god help me

Unfortunately I was unable to save off the back of the WC which never feels great, but hopefully making a lateral swap here which frees up 1m to boot.

I don't really imagine this going well, since I have slated Ota for a while, and think he's more or less a red card shout / absolute shit house player generally speaking, but here we are.

If it's a transfer waiting to happen, so be it, but the bottom line is I still want a share in City's defense, I don't trust Everton for cleans still, and something didn't feel quite right going all the way down to a Burnley guy in a spot on my team which I realistically need to start week in week out... Until Pep shows us that he is willing to play anyone not named Otamendi as the LCB with Laporte out then I will just hope and pray he doesn't kill anyone (which would thus kill himself with a ban) and doesn't die. Whatever. Cue Dinho and Schtones at CB tomorrow.

Post international break GW is usually a complete disaster crisis gameweek so I am just simply trying to brace myself for it ahead of time.

GK:

Pope (bha)

Pope is looking good in this moment with the good run of fixtures incoming. He's been just a bit below average with only one return through four but the underlying metrics are looking good for him and hopefully he's just a long term hold guy I don't have to worry about.

DEF:

Alexander-Arnold & Robertson (NEW)

Trent and Robbo with the home banker okay lets go Livp. Early game so much of my mood for the ensuing foots will be decided by these boys. Realistically a win to nil at home against a bad bus feels like a reasonable expectation for this one so hopefully it comes to fruition.

Otamendi (nor)

New nightmare Ota is straight in, obv. Somewhat tricky away fixture for a clean but it's still City so he'll just be an auto start every game until I remove him.

Lundstram (SOU)

Finally, Lundstram gets his first go in my squad home to Soton.

I'm going to be rotating him in and out over the near term so we'll see if this is the beginning of something beautiful between us or the beginning of a fraught relationship that will lead to me hating him for the rest of my life. Time will tell.

MID:

Salah (NEW) & Sterling & De Bruyne (nor)

The trio of Mo Raz and Kev remain and likely will do for some time. Really nothing to say about these three other than they are good. Spots I don't really need to think about at this time.

McGinn (WHU)

Rounding out midfield is someone who is not really that good in McGinn.

Good home fixture with West Ham rolling up so hopefully he is able to get in there. If he looks bad and/or they look bad then I might fuck him off.

He's on a short leash, that's for sure, as he was really the one shit place I compromised on my WC team since I wanted to plump for Laporte... With that money freed up now, no other problems in my team, and a new price bracket open to me... I might fuck him off even if he does return. Who is to say?

FWD:

Pukki (MCI) & Haller (avl)

Pukki and Haller the two amigos seem like just a couple great value picks and happy to have them.

Great fixture for Haller and he might slowly but surely present himself as a long term hold. Stats and eye test are there with him not to mention the price is right - think he's a really tidy option.

Pukki has a tough fixture but as Farke showed us the lightning and thunder in GW1 at Anfield who knows what's what with them. Obviously they are completely decimated by injury, but I need to see multiple bad attacking performances before I begin to worry here.

CAP:

Sterling (nor)

Going back to the Raz well again. Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, fucking hell fuck me.

Still don't feel confident enough capping Kevin over Raz, and probably won't do all season, if I'm being honest here.

I think Norwich with no fit defensive players (Farke's words, not mine) and the style they employ is not a comparable fixture to a Newcastle bus so I didn't really think about Mo this weekend.

Counting on Raz to not have 0 shot attempts again this week. Obviously the trip to Ukraine midweek for UCL is a thing that is happening, but whatever.

Trying to predict how Pep hands out minutes is like (insert funny thing here) and I don't really want to find some psychological line to talk me into Raz will play 53 minutes only to see him haul and play 88.

Been there before, not trying to go there again.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Deulofeu

IN: Che Adams

Gerry dropped all the way down to 6.2 so there was a relatively small and unimpressive pool of dudes for me to choose from for this punty spot in my team.

Realistically this is a one or maybe two week punt before I pop my Wildcard next week or the week after... Che has actually insanely good expected stats which is nothing to scoff at even though the goals have not flowed at all...

The greater skill to have and the harder skill to find is to keep getting off the high xG shots rather then to be finishing at a higher rate above your xG, if that makes sense... I hope I’ve worded that clearly...

Anyway, TLDR: Che is doing stuff, Southampton are an attacking team in an attacking setup, Ralph is good I like Ralph, and Soton have the fixtures over the next two. And that’s why I went Che.

COME ON CHE!!!

GK:

Ederson (nor)

City gotta clean their shit up a bit if they’re gonna be a 20+ cleans type of dominant force again this season but yeah of course I back them to do exactly that.

Eddy’s been mostly really good this season and I feel comfy with him.

DEF:

van Dijk (NEW)

It’s time for rotation to begin for the top teams... feels good to have the safety of VVD who is a rock. And this clean should be straightforward for Liverpool.

Digne (bou)

I’m a little nervy about Everton’s defending and their ability to limit good chances... Digne kinda papers over the cracks with his terrific attacking output, but if they start looking like cleans are going to be a rarity this season then even his attacking numbers will not make him worth the 6.0+ million.

Maitland-Niles (wat)

Ainsley AKA Ashley was rightfully so very deep on my bench for liv TOT and he put up one pointers in each of those so we’re fine.

In his two starts for me (GW1 and 2) he got twelve and two puntos respectively so he’s still been a sneaky great guy for me thus far... Arsenal’s very long very good run of fixtures starts now but Bellerin also is coming back soon so time is running out.

Hoping Arsenal can do a job and keep out the Quique Sanchez Flores bus this week and maybe he’ll sneak another attacking return. Come on Ashley.

Emerson (wol)

Starting Emmy here because Wolves suck at attacking and Chelsea could still keep a clean and Emerson could still get an attacking return who knows?

Rudi looks like he’s back this week which is a huge upgrade and Kante will be back soon which is another huge upgrade but yeah, not feeling great about this pick.

Also Emerson’s injury news doesn’t look great for me but if he doesn’t play I have Söy coming in in a cleanable fixture at Old Trafford so not too bad.

MID:

Salah (NEW) & Sterling & De Bruyne (nor)

Doing the trendy thing and just grouping these sexy fucks together because they’re all awesome and they have good fixtures and that’s all you need to know about that.

Mount (wol)

Everyone knows the deal with Mount. Looks great, takes a lot of shots, presses like a maniac, on frees and corners, it’s just good stuff. At his price it’s just good.

FWD:

Pukki (MCI)

Pukki in a yikes fixture here we go... Norwich are so fucked up and injured I don’t know I definitely don’t expect any points here but maybe they get one or two good counters or maybe Pukki takes a pen or something. He’s good enough to roll out there, for sure.

Adams (shu)

I said all I needed to say about lord Che in the transfers section.

CAP:

De Bruyne (nor)

I guess everyone has Sterling and a lot of people have Kun and understandably they’re garnering most of the captaincies that I’m seeing around the block.

Kevin, for me, so far this season is on a completely new level that we haven’t really seen from him before. His expected stats are out of control and he’s also got the seventh highest Fantasy Goal Involvement percentage of all mids at 54% which is craaaazy high for a team like City.

For what it’s worth too in the past Pep has rode Kevin like a horse in the league and he’s not really ever been a rotation risk. I feel ~some~ percent safer of him starting these kinds of games before UCL then I do with the forwards.

Come on Kev treat me.

—

RANDOM SLACKER OF THE WEEK: GNAR

The words of Random Slacker are not officially endorsed by this website nor any employees of FML FPL LLC.

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Laporte

IN: Otamendi

I don’t feel like I have too much choice in who to take out this week. Laporte having knee surgery and set to miss the rest of 2019 means he’s an absolute no brainer to axe.

Who to replace him with is a much more interesting question.

I’ve been playing 5 at the back all season and it hasn’t worked out as well as I’d hoped so far. But I do feel like I’ve been unlucky with Laporte’s injury and his missed clean sheet being the icing on the cake.

If I went for a cheapo like Lundstram, there aren’t many midfielders I’d be desperate to bring in with the spare cash, apart from KDB, who is out of my reach anyway. So I’ll be continuing my Heavy D strategy, bringing in Otamendi, who is 5.4 and nailed on in a top 2 defence.

GK:

Leno (wat)

New manager for Watford, so an inevitable new manager bounce.

I have Heaton (WHU) as a rotation option, but the odds point to Leno for the clean sheet, although it’s quite marginal.

DEF:

Digne (bou)

I didn’t watch their 3-2 victory against Wolves but I heard Digne looked defensively dodgy. I did watch their 2-0 defeat to Villa the previous week, and while Everton looked completely toothless and unconvincing, Digne at least offered a bit of attacking threat. I’m not expecting a clean sheet here, but Digne has 9 chances created this season. For a defender, that’s second only to…

Alexander-Arnold (NEW)

14 chances created – 14, compared to Digne’s 9; Trent absolutely wipes the floor.

I took a hit last week to upgrade VVD to Trent and I got an immediate positive net return from it. As well as his excellent attacking prospects, Liverpool also have the best clean sheet odds this week by quite a distance.

Robertson (NEW)

Very good chance of a clean sheet this week and although he’s no Alexander-Arnold, he also offers a very good goal threat.

Maybe I’m guilty of picking and choosing stats here, but out of defenders, Robertson’s 2nd for touches in the box this season (12), which is quite a biggie for me when assessing players’ attacking potential.

Otamendi & Zinchenko (nor)

Welcome to the team, Ota.

With Laporte injured, I expect Ota to nail down a place in the first team. Enough said.

Zinchenko has a bit of a Mendy threat looming, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, another well priced Man City defender who will trickle points as long as he starts. Lacks the explosiveness of KDB (yeah he’s explosive now) or Aguero, but for 5.5, I’ll take a 6 pointer every 2 weeks for sure.

MID:

Salah (NEW) & Sterling (nor)

Grouping these two together because there’s just not that much to say. The two best players in the game don’t need writing about, especially when their fixtures are as easy as this. The only question is which one to captain.

Mount (wol)

14 shots in total this season, 7 on target, both are the highest of any other midfielder. But with only 5 of those shots coming from inside the box and an xG of 0.82, perhaps he’s a bit opportunistic and has been a bit fortunate.

Mount still feels like a bit of an unknown quantity to me and I haven’t watched too much Chelsea this season, but he’s well priced and there are plenty of other options in his bracket, so happy to see how he gets on over the next few.

FWD:

Jota (CHE)

I always like to plan my ideal transfers a few weeks ahead.

Before the last gameweek started, I was planning Jota to Barnes. Unfortunately Laporte got injured, so my priority changed and Jota stays with me for one more week. And Barnes is now injured anyway, so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.

Jota is a funny one. He’s scoring for fun in the Europa League, but looking absolute garbage the following Sunday in the Premier League. He was in the squad, but played 0 minutes in Portugal’s 2 games over the IB. I feel like Jota might redeem himself.

Pukki (MCI)

The main man for Norwich.

If they score, there’s a very good chance that Pukki will be involved.

As an Ota + Zinc owner though I’m kind of hoping they don’t.

CAP:

Salah (NEW)

A real coin toss.

Salah and Sterling are both fantastic options this week, like they are every week.

So far, every gameweek I’ve picked the lowest scoring one out of the two. In week 3, I went against my instinct and went for Raz over Mo, which backfired. This week, my instinct is telling me Mo so I’m just going with it.

#FML FPL #FMLFPL #FPL #Fantasy Premier League #Premier League #Soccer #Fantasy Soccer #Football #Fantasy Football #Sports #Fantasy Sports #Lineup Lamentations

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