#he changes it later to be cooler and more awesome and dope and have more swag

[cowboyvillainz]

herostaire. I like him.

something I have never done before is draw out the way a character's fashion sense progresses over time. it was super fun to think about... I love to draw clothes and this took it to another level by mixing it with characterization and story arcs. TASTY!

[thefantasygirl3]

The fearsom five's christmas hijynx

Genre/warnings: Comedy, Slice of life.

Word count: 7 792

Summary: The other fearsome five are hiding in fear, scared over what Quackerjack might have gotten them for christmas. When he offers them their gifts, they get nervous and make up the excuse of christmas shopping to keep him distracted. Meanwhile they find ways to protect themselves from the dastardly gifts.

Notes: This one really came out later than I’d expect and became far longer than expected! But here it is and I hope it satisfies someone.

The city of st. Canard. It was covered in a white sheet of cold frozen flakes. The day of christmas was quickly approaching and the citizens were all running about in their holiday craze. Many were preparing their houses for the cheerful holiday, others were doing some last minute christmas shopping and some others were preparing traps so they could finally see santa in the feathers. Many active people out and about. 

In fact, even some of the villains were preparing for their christmas plans. 

Negaduck was walking through the dark alleyways, stealthily making his way towards the hideout of his evil team. The villain was scoffing to himself and making disgusted sounds as he stomped his way through. "BLEGH! Christmas junk all over the place! It makes me sick to my stomach seeing all the lights and colorful decorations and APPALLING GLITTER! Makes me want to burn everything to the ground" he complained to no one as he kept heading towards his hideout, making sure he moved undetected through the more populated areas before he finally reached the nest.

Entering the building, he kept talking out loud and started to laugh menacingly to himself. “But it doesn’t matter! All this meaningless malarkey is at least going to be a good distraction for my next heist! Mwua ha ha ha ha! Yes! They will be too busy ripping up presents and stuffing themselves full, no one will be around to stop me from robbing the bank! It's the… perfect… crime…" as Negaduck kept monologuing to himself, his steps started to slow to a stop as he reached the middle of the hideout. The duck immediately took note of the fact that the place was pretty much empty. There should be people here already, he had told them to be there early! "Damn ditzy dopes! I should be getting the chainsaw ready for them when they arrive!" he grumbled angrily as he rounded the corner, heading towards the workspace. 

As soon as he did so, something caught his eye. Out of one of the boxes, a violet petal was peeking out. It was quite obvious and it made Negaduck rub his temples in exasperation. Walking over towards the box, the duck reached out and grabbed the petal in his fingers, immediately plucking it harshly. And with that, Bushroot shot out of the box with a loud "YOUCH!" and landed on his butt, outside the box while rubbing his hair in pain. "Hello, vegetable. Mind telling me WHAT YOU WERE DOING HIDING IN A BOX!?!" Negaduck yelled at the plant scientist on the floor, tapping his foot as he awaited an answer. "N-Negaduck!” Bushroot yelped as he jolted up and crawled back, bumping into a big wooden panel that fell over and revealed Megavolt, curled up on the ground. "Negaduck?!" he exclaimed surprised as he shot up from his place on the floor. "Negaduck! Y-you're here early!" Liquidator added on as his head materialized out of the puddle underneath the fridge.

"Yes I am! And you'll be seeing an early grave if you don't tell me what you're doing!" the duck who's name was repeated earlier demanded as he grabbed a hold of Megavolt and pulled him off of the ground. "Don't you realize! It's christmas! HE might be here soon! We'll be doomed" the plug-head explained in fear as he was shaking on his knees and in the other's hand. "BHA! You idiots gave away our HIDEOUT!?!" the yellow clothed duck shouted in rage, launching Megavolt back into the mutant plant. "Which one of you gave it away?! It's probably that stupid clown! Still hiding from me like a coward" he growled in a low, very aggressive voice while looking around the room and punching a box or two. "No, boss! It's him were talking about! Quackerjack!" Liquidator tried to explain as he crawled out from under the fridge, cowardly moving closer to the other teammates. 

"What? You're afraid of that dope? You've gotta be kidding me" Negaduck started to laugh at the quivering trio, waving his hand dismissively at them before walking over to the work table. "Don't you understand!? Quackerjack makes toys! You give away toys on christmas! And we got a text before, saying he got some very special gifts for us!" Bushroot sputtered out as he ran behind the others and kept shaking in terror. "Yeah! And we have no idea what's in store! WE NEED TO PREPARE FOR HIS ASSAULT!!!" the rat panicked rather quickly as he waved his arms in the air. "He could be here any sec-" as the water man began his part of the explanation, the loud sound of a door being smashed open was heard, followed with a shout of "I'M HEEEERE~!". 

The team flew together into a big, fearful hug and shivered hard enough for the sound of their shuddering to be painfully clear. The boss of the team just shook his head and looked at them annoyed, but in slight amusement. From around the corner, Quackerjack emerged with the biggest grin on his face, two small gift boxes and one larger one. "Geez you guys! If you were all so cold, why didn't you wear a jacket or something? WOOH HA HA!" he laughed at them all and walked over to the table, placing the gifts on it while ignoring the angry duck's protests. "O-oh! You know! It's cooler without them!" Liquidator tried to act casual while pushing the other two aside, not wanting to embarrass himself more than necessary. "Anyways! … W-what'cha got there?" he then asked as he kept a distance between himself and the most likely very deadly gifts. 

"OH! You mean your awesome christmas presents?! Yeah! That's what I got!" the jester told his friend cheerfully as he bounced from foot to foot, jingling his bells about with the bouncing of his hat. "Oh wow! Quacks! Th-that's… so nice of you! C-can't wait for tomorrow!" Bushroot said with a very nervous laugh, rubbing his hands together in some sort of attempt to keep himself calm and away from running out of the room immediately. 

"AAAAAW! But I can't wait for TOMORROW! Can't you open them now?! I hear that some countries celebrate christmas eve" Quackerjack said in his usual ever-changing tone, going from a whine to a more smug sounding voice. "Yeah. Go ahead! Why don't we see what you all got?" Negaduck said in his fake nice voice, curling his finger around the present ribbon. "Oh! Um… that sounds… really nice! B-but… but… um…" now the man was at a loss of words, trying to think of an excuse to not be made into a duck salad. "W-well… we… don't have a gift for you yet! How can we open your… probably great gifts when we don't have anything to give you?" Megavolt chimed in as he ran over to their friend and put an arm around him, trying his very best to convince him that they really did want to open it and not rather be on the other side of the earth.

"Oh. No no no! It's ok! I'd much rather just get the gift of seeing someone finally smile when I give them something! If the kids won't appreciate my toys, at least you guys can enjoy my gifts!" The toymaker said in a rather happy voice, seemingly just out for his teammates' appreciation. This just made the electric man start to sweat and become very flustered, stuttering out an incoherent excuse. Quackerjack just stared at him in pure excitement. 

"Aaaaah… I guess the cat's out of the bag. We couldn't keep it secret for long" Liquidator sighed disappointed as he moved over to his two buddies, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and giving them a wink each. "Wh-what? What secret? Are you guys keeping something from me?!" The now curious jester asked as he looked at the three, getting himself worked up about what this thing could possibly be. "You see, Quacks, we got a great deal on a collective gift we wanted to give you tomorrow, at the mall. But if you want to do the gift giving today, we have no other choice but to pay for the express shipping!" the previous business man said in his usual "trying to sell you something" way, putting his hands on the other's shoulders. "Oh please" the yellow suited villain groaned and rubbed his beak, unable to believe they thought this ridiculous lie would work.

"REALLY?! Oh goodie! I'm sorry I made you spoil it, but I'm so curious now! Can we go immediately?". Of course, when the lie was told to the bluntest shovel in the cutlery drawer, then it wasn't as unbelievable. "Yeah! Of course we can! It will let us do some last minute christmas shopping!" Bushroot said with a grin, putting his vine arm around the oblivious toymaker and leading him outside, the rat and dog following close after them. "HEY! WHERE DO YOU FOOLS THINK YOU'RE GOING?! WE HAVE A HEIST TO PLAN!!!" the ever angry Negaduck screamed after his four subordinates, waving his arms around as he ran after them, only to be buried under a big pile of snow as soon as he walked outside.

Walking through the mall, Quackerjack was following his friends while doing cartwheels and handstands. "Oh boy, oh boy! I just love surprises! Can't we walk faster?!" he giggled as he pushed himself off the ground and landed right back on his feet. "Um… Liquidator? Do we even have a surprise? Please tell me we do! I don't wanna become toy stuffing!" Megavolt was still panicking and sparking while he grabbed a hold of the dripping dog, shaking him around before getting smacked in the face with a frying pan made out of water. "Not to fear, my friends! I have a deal prepared for our cooky friend to keep him busy and with satisfaction 100% guaranteed!" he told the two beside him before he leaned in and started whispering his idea to them.

As they walked around the corner, the team stopped their purple and red friend, to his surprise. "OH! Are we here now?!" he asked them as he jumped up and down, clapping his hands in excitement. "My friend! Are you feeling bored during christmas eve? Feeling the need for some fun? Try… The ARCADE!" Liquidator announced as he moved out of the way, gesturing towards the huge paradise of video games. As soon as Quackerjack saw it, his smile immediately dropped and his face morphed into anger. "THE ARCADE!?! Are you kidding me?! Video games are mindless dribble! They are destroying the toy industry! And you're saying my gift is playing some GAMES at the ARCADE?!" he started yelling at the three while pulling his hat down in rage and frustration. 

"Oh of course not! We know that you hate this type of stuff! Which is why we brought you here!" Bushroot told the angry, jingling jester while he was throwing a temper tantrum. The duck then looked confused about that response, not sure how that made any sort of sense. "Don't tell me you didn't bring any toys with you! How were you planning to wreck the place without them?" Megavolt asked with a smug sounding voice, raising his eyebrows at him and smirking like a proud bastard. Quackerjack looked a little confused still for a moment until he connected the dots, getting a huge, eager grin on his beak. He quickly pulled out his wind up teeth and ran over towards the other guys, giving them a big hug before letting them go and saying "Oh thank you guys! This is such a wonderful gift! I'll be a couple of hours! It's PLAYTIME!!!". Then he was off to cause chaos.

The three looked as he ran off, waving and smiling while wishing him a merry christmas until he was out of view. They then let out a big sigh and sank down on the floor, as if melting from the release of tension. "Ok. So! Now that he's distracted and happy, we can finally get something ready for the assault" Megavolt sighed and moved his glance over towards Liquidator. "By the way, couldn't he just come here and destroy the place himself?" he then asked as they all had the moment to just collect themselves and come back to their senses. "Of course, but he doesn't need to know that" the dog muttered as he got up from his little puddle and helped clean off some dust from bushroot, who spoke up soon thereafter. "Alright. Here is the idea. We will all need to find a way to prevent these toys from attacking us! They will most likely be very advanced or dangerous! So we will need the best of the best stuff to stop them!".

"Yes! And I know exactly what I'll get for this!" the rat proclaimed confidently as he walked to the front of the group, pointing towards a map of the shopping center. "I will be going over to the appliance department and find the best CPU disruptor a man can buy!" he said confidently and put his hands on his hips in a matching demeanor. Bushroot walked over and took a glance of the map, extending his arm and pointing at the only plant store in the mall. "I'll go and see if I can find a good plant that I can mutate". "Well then, I guess I will have to… hmm… I guess going to the pet store to find some vicious fish could be of help" Liquidator pointed at the pet store and left a big water droplet to run down the display. "Alright! We got a plan!" The sparking man exclaimed as he put his hand up, then pointed towards the rest of the mall and shouted "Now GO GO GO!". And with that, they scatter.

The plant scientist was glancing around in the gardening shop, browsing through the different flowers and plants. He deeply enjoyed all of the greenery inside the store. In particular, he was taken aback by a beautiful orchid, making a double take before taking a stop beside the purple seductress. “Why hello there, you gorgeous flora. Ah~ If only my hands weren't tied, i'd buy you in a heartbeat” he sighed and gently rubbed it's petals in a very flirty manner.

As Bushroot was having this rather intimate moment, an old duck was clearing his throat behind him, scaring the ever living crap out of him. "Excuse me, sir. I couldn't help but notice that you are a plant lover, just like myself. Are you looking for something specific?" he asked the now shaking plant man, correcting his glasses that were sliding down his beak.

"Oh! Yes! I'm looking for something… oh wow! Who is that?!" Bushroot interrupted himself as he saw this gorgeous tall blossom, right behind the old florist. "Ah! You mean ms. Antirrhinum! Or more commonly known, the snapdragon flower. She is a beauty, isn't she?" He perked up a bit as the green duck was gawking over this big red cute belle. "Ms? So she's single?" Bushroot sighed as he circled the snapdragon and was practically drooling all over it. "Ah… ha ha ha! As single as they get, I suppose" the florist chuckled before heading over and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, what was it that you needed?".

"Huh? Oh! Yes! Sorry! I… I need something more…" as the scientist got back on task, he leaned in towards the other duck, scanning the shop quickly before whispering "... vicious". The florist looked up at him with a rather confused look, seeming shocked about the request. "... oh! You meant something exotic, right! I have many fierce ladies in this store!" He laughed softly at him as he started wandering past him towards the exotic area of the store. "I'm sure we can find a gal to suit your needs!" He added on as he motioned towards the countless colorful plants.

"What? No! No I mean- like literally! Do you have a plant that could, completely theoretically, rip a robotic teddy bear with built in flamethrowers limb for limb? Or chew a killer fairy with a big chainsaw to bits?" Bushroot interrupted him as he tried to explain himself, without giving out too much information about his plan. Clearly doing well! The duck looked over at him and just stared for a few seconds, his face scrunching up into a nervous frown. "Well… we technically aren't allowed to have any sort of plants like that" he told him while starting to roll his fingers and sweat slightly, wiping it off as soon as he felt it roll down his forehead. "Please! You've got to have something even slightly… wait… technically?" the plant mutant then pointed out as he realized the strange wording. As he said that, the florist carefully glanced around the room, as if making sure no one else was in there at that very moment. "I might have someone you would like to meet… if you can keep a secret, that is" he whispered to Bushroot, who was quick to perk up and say "Oh of course. I am far from a narc, sir".

The duck looked around still as he approached a shelf full of seeds, making sure the coast was clear as he started pushing it out off the way to reveal a tough looking door. He quietly unlocked it and pulled his customer inside. As the villain was pulled into the dimly lit room, he was greeted with a bunch of very ravenous looking carnivorous plants. "Oh my goodness! A venus flytrap! Yellow pitcher plant! Cobra lily! AH, a Butterworth!" the awestruck scientist started ogling all the exotic, dangerous, man-eating plant life as he ran around the room like an excited kid on… well, christmas. "Yes. They aren't very legal to sell, but I can tell you are a lover of all plants, just like myself. But enough delaying! Let me introduce you to my precious Monica" the florist told the man, who was still adoring all the big scary vegetation, before walking over towards a large cup shaped flower with a big leaf over it's red, spiked rim. Bushroot gave away a gasp as he saw said plant and ran over to get a better look of it, gushing out "Is that… a tropical pitcher plant?! Oh wow, she's such a beauty! I'll take her! How much does $10 000 sound?! I can get you that if it means I can take such a sweet doll home with me~". He looked shocked at him, not able to believe the amazing offer given. He was practically seeing dollar bills as he reached his hand out and shook the other's hand in an immediate agreement. "Of course, sir! You got a deal! Let me write you down on a payment plan!" he told him as the plant man was still drooling over this beauty of a flower.

Inside the electrical appliance store, the rat was pushing a cart along and looking around at the boring SD cards and other computer parts that would be of no help to him when being run over by a life-sized toy train. Anxiety was starting to settle in on him as he scanned over the stuffed shelves, unable to focus on finding the disruptor he oh so needed when the constant thought of himself being tortured by adorable, crazed murder toys kept popping up in his mind. His eyes darted around, trying his very best to stay focused on finding the life-saving christmas miracle.

"Hello sir! How can I help you?" a nasally voice spoke up suddenly, earning a surprised scream from Megavolt who jumped back into a defensive position, doing some fake karate before he saw the nerdy looking teenage girl. Judging by her lanyard, he could tell she worked there. Giving her an annoyed grumble, he just grabbed ahold of his cart once more and muttered "I know more than YOU". The girl just watched him walk by and frowned a little bit, earning another annoyed comment from the rodent of "Stupid kids. Probably don't even realize what a genius they are undermining". 

"Dude! Are you that big, dangerous, evil supervillain, Megavolt?" another teen with long blond hair covering his face asked in a funky way, sounding like some sort of surfer-dude. Caught of guard, Megavolt only looked around in confusion, not sure whether he should confirm or deny that question. Unsure, he answered with a short and simple "... Yes?", wondering if he'd get thrown out or something. "Oh great! That means you must be smart!" the now relieved boy sighed as he grabbed a hold of the rat man and pulled him along towards the customer service counter. "W-Wait! Yes I am, but what do you need my intellect for?!" he asked baffled as he was dragged along towards a rather angry looking woman, standing beside a toaster that stood on the counter. 

"Well this lady just came in, yelling about how her toaster isn't toasting properly. I was wondering if you would be able to find the problem, dude" the teen asked as he looked at him in desperation, seemingly somewhat lost and frightened by the peeved of lady staring daggers at the two of them. Megavolt wasn't sure how he had gotten himself into this mess, so he just gave the boy a baffled raise of his eyebrow. He was about to say something to him, until the lady cut him off sharply. "Listen! I don't have time for this! I want my toaster fixed YESTERDAY! It doesn't even TOAST! It barely warms my bread to room temperature! I have to wait an hour for warm bread!" she complained to him, completely ignoring the employee that was supposed to help her. The man groaned in annoyance, not wanting to deal with this when he was meer hours away from his childish DOOM! "Ma'am. I truly and  genuinely do not care about your-" before he could explain how much her technical issue didn't matter to him, she snapped at him once more. "Why are you here anyways?! I asked for a MA-NA-GER! Not some whacky, dirty, off-his-rockers criminal! I want to speak with the manager right now so he can call the police to arrest that villain and so HE can be fired!" she started demanding to whichever one of them that would oblige her, practically frothing at the mouth as she was also hitting the counter. 

Alright. That's it. He was ticked. This was now personal.

"... How about we just fix that toaster right up for you instead. And let me do it for free, since you asked sooooo nicely!" Megavolt said through gritted teeth, sounding very condescending to her while he was grabbing her toaster and taking it to a table that was already full of stuff, like paperwork and small tech parts. Shoving it all off the table, he slammed the toaster down and started disassembling it right away, grabbing a few parts around him to add into this household appliance. The woman gave a smug smile at the villain, who was now doing as she had demanded, meanwhile the employee looked on in surprise and awe as he was skillfully fixing this thing like it was nothing. After a few moments of tinkering, the toaster was reassembled once again and Megavolt walked over to the service counter, placing it down in front of the self-satisfied customer. "Now, let's test it out, shall we?" he suggested with a smarmy grin as he pulled out a piece of toast he had, for totally logical reasons, and put it into the toaster. Only a few seconds after the rat had started it, smoke started to seep out of the two openings on the top. And only a moment after that, flames erupted in two ginormous streams of fire. This made the woman start to scream and hurriedly scurry away out of the store. "I hope you like your bread like your coffee! HAHAHA!" Megavolt laughed and held his stomach as the fire started to calm down a bit, letting two burnt pieces of toast pop up with a delightful PING. 

"Whoa… that was awesome!" the nerdy girl from before shouted out astonished as she watched the customer bump into people on her way out of the shopping center. "Yeah, dude! She's been bothering us with complaints and threats to fire us all for months! Thanks for getting rid of her!" the dopey boy said as he grabbed a hold of the villain's hand and shook it harshly, making him get red in the face and chuckle from the flattery. "Well… it is what we criminals do best!" he admitted and rubbed his neck. The girl walked over to the two and joined in in the hand shaking, crossing his arms over each other. "If there is anything we can do to thank you, you just let us know!" she offered him. This made him light up a bit, realizing that this might work perfectly in his favor. "Actually… I am looking for something rather hard to come by. If you happen to have a CPU disruptor anywhere in the store, I would be more than happy to take it off your hands!". "Well… we do have some more high-tech stuff in the back, but we aren't supposed to sell that stuff" the teen said as he looked back towards the backdoor, considering if it would be a good idea or not. "Well you're not selling it if you just give it to me for the favor, now are you?" Megavolt tried to explain to the employees, giving them a "Hmm?" and wiggle of his eyebrows. The two looked at each other, thought about it for a moment, then said in unison "That makes sense!" as they both then raced to the backdoor to get his present. Maybe this christmas wouldn't turn out so horrible after all!

Man. The pet store really wasn't anything to write home about. Liquidator couldn't believe how boring and unappealing it was. More like appalling. It was a wonder they even sold a simple little goldfish with such an unmarketable image. He almost felt like turning right around and head straight out to accept his doom. But he decided against it and just sucked it up, heading inside and looking around at the animals. The dog decided that he didn't have time to wander around aimlessly and try to find a fish that would be dangerous enough, so he headed up to the cash register to find someone who could help him. "Excuse me, ma'am! I require your assistance to find a most exotic, threatening pet that I could adopt!" he spoke up in his usual, classy salesman tone, trying to get the attention of the bored looking lady by the register. "Yeah, Yeah. Sure. Brittney can take care of you. BRITTNEY! A CUSTOMER NEEDS HELP!" she yelled towards the backdoor, prompting a pretty, tall lady to walk out and say "Ok. I'm on it" in a valley girl accent while chewing some gum.

"... Now I see the selling point" liquidator muttered under his nonexistent breath, scanning the employee as she walked over to him and greeted him. "Hiya. So what kind of pet are you looking for, sir?. "Well I'm glad you asked! Because what I am looking for is none other than a predator of the aquatiq variety!" he told the pet shop worker as he moved over to her, extending his body to be on her left, as well as her right. But she didn't seem to care at all, blowing a bubble with her gum as she just said "yeah, sure" and started leading him towards the aquarium section. As she was walking along with him, another customer walked up beside them and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me! But I was wondering about this hamster. I already own a male hamster, will it be ok to have another in the same cage?" the young man asked as he pointed towards a couple of hamster cages. She just looked over at him confused, chewing her gum and grumbling a nonchalant "uuuh… I don't know" before turning to walk away again. She just left Liquidator stunned as he watched her walk away, not giving a single care about the customer. Like, yeah, he didn't care about his customers when he sold water, but you need to at least pretend to care or have a captivating and appealing attitude so you can make more sales. Groaning, he decided to pick up the ball she had just dropped. "Hello sir! Sorry about the laziness of the staff! But let me tell you that no! It is not a good idea to put two male hamsters in the same cage. BUT! It is very rewarding to take care of more than one hamster, as it is stated by professionals that it helps with restlessness! So I'd suggest you buy a second cage for the hamster you want! There are a few high quality ones over there across from the hamsters!" he informed the surprised man, who seemed to be eating up everything he was told, just nodding and saying "Oh! Ok!" before walking off. "Remember! The more it costs, the better it is!" he added on before leaving to find the useless employee again.

As Liquidator found the clueless girl again, she had once again been stopped by another customer, a little girl who had a puppy following close after her. "Excuse me miss. I don't know what food I should give Jasper. What do you think I should buy?" she asked in a sugary sweet voice, making the lady just glance down at her and blow another bubble with her gum. "I dunno. Dog food?" she just huffed before continuing to leave another customer behind. Facepalming himself, Liquidator quickly moves over and taps the girl on her shoulder. "Hi there, little lady! Ignore that big unhelpful lady! She doesn't know anything! If you are looking for good dog food, you should buy the ones with the big "approved" seal on it! If it has that, it means it will be good for him!" the villain said in an overly friendly way as he pointed towards the pet food section. The little girl smiled brightly and started pulling at her dog's leash, running off to find that good quality food.

This kept happening as he was attempting to keep up with the employee, person wants help buying stuff, lady blows them off, Liquidator has to take over and use his sales pitches to make a good sale.

"What is the best toy for my cat?"

"It will love the bell and feather on a string! The stick is made to not snap!"

"Are these vitamins good for my dog?"

"That's a no go! Four out of five specialists would suggest these higher quality vitamins with loads more vitamins in it for your pet!"

"My bird won't stop freaking out!"

"Yikes! Sounds like it is time to expand her cage! Trust me, bigger cage means less panic from your bird!"

After a few more quick sales, the man was tilting against a few aquariums and panting lightly, feeling exhausted from all the talking and pitching. It was amazing that this place was not burned to the ground by the sheer laziness of the staff. He was probably the only help anyone had ever gotten at this crappy store. The employee finally stopped in front of a tank of fish, motioning towards the clownfish swimming inside. This made Liquidator fall silent and just stare at her with a blank gaze. "... So how many fishes did you want?" she asked in a totally clueless voice, just staring back at him. "THIS ISN'T A PREDATOR!!!" he yelled in her face and started boiling from the immeasurable amount of rage this brought him. The employee just looked at him, asking "what's a predator?" cluelessly. The two just stared for a quiet second before the lady just takes out a ring of keys and throws them into Liquidators body. "Here. I gotta leave early today, so please lock up for me" she said dismissively as she just walked towards the front of the store to leave.

He just looked at her shocked as she, just like every other customer, left him alone and confused. Did she really mistake him for someone who worked there because he did her work better than her? 

…

Well at least he didn't have to pay for what he needed anymore.

After a few hours in the mall, the four villains were walking home together, with the jester laughing giddily after his little bit of complete chaos. "Hoohoohehehee! I haven't had this much fun in a while! This is the best christmas yet!" he cheered as he was bouncin in front the trio that were carrying their wrapped presents. He then moved to put an arm around Megavolt, who gave him a nervous grin and moved the bag with the gift box in to carry it with one hand. The air around them, despite the expectation of impending doom, was actually rather cheerful. It was mostly due to the unrestrained joy of Quackerjack, who was just radiating christmas cheer with his excited laughter and singing. "Really? Christmas carols? I thought you were above that?" the rat poked at him with his elbow, snickering as he teased the one walking beside him. "Eh, shut up, Sparky! Can't a man feel the christmas spirit for one?" he snapped back while trying to hold back a happy giggle, wanting to appear somewhat tough. Liquidator and Bushroot looked at each other and gave an amused smile.

And soon enough, they arrive at the hideout. They all strolled inside and placed down their gift boxes under a christmas tree disguise that they had for the heist that was planned for the evening after. It was close enough to a regular tree, so why not? This made the colorful duck jump around even more and squeal excitedly. He was tapping his feet restlessly as he looked over towards his own gifts, wanting so bad to give them to his friends already. This did not go unnoticed, as Bushroot watched his eyes stare longingly in the direction of his own christmas gifts, feeling that nervousness return as he remembered why they even got the "gifts" to begin with. Looking over at the other two, they both took notice of his questioning look and gave a nod, indicating that they were ready for the chaos. "Hey… Quacks. Didn't you have something for us?" he asked with a forced grin, trying his best to not ruin the jester's joy. 

Quackerjack gasped in excitement, not even answering the plant before he rushed off towards the work table to grab the gifts. Bushroot moved over to the others and they all formed a huddle. "Alright! Get ready for the onslaught! Keep close to the tree and hold the box at a distance!" Liquidator whispered to his fellow villains, earning a determined nod from them both. "Alright! Get ready!" the cheery voice of their four team member yelle, causing the huddle to break and the three of them stand innocently beside each other. 

Quackerjack walked over, presenting the biggest present first. Everyone prayed that they wouldn't be the one to recieve the gift. "Bushroot! This one is for you!". Curses. That's just his luck. But still, the plant duck took a deep breath and accepted the rather heavy box, getting even more scared when holding the potential "pandora's box" in his hands. Swallowing harshly, he reached out and pulled the ribbon off, causing the other two to immediately hide behind whatever was the closest. He recoiled back away from the box, expecting to be jumped as soon as that lid was lifted. 

But… nothing happened. That almost shocked him more than anything. So he curiously peeked inside and saw… a bag… a bag of fertilizer. It felt almost disappointing to get something so dull, instead of immeadiate death. But lifting the bag out of the box, he got a better look at it and realized something. "Wait a second! This is-!". "That's right! I got this fertilizer from a lab with some real knuckleheads for scientists working there! It's not even released to the public yet! And now it never will be! It's all yours!" the jester explained as he was hovering really close the the stunned man.

The fertilizer… it was HIS fertilizer! His project that he thought was lost after… the incident that made him into his mutant self. "Wow… wait, knucklehead scientists?" he then questioned, recognizing the description as his old labmates. "Oh yeah! Those two! I took care of them, don't worry! They seemed to really like throwing that football around! So I thought it'd be fun to try and be the ball for a change!" Quackerjack laughed amused as he seemed rather proud of himself. Bushroot just stared at him, tears starting to well up in his eyes before he hugged tightly onto the fertilizer and started wailing like a baby. "WAAAAAAH! THANK YOU! THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS I'VE EVER HAAAAAAD!!!" he cried out and sat down on the floor with his precious bag.

Quackerjack looked shocked for a short moment before looking genuinely happy about the over emotional reaction he got. "Heeheehee… glad you like it" he muttered before grabbing the next box and walking over to Megavolt, who had come out of hiding and was just staring in baffled surprise. His gawking was interrupted as there was a rather small gift box shoved into his face. Accepting it without a word, he just looked back at Liquidator unsure, as if asking if it was safe. He just gave the rat a shrug and looked equally puzzled. 

Megavolt just sighed and decided to go for it, ripping off the ribbon and opening the box. Inside was a USB stick, a normal old USB stick. He picked it up and held it up to the duck. "Ok… I'll bite. What is this?". Quackerjack looked rather smug as he leaned into his face and explained "Well, Sparky. This USB contains countless of blueprints from an inventor, who works for none other than S.H.U.S.H. You don't realize how surprisingly easy it was to get! I bet she doesn't even realize it's gone!". The rat's eyes widened as he heard that. A USB… with S.H.U.S.H level blueprints?! There had got to be some really advanced stuff in that tiny little stick! All the knowledge he could ever desire! He even forgot to yell at the duck for calling him Sparky.

All he could do was sputter random sounds while trying to find any sort of words to say. Megavolt ended up just pulling Quackerjack into a hug and spinning around in a moment of bliss, rambling "ohmygodthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!". The duck gained a bright blush to his cheeks as he was held in the air by his friend, just allowing it to happen as this was just the type of reaction he had hoped for. Didn't expect it at all, but he had hoped. "Oh geez! Sparky! Be cool, pal! You're embarrassing me!" he laughed in a flustered manner, trying to hide how much he's enjoying the appreciation and failing immensely. 

He managed to get loose after a minute or so and took the last, tiny present and started making his way over to Liquidator. The dog looked very sceptical, as suppose to the previous expression of fear. "So… seems you really made a great sale to those two, huh?" he commented to the clown, who didn't say anything back and just wiggled his eyebrows at him. "... Well they are nerds, they get all excited over their… nerdy interests. But I'm a customer that isn't easily impressed. So don't expect any hugs or tears" he then said in a defensive tone and crossed his arms. Quackerjack only grinned wider and held out the present to him, inching it closer and closer to his face while letting out a quiet squeak. 

The water man just sighed and snatched the gift out of his hands, starting to unwrap it so he could just get it over with. And inside was just a piece of paper. That was it. His face dropped and he looked up at the duck. But he just kept grinning and darted his eyes between Liquidator and the paper. Rolling his eyes, Liquidator just picked it up and read over it. As he did, he realized it was a receipt from the local grocery store. "St. Canard convenience store. Wow! You really went above and beyond. Look at all that Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water you purcha- w… WAIT WHAT?!" he had to do a double take as he read over the receipt, not sure he read that right. But it was right there, in black and white, over $10 000 worth of his own brand of water.

"I know you better than you think" Quackerjack giggled smugly as he bounced over towards the leaking fridge and threw it open, revealing it to be filled to the brim with water bottles. Liquidator just stared in awe and with his jaw laying in the floor. Quacks picked it back up as he put an arm around his shoulder. "I know that you do love a good sale. But what do you like better? MAKING a good sale, of course! So what better christmas present for THE liquidator than to steal money from the bank and buy every last one of your water with it? That way, the ENTIRE CITY OF ST. CANARD has bought your stuff!" he informed the shocked man that he was hanging on while staring at his face, awaiting to see a reaction from him. 

He just stared at all of his bottled water, processing everything his teammate just told him. That was probably the only thing he could have ever wished for, success for his company. A singular tear fell from his eye, though it could have just been more water, and gave away a small, happy smile. "Wow… thank you, man" he just muttered.

Quackerjack let out a happy laugh as he started jumping around his friends with so much excitement. "Ho ho ho ha haa! I knew it! I knew you'd like my presents! Now, let's check what's inside yours!" he cheered curiously as he then pranced over to the other's presents under the fake tree. "Wait" Liquidator muttered surprised. "Our… presents?!" Megavolt gulped and started sweating, realizing what a mistake they had made with their assumption. "W-WAIT! Quacks! Don't open them!" Bushroot yelled as he started running over towards the duck to stop him. But it was too late as they got to watch him suddenly get shot with a laser that sent a current of electricity through his body. They then got to witness him being attacked by a dozen piranha before he was grabbed by the big pitcher plant that tried to eat him whole. 

The three, after watching this while grimacing and cringing, then proceeded to run over and save him from any further pain. It took a few minutes, but they got him free from the fish and plant, sitting him down on the floor with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. "...Not to be rude, since I got such a nice present earlier today, but you guys aren't the best gift givers, are ya?" Quacks asked the others with an awkward grin, trying to not ruin the happy mood he had achieved earlier. But they just gave him an embarrassed look and rubbed their necks, feeling equally as awkward as him. "Listen… We're sorry about all that. We didn't mean to cause you so much pain" Bushroot explained as he sat down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We didn't expect your presents to be… actually really really nice. We thought you'd get us one of your demented toys that would try to kill us!" Megavolt told him as he also plonked himself down on the floor on his other side, rolling his fingers nervously. Liquidator didn't say anything, he just sat himself down and looked at him somewhat apologetically. 

"Waitwaitwait! Are you telling me that you expected me to basically prank you by giving you deadly toys that would rip you to shreds?" the clown asked in surprise as he looked between all of the Fearsome Four with a confused expression on his face. The three just looked away from him and tried to find some sort of justification. But they just felt kinda bad about how they had been acting during the day when the gifts they were given ended up being really good and considerate. What justification could they have that didn't ruin the mood further?

As the jester kept darting his eyes between everyone, his eyes started to water and he began sniffing softly. Bushroot took notice and quickly tried to console him. "H-hey now! W-w-we didn't mean anything by-". Before he could finish his sentence, Quackerjack stretched his arms out and embraced all of his team with a tearful sob. "YOU GUYS! IT'S SO SWEET OF YOU TO THINK I COULD SOMETHING SO CRULE AND EVIL ON CHRIIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAS!!!" he wailed while crushing the three grown men in his colorful arms. 

They all looked down at him pained as their chests were caving in from the force of the love they were given. But they smiled anyways and chuckled at the silly duck. "Geez, Quackers! I never thought any of us would ever have an actually good christmas, let alone us having one together! But you did it! You gave us a truly merry christmas!" Megavolt sighed happily and reached a hand out to rub the crying man's jangling head. It made him giggle through his tears and let go of them all, just grinning thankfully at the lot.

"GET THESE LITTLE MONSTERS AWAY FROM ME!!!" Negaduck yelled as he ran past his team, being pursued by a group of rather scary looking toys as he's chased out of the hide out. Quackerjack just looked confused as they disappeared out the door. "Weird… I thought he'd love a bit of violence!" he said, seemingly surprised by the turn of events. The other guys just looked at each other quietly for a second, before bursting out in laughter at the brief scene. That years christmas turned from wonderful to fantastic.

[shewasanamericangirl]

ok it’s time for me to FUCKING SCREAM about kamen rider zi-o episode 35 because there was a lot of good shit in it! many many screencaps under the cut.

so our dramatic opening scene right away made me think of kamen rider ryuki--a convict doing time for murder, frustrated with being stuck in a cell, receives a surprise visit from a shady individual offering the power of a kamen rider.

hora and tsukuyomi both have such dope manicures? can 2068 be all that bad if standards of living are still high enough to have pretty nails?

then woz begins the intro IN THIS PINK SWAN BOAT spying on yuko and tetsuya

apropos of practically nothing. he’s in the cute pink swan boat, by himself, watching a cute couple from a distance like a creepy loser.

now, im used to woz being Dead Serious About Everything but idk if ive ever seen a phrase like “first love” uttered with such a sense of gloom.

junichiro will make such a good bride someday. preferably mine. marry me junichiro.

this whole apple pie scene is the CUTEST SHIT EVER. i love that geiz and tsukuyomi are so close that he knows silly stuff like this?? and look at that HAPPY “i just took a bite of amazing apple pie” look on her face

look at this beautiful girl enjoying her pie. blessed image. tsukuyomi is such a cutie. so kissable.

look at this beautiful boy enjoying his pie. he is barely holding back the urge to stand up and IWAE. do it, woz! give junichiro’s baking the recognition it deserves!

the forbidden ship is alive and well 👀

he probably gets too little sleep as it is with all these nerds’ shenanigans day after day. let junichiro sleep!

sougo, trying to sound profound, utterly destroys the mood

woz has been slamming that pie so hard that he starts choking when sougo brings up the subject of love

geiz: unable to process that this actual baby boy child has, in fact, discovered girls at the young age of 19 years

tsukuyomi: supportively tending to her verklempt friend who has inadvertently inhaled his pie

look at this fucking chad. sougo, nobody’s questioning that you have time for romance. all you do is sleep and be a kamen rider.

geiz being surprisingly genre savvy for a defrosted ice queen

sougo: smitten kitten

junichiro, geiz, and tsukuyomi: “that’s...it?”

woz: got over his coughing fit sometime during the flashback and is now SHOVELING that pie

sougo confirmed neko. im sorry fellow shippers, you’ve been writing your zi-o smutfics all wrong.

silence junichiro you are in the presence of a certified pussy slayer

this screenshot is good for many reasons

woz acting all chummy while sougo looks awkward as hell

the pie stuck to both their faces

you can barely see it in this picture but the big blob of pie stuck to woz’s right thumb

more than a few men have fallen too im sure right woz?

oma zi-o confirmed manwhore

yuko knows what’s up; if you’re gonna be queen, you gotta start with a full on spa treatment so you look your hottest.

yuko is another character with unusual powers that don’t come from being a kamen rider

superhuman sense of smell (along with the ability to identify slight nuances in scent)

super strength (she stopped that car with her foot)

exceptional observational/inductive ability

i love when she points

me, easily distracted by colorful shit

i fear for our future if the overlord of space-time is so easily won over by a good chin scritchin’

boy oh boy do i want them to kiss and boy oh boy do they hate each other

kanesaki practiced for this

no sougo. no no no. do not be this dumb. i’m not saying she’s guilty--i don’t think she is--but a crush you had back in elementary school is by no means evidence that yuko would not commit murder. did she or did she not attempt to kill that lawyer right in front of you?

i feel you woz...my crush is thirsty for yuko too...

thank you, geiz, for reality checking sougo

more cooler point this time

sougo idk if you’re thinking with your dick chin or just being a fucking pollyanna but you need to snap out of it right this minute. yuko is dangerous. im pretty sure she doesn’t even remember who you are.

listen to geiz! not only does he know a thing or two about vendettas, but he looks cool pointing at people too!

hers is a good face and does not deserve such violence

sooner or later, yuko is going to wind up somewhere that she isn’t close to a manhole. when that happens, she’s gonna be in trouble!

add retrocognition to the list of sougo’s abilities. i wonder how it’s triggered? but enough of that. EARTH TO SOUGO, GEIZ NEEDS YOUR HELP

something something, ginga looks cool as fuck but i didn’t wind up taking any screencaps. i’m digging his retro-ish design, deep purple, and pretty attack SFX. can’t wait for woz to get that power hohoho

sougo could you please use your words instead of just yanking your friends into your fusion? that’s not cool my guy.

the synced movements between trinity’s suit actor and the three personalities within is awesome. now if only they were in better sync with each other.

you said it girl

error? im glad they let yuko’s actress change into some sensible shoes for the purpose of stomping around on rocks 😂

and now, the preview! why all the groveling? zi-o squad and time jackers alike? weird to see the future king kneeling lower than anyone else, even given how highly he clearly thinks of yuko. it feels almost sacrilegious to see black woz bowing down before someone other than sougo, too. 👀 not surprised that hora and geiz aren’t feeling too reverent.

sougo, if yuko needed an umbrella, she’d just kick up another manhole cover and hold it over her head.

kiva, schmiva--we get ginga woz AND an iwae next week! yaHOO!

and some thoughts:

i’m usually reallllly not fond of when a character we’d never heard of last week suddenly has a main character crushing on them (her, always a her) this week but i like how it’s been handled so far. junichiro, geiz, and tsukuyomi are very aware that sougo still fixating on his first crush from childhood is Not Healthy (and a clear symptom of how friggin lonely sougo has been.) woz’s response to the matter seems kind of mixed--maybe he’s more focused on when he gets to eat his next slice of pie than his overlord’s love life, lol

i wasn’t sure what to think of yuko, but i’m enjoying her arc so far! she’s a determinator villain who’s clearly got an intriguing backstory that led her to see herself as the heroine of her own story.

intriguing, too, that woz seems to have time traveled to investigate said backstory, if his (hilarious) stakeout during the introduction is any indication.

and then ginga came out of nowhere. okay then...he seems like a pretty badass adversary! i wonder how zi-o and friends will be able to counter his power? or has trinity perhaps been weakened by the discord between the three?

as always, i look forward to what happens next! in the meantime, i have five episodes of ex-aid left, so by the time the next zi-o subs show up i will probably have finished watching!

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 020

This is the Knife Lady episode.    I mean, there’s other stuff in this one, but come on.    I’m not gonna bury the lede here.

Okay, so last time, Goku had to get used to the higher gravity on King Kai’s planet, so King Kai had him chase Bubbles around until he could catch him.    The last episode made it look like it only took one afternoon, but in this episode the narrator says it took him like three weeks, which seems fishy to me.   I feel like Toei messed up, one way or another.   Of course, there’s really no good way to mark the passage of time on this planet, so there’s no telling. 

Anyway, the Bubbles exercise was in the manga.   This time however, it’s a filler episode, and Goku’s next challenge is to chase a cricket-looking creature named Gregory.   Gregory is a filler guy, but he appears in just about every King Kai scene from here on out.   It’s weird how seamlessly they worked him in, and then you read the manga and he’s just not there.  

King Kai says that the idea here is to improve Goku’s speed under the high gravity, so I’m pretty sure the only thing different about this exercise is that Gregory is faster than Bubbles.   Also, Goku has to hit him with a big heavy hammer, which will only slow him down more.  What could go wrong?

Yeah...

Meanwhile, on Earth, Gohan’s still improving under Piccolo’s training, but he gets knocked down a cliff anyway, and Piccolo orders him to climb back up.   For some reason he starts shouting random nouns at Piccolo and tells him to do the next one.   I guess this is some sort of game? 

On Kami’s Lookout, everyone has to wear weighted training clothes like Kami made Goku wear.    Krillin looks awesome in his, Yamcha looks a little off, and Tien and Chiaotzu look really weird.  

Why are they letting Chiaotzu take a breather?  

Yajirobe bites Krillin on the ass.  Hey, save that for the Saiyans, tiger.

Later, Kami just tells the boys to leave and pursue their own training down below.  This whole thing feels like a total ripoff.   They had a year to prepare for the Saiyans and it took like four months just to get everyone up here, and then he tells him he won’t teach them anything, and now he’s sending them back with like three months to go.

Elsewhere, Master Roshi asks his sister, Fortuneteller Baba to look into the future and tell him how things turn out after the Saiyans arrive.   Baba gives it a go, but she can’t forsee anything, good or bad.   In the dub, she tells him “The Earth has no future!” which I always liked because it completely flies in the face of what she foresaw in the finale of Dragon Ball, when she peeked ahead to DBZ.   Things looked pretty rosy before, but now all bets are off.    The fate of the world is balancing on the head of a pin.  

Okay, that covers all the other stuff, let’s go back to Goku.    King Kai has them all break for lunch, and these two guys look adorable.   Not sure why Bubbles is wearing a hat... oh, wait, yes I do know.    While Goku was chasing Gregory one of them zipped right over the back of his head and shaved a stripe up his scalp, so he must be wearing the hat to cover it up.  

Goku asks King Kai what he knows about the Saiyans, on account of he is one, and he’s fighting two more later, so he kind of needs to know all he can.    King Kai offers to tell him the story, so Goku pulls up a chair for him.

This whole account was filler, so some of it has been retconned or just plain contradicted over the years, but it still forms the basis of a lot of Saiyan lore.   For example, this episode introduces the Tuffles as a second intelligent species that shared Planet Vegeta with the Saiyans.   The Tuffle concept would be used later in the OAV “Plan to Eradicate the Super Saiyans” as well as the Baby arc in Dragon Ball GT.   

What never seemed to catch on, on the other hand, was the idea that the Tuffles were much smaller than Saiyans (or humans for that matter) due to the intense gravity of the planet.   The implication here is that the Saiyans are only as big as they are because they’re so strong, although I think later sources established that they emigrated to this planet from somewhere else.    At any rate, the Tuffle characters in GT and “Plan to Eradicate” always looked full-sized to me.  

Basically, the Tuffles ruled most of the planet, and they had all sorts of advanced technology to sustain their larger population.  

On the other hand, the Saiyans lived in primitive dwellings, with a smaller territory and a smaller population.

King Kai’s flashback also puts them all in animal skins.   They sort of look like a cross between B-movie cavemen and artwork depicting early figures from the Bible.   

Here’s Knife Lady again.   She doesn’t do anything, but she looks awesome, and this episode is really the first solid evidence that female Saiyans existed.   That may seem silly to younger or newer fans, but I’ll bet there were a lot of fans in 1989 who figured female Namekians were going to show up, and that got shot to hell.   You just never know.

At some point, the Saiyans got strong enough or bold enough to start attacking the Tuffles outright.  Again, note the size difference.

The Tuffles invented weapons to fight back, so they weren’t completely helpless.   I always find this guy kind of ironic, because he looks a lot like Gohan in the Buu Saga, and he’s wearing a scouter, so he looks way more like a Saiyan than a Tuffle here.   I think the intent was to suggest that the Saiyans got their scouters from the Tuffles, but that won’t hold up in future episodes.   Besides, how could the Saiyans make use of Tuffle scouters?  They would be too small to wear.

The problem for the Tuffles was that the Saiyans would turn into giant apes at the sight of the full moon.   This only happened once every eight years on Planet Vegeta, but it was often enough to turn the tide of the war.

Now, I feel like a dope, because this is the first time I ever watched this story in the original Japanese, and I see now that a lot of things were different when the story was translated to English.   The dub implied a relatively short war, lasting maybe a few years, or a generation at most, and ending on a single full moon.   The Japanese version tells of a much longer transition from Tuffle to Saiyan rule, with the Tuffles barely able to hold the line and the Saiyans steadily gaining ground every eight years.   This makes it sound like it took a long time for the Saiyans to take control of the planet, and that would explain the fuzzy booties, among other things.   I always found King Kai’s story a little unsatisfying for only covering the last decade or so of Saiyan history, but it looks like he was actually going back a little further than that.

Also interesting: the term “Arcosian” was a dub-ism.   I just always took it for granted that these robed aliens had a name in the Japanese script, but they don’t.   Fans have adopted “Arcosian” as a name for Frieza’s species, although the terms “Ice-jin”, and “Frost Demon” have also been used, along with others I’m probably not aware of.    It makes sense, seeing as how these “Arcosians” are basically doing in this flashback what Frieza and King Cold actually did.   

On the other hand, now that I see the context of this flashback, I start to wonder if it makes more sense for the Saiyans to have overrun the Tuffles a long time ago.   Let’s say 100 years before Goku’s birth.   These robed aliens gave them the means to travel further into space, and the Saiyans operated as an independent kingdom for a while until they finally fell under King Cold’s influence.   I’m not sure how well that gels with some of the other lore, but I think I like that better, since it gives Saiyan history a chance to breathe.   It always irked me how they beat the Tuffles and got taken over by Frieza almost immediately.

The biggest flaw in King Kai’s tale is the part where he explains the destruction of Planet Vegeta, which Raditz attributed to meteors.   King Kai says this was done by the Kami of Planet Vegeta, as a way to punish the Saiyans for their evil deeds.   You’d think he would have stepped in a lot sooner, back when the Saiyans were killing all the Tuffles, but better late than never.  

Really, the idea of the Saiyans falling victim to divine justice was a cool idea, but the problem is that it suggests that King Kai really knows what happened here, and as we’ll later learn, he has no clue.   But Toei has him speaking with great authority on this subject, like he witnessed this happening.  

On the other hand, this is sort of true.    According to Battle of Gods, Beerus chose to have Planet Vegeta destroyed, and he tasked Frieza with doing so.  Who’s to say that Beerus didn’t ask Planet Vegeta’s Kami to handle it first, and then he went to Frieza when the Kami botched the job?

King Kai also states that only four Saiyans survived the planet’s destruction, which again sounds kind of weird because it implies that he went and counted them personally, except he ended up being wrong.   I’m not trying to nitpick here, I’m just saying that this can be the trouble with filler scenes.   The writers need to leave themselves a little wiggle room in case things get changed later.    Essentially, King Kai is just reinforcing everything that Raditz said in Episode 2.   Well, Raditz can be misinformed, but it’s a little off for King Kai to have his facts wrong. 

Anyway, Goku gets all fired up and wants to get back to his training right away.

He catches Gregory and gives him a little tap on the head.   Gregory brags that he’s tougher than Goku gives him credit for...

... but he’s still got a bump on his head.

King Kai is encouraged by Goku’s rapid progress, and believes that Goku might be good enough to learn the Kaio-ken, a technique so advanced that it’s just a theory he invented.   And he has another technique even cooler than that, but we’ll learn about that one another time.

[davidfostercomedyblog]

My 2nd Trip to Paris: The Strike!

Mamidou worked the night shift at the front desk of L’Empire Hotel, and it was his job to open the doors for us when we stumbled drunkenly home from our nights of Parisian gluttony. He’d originally grown up in Senegal, but “lived many years in U.S.,” having split a decade between Brooklyn and the Bay area of California.

“I prefer California,” he said. “New York too cold.”

I just laughed, which is my default response to anyone expressing any kind of preference over New York. It’s like someone saying they didn’t like The Godfather. I know we don’t see the same world, so laughter keeps things amicable but logically distant.

One of the things we enjoyed about Mamidou, besides his joyous demeanor in response to our drunken faces at the door, was his nightly rants against French people. “They don’t wanna work,” he’d yell. “French people do not work… and they want to work even less than that! They don’t know how good they have it.” In retrospect I think Mamidou may have been as drunk as we were.

His monologues were in response to the national strikes going on, supposedly driven by the goal of longer and greater pensions upon retirement. “France is ‘the country of strikes,’” Mamidou explained. “You didn’t know that?”

We do now, as our arrival in Paris this time was not without a hitch.

“Should we take a cab?” my wife (who was a mere fiancée for the last trip) asked after we retrieved our bags at the airport.

GPS indicated the difference in time of arrival to be negligible while the price gap was huge. We’d relied heavily on the train last time in Paris and came to fall in love with it relative to the MTA, the way a woman does with her new boyfriend that treats her well after decades of neglect in an abusive marriage.

The train platform was crowded. After a few moments loud announcements came (in French only) over the speaker. The locals looked displeased and a few of them departed back up the escalator. If not for the language barrier I’d have thought I’d never left New York and we were stuck at Columbus Circle.

Apparently there was a strike affecting the train operations on a national scale. Eventually we all left the station, forced to climb broken escalators, some of us sacrificing the future of our rotator cuffs to be gentlemen, carrying old ladies’ suitcases up the non-functioning escalators. My wife and I were sweating, confused and exhausted – that barely-any-sleep-on-a-red-eye-exhausted, angry– and it looked as though this trip would not be nearly the success of the previous one. Thankfully, there are few things that cannot be cured by a nap, alcohol and good food with your best friends. Next time you feel horrible I highly recommend this 4-part prescription.  

My best (wo)man from my wedding and her husband were in Paris for their anniversary. Their last two days were our first two, not coincidentally of course. Since our first trip my wife seeks any excuse to go to Paris; so if you know us and we’re even peripherally friendly, by all means let us know if you’re planning a trip. We’ll meet you there.

NIGHT 1 was dinner at Bon Georges, followed by Moulin Rouge, then cocktails at the Little Red Door, followed by another dinner and more cocktails at some wherever-the-fuck, dope Parisian late night corner spot filled with beautiful, thin people drinking, eating cheese, and smoking cigarettes.

We arrived at the restaurant too early, which is always a good excuse to grab a pre-dinner drink. Jillian and I sought espresso, still running on jet-lagged fumes, but our dates were (understandably) ready for wine. We went around the corner and spotted Bo Man Café, which looked nice enough.

The first red flag should have been when they were “out of espresso.” “Out of espresso?” Where are we? Are we absolutely sure the plane ever took off from JFK? Are we in Long Island? Fair enough. “We’ll have the $6 glass of Cotes du Rhone.”

This might sound cheap, but we’ve had many a brilliant $6 glass of wine in France already. Unfortunately this experience would bless us with a joke that would kill in a black comedy club of wine aficionados, nicknaming it: “Cotes du Wrong.” It was the worst glass of wine we’d ever had in the nation of France, also the worst Cotes du Rhone we’d ever had. It wasn’t corked. It just sucked. Do not go to Bo Man Café.  

Bon Georges was excellent. The artichoke puree soup with truffles blew everyone’s mind, as did the filet mignon special and my roasted pork chop with roasted onions that reminded me of a fancy version of how the west African restaurants do fish in Harlem. Although Paris is best known for duck and red meat, my experience thus far is to never skip the soup if and when it appears on your menu, as it’s always been incredible. Do skip the frog legs, as they were a bit too oily, and I’ve had better even in Chicago. We did only one bottle of Bordeaux, followed by a couple of single glasses, as we were in a rush to go see the tits.

Moulin Rouge, unfortunately almost ruined tits for me forever, as tits lose their luster when you’re looking at 48 of them at once, from 50 feet away, all of identical (B-cup) size and attached to 24 bodies doing the Can-Can. I never thought I could be less turned on while looking at naked French girls in their physical prime. As the saying goes… too much of a good thing… Though maybe this degree of exposure is part of the reason European culture tends to be less sexually repressive than ours in the west. In any case, you could never have told me I would see so many boobs in a show and my favorite part would be the contortionist and shirtless, diesel, yoga balancing guy. You equally could never have convinced me that my least favorite part would be the champagne (in Paris). Yuk! Higher quality drinks were in order immediately afterwards.

The Little Red Door was a revisit from last trip – a lovely creative cocktail lounge that attracts the local sophistos, hipsters and tourists. It wasn’t as crowded as last summer, but the bigger difference this time was it did not mark the end of our evening. We left hungry and drunk and it was 1:30am in Paris, which in real world terms is only about 9pm. The night was young! My friend, Daniel, craved a slice of pizza because he, like us, is from New York. Instead we found another restaurant still bustling with locals smoking cigarettes, surely prepping for the five-hour work day that lay ahead for them to start around noon. Daniel ordered what I imagine to be the Parisian counterpart to pizza: French fries. I got another full meal: Burger, pommes frites and a burrata caprese, and plenty of beer. We got to bed at 4am.

DAY 2 was Angelina’s for brunch, followed by the Catacombs, then dinner at Pottoka and drinks at Le Fumoir.

Angelina’s was our 9:30 breakfast reservation, and I honestly never felt so good after five hours of sleep after a night of drinking after a two-hour sleep red eye the night before. Paris man…Situated almost directly across the street from the Louvre, Angelina’s is an iconic brunch spot (and set to open a new location in NYC, God help us). I thought I was being less of a tourist by getting the eggs benedict, but it didn’t much match the restaurant’s décor, upscale crowd, or awesome coffee. Instead I spent most of my (hungover) breakfast picking as much as possible from my wife’s plate: The greatest French toast either of us had ever tasted. On brioche bread with the perfect amount of sweetness and an ever so subtle taste of rum, it was just divine. A bit more of a Beverly Hills-type crowd than either of us would prefer, and if not for the shit bag, overcast weather I’d have thought we were back in rocky-ass Nice. Nevertheless, the service was lovely - even uncharacteristically diligent. On the way out we were advised to get the hot chocolate, which tasted good, but was more like a hot melted fudge in a coffee cup. It was insane. You could’ve cut it with a knife, and in spite of its reputation, I do not recommend to anyone baring any consideration for their A1C.

Next we crossed the street to the holiday market. We’d already had breakfast, so it was apparently time for shots of cognac and cups of mulled wine, which worked out perfectly, as it helps to be intoxicated while watching the wife shop. If I don’t get at least one son or tomboy I’ll surely be joining some kind of men’s club.

The Catacombs is a “museum,” as the French call it. What it actually is is a dungeon of a cemetery five stories under ground where six million broken up skulls and skeletons lay buried from times of an epidemic hundreds of years ago. It is… fucking… creepy. As we wound down the tight spiral staircase, floor by floor, we eventually wondered if it would ever end. The walls were covered in graffiti, which in most cases of urban environments makes the atmosphere more intimidating. In this case it actually had the opposite effect. People got dizzy as the air got colder and staircase narrower, so when I saw next to other scrawled marker on the wall: “Astoria 19thSt.,” it had a great calming effect for me. Other douche bags from New York had been here – guys I’d probably call friends – and momentarily, Catacombs seemed not so scary, humanized, ironically.

Minutes later was a completely different story. I was in a dimly lit hallway about 100 yards long with ceilings only 6-12 inches above my head, lined on either side with literal skulls and crossbones (actually bones laid mostly parallel, but “cross bones” sounds cooler). Some hallways were longer and quieter than others, and a few times I genuinely looked over my shoulder for the sole purpose of making sure a ghost wouldn’t tap me on the shoulder from behind and in the process ruin my vacation and change my life forever more. I was hung over and probably still drunk and just not ready for such an experience. I made it through. I checked it off my list and took a bunch of pictures, although not every one that I wanted to. There were bars over cages in front of pitch black spaces, and I was so shook by a few of them that I resisted taking a picture for fear of the flash revealing a demon skeleton that would lunge forward and growl as if from some horror movie and my brain would be fucked forever. It should be noted that one of my flight movies on the way over the day before was Pet Sematary.Who knows how much this may have played into my comical levels of cowardice and paranoia.

After climbing the five stories of spiral staircase back up to reality I figured I could finally catch my breath and relax. The drama was over. No one had tapped my shoulder, no demon ghosts had appeared for my eyes only.  I could return to great food and fine wine, unnecessary beers and one too many espressos… right?

Wrong. Supposedly there was an international scare happening. We were told because of the strike that flights were being canceled and my (Jewish) wife had entered an all-out panic that I couldn’t help but find the irony in. “You’re afraid of being trapped for an extra day in PARIS?Things could be worse.”

Believe it or not nobody was trapped (unfortunately). Life went on, all flights were on time and it’s flowin’ like mud around here, you know what I’m sayin’?

Pottokawas a dinner recommendation from the same person who’d recommended Derriere, which was our best dinner of the entire first trip, but ironically our worst (lunch) of this trip. Pottoka is on the lesser frequented left bank of town, offering an unplanned second visit to the Eiffel Tower, and this time we got to see its lovely flashing night lights, albeit engulfed in the overcast sky.

Pottoka ended up the all-star MVP of the trip, and arguably the greatest dinner I’ve ever had in my life. Although chicken generally gets ignored on Parisian menus for the beef, pork and duck, my wife and I looked at each other at almost the same time after reading over it and said we were considering the chicken. It was a farmed breast stuffed with chestnut and beef, served with pumpkin, black garlic and ham foamy, cooked to crispy, juicy perfection of course. “What is ‘ham foamy’ you ask?” I have no idea how or what it is. All I know is the plate featured a dollop of foamthat tasted exactly like ham and went nicely with each bite of chicken, and it was definitely the best chicken I’ve ever tasted. Not to be ignored were the other plates: A beef cheek with bacon, shallots, anchovies and macaroni gratin, preceded by a farmed foie gras with cocoa nibs, pickled mushrooms, remoulade celery and chestnuts soup poured over all of it at the table by the server. The whole experience was completely insane. And you’re insaneif you go to Paris and don’t go there. Actually you’re insane if you don’t go to Paris soon with the explicit intention of going there. Go there. We only did one carafe of red wine, but that’s because we were meeting friends for cocktails later on at a lovely spot near our hotel, Le Fumoir. One night there we had one of the loveliest servers in all our time in Paris. Another time was the complete opposite, but the drinks and atmosphere are definitely can’t miss.

Finally the night was over, and for literally the first time in the 21stcentury I slept for 11 hours. I usually sleep between 5-7 hours, the former side of which is obviously pathological and frankly, the bane of my existence. I woke up and looked at my phone and it said11:03am. I figured it must be a mistake. I figured there was a better chance of evil spirits in the Catacombs having somehow scrambled the visual cortex of my brain into reading numbers inaccurately than there was of my sleeping 11 hours. Fortunately I woke my wife up and she saw the same digits on her phone. They were the same on the TV, and in a glorious storm of prolonged jet lag, alcoholism, and the de-stressed mind of vacation, I set my adulthood record for sleep. I was elated, on cloud nine! My wife, on the other hand was immediately panicked that we’d missed the continental breakfast and actually had to move urgently to make lunch. I gently reminded her: “Fuck the continental breakfast, babe. I just slept 11 hours. Also, we stayed out late and woke up late. I mean, are you Parisian or not?As the wife now deeply covets the status of honorary Parisian, this is a card I can always pull. She calmed down and we went about…

DAY 3: Lunch at Derriere, followed by Musee D’Orsay, an Italian dinner at Norma and drinks at Lavomatic.

Derriere was the star of our previous trip – sadly, the flop of this trip. It was nice that our friends, Daniel and Yael, joined to say goodbye on their way to the airport, but the soup was cold and taste of the food mediocre. Go for the dinner!

Museum D’Orsay was situated conveniently about a 15-minute walk from our hotel. It had been closed the day before due to the national strike, and today only the ground floor was available for viewing. This meant no Van Gogh, which initially gave my wife pause: “Do we still want to go with no Van Gogh?”

“Yes, I replied. We’re on vacation and time is at a premium. We can’t afford to get off the itinerary, lest we sacrifice some amount of food or wine, which is not an option.”

She agreed, and agreed further upon realizing midway through the walk in the museum: “Ya know, I don’t think I like art… I don’t understand it.”

I love my wife. She and I possibly share less in common than I have with anyone I’ve ever met. We like almost none of the same TV shows, movies or music, and she hates sports almost as much as I do her two religions,General Hospital and Disney World. But the one thing we do share in common is an equal disinterest and ignorance around politics and paintings (not counting graffiti).

D’Orsay was okay. There were plenty of boobs and penises, but it didn’t compare to the Louvre, nor do I think it would have even with Van Gogh. When it was 16 minutes before closing time we were rather aggressively ushered out, which perpetuated the semi-sour experience and brought on thoughts of how we’d calm down and de-stress: Wine.

Norma wasn’t part of the original itinerary. We had one night to improvise dinner and wanted something close to another recommendation for drinks, Lavomatic. Norma was Italian food, but being in Paris we were sure to order the fried squid appetizer. It was the best calamari we’d ever had, and instead of marinara sauce, they served it with mayonnaise, much to my pleasure and my wife’s dismay. She kept dipping pieces in the burrata caprese tomatoes and I kept looking around to see if anyone noticed. The basil pesto gnocchi with burrata cheese was the best gnocchi either one of us had ever tasted, and the wine in spite of being not French, was excellent. The server didn’t speak a word of English and we didn’t give a shit.

Lavomatic is a functioning laundromat situated underneath a speakeasy cocktail bar in the heart of where the riots for bigger pensions and less work had taken 11 lives the night before. My otherwise wonderful bride, who is more or less ruled by the fear emotion, expressed reticence about going; though I would hear nothing of it. “The riots were yesterday. That’s like a lifetime ago. Nobody got killed today all day.”

On our way there we passed a historic monument with graffiti scrawled across it: “C’EST NOUS LES BRAVES!”(Translation: “We are the Brave!”) I’m not sure if “brave” is the adjective I’d use to describe a determination to not over-work, but whatever it is, is a quality and goal I admire. We are lost in the west.

We knew we’d reached our location when we saw a young, strapping man in a long, black coat standing conspicuously on the sidewalk in front of a door as the only person on the quiet block. We were already a bit drunk and unsure of how to proceed. Somehow I felt like Tom Cruise in Eyes Wide Shutso I figured best to just show my ID. He enjoyed that very much, getting a good laugh: “That’s OK, man, this is Paris, I don’t need that.” We laughed, which encouraged him further: “But thank you, I couldn’t tell. What is that, powder on your face there?” He gestured to my mostly white 5:00 shadow, mocking my pathetically wishful idea that someone might ever ask for my ID again.

“Wait right here,” he told us as my wife attempted to collect her hysterics at me.

He let us in to a small foyer of a space with one locked door and two giant washing machines. I tried pulling and pushing the door.

“No, no,” my wife said. “It’s a trap door, you know?”

“A trapdoor?!”

“No, not a trap—you know, like a trick door. We have to open the washing machine!”

Quick reminder: She’s a doctor and I have a Master’s degree in Chinese Medicine.

I turned to ask the bouncer outside how to get in but he just smiled and turned away. It was futile, like asking a Chinese acupuncturist a question about our medicine. Figure it out for yourself, is the general maxim in Chinese Medicine, which is an utterly moronic tradition in my opinion, and one that leads me to drink hard liquor in Laundromats.

The western MD figured out how to open the washing machine and we walked up two flights of stairs to a tiny bar in the attic that resembled a popular teenager’s basement hang out. The ceilings were low and the crowd was young, probably just post-college, poised to enter the grueling work force of 25-hour weeks and greater pensions. There seemed to be a lot of dates happening, legs crossed and angled towards one another on small loves seats or bar stools, and it had a distinct Williamsburg feel, logically. “Affirmative Action” from Nas’ second album in 1996, came on shortly after our arrival and it reminded me that God is always with me.

We broke from the vin to humor the mixology and sat enjoying two cocktails each. My go-to is scotch-based and I think Jillian leans towards vodka. At one point an older couple came in, thankfully then stripping us of the title, and were seated just next to us at the bar. Is this like the opposite of the kids’ table?

The first thing my wife noticed was the aromatic cloud of cigarette that followed them in. She made a face and whispered to me the way irritated wives do, then for a moment showed relief when the smell dissipated. Unfortunately, olfactory reprieve was brief, before she was re-assaulted by their even more offensive body odor.

“Well… Paris, babe.”

Jillian shook her head, and I swear to you a moment later went aghast for a third and final time. Another lean in: “Oh my God, she just farted. She just basically farted on me.”

“Oh.”

We moved our seats, finished our drinks and made our way back downstairs, probably wishing we could have thrown our outfits in the washing machines. We drunkenly enjoyed laughing at ourselves with the bouncer on our way out. It was fun. No one got killed.

Day 4: Finally the continental breakfast! Another shopping day in Little Israel, then a huge dinner plan SNAFU turns magical and we close with Hemingway.

L’Empire Hotel had a lovely front desk staff and the room itself was totally fine. We were pleased with its convenient location being almost immediately halfway between the Louvre and a lot of our chosen shops and restaurants, especially since the trains were closed due to the homicidal riots. Finally, it was beyond sweet of the staff to give us a complimentary bottle of wine for our (mini) honeymoon stay. However, in my now half decade of (arguably) over-indulging in the grape’s finest contribution I’ve never seen a screw go directly through the middle of the cork to the other end after having not been able to pry it out even half an inch using all my strength. We tried pouring some out through the hole in the middle just to sample, but it was to no avail, and surely not worth the effort. Safe to assume it would not have been to our liking.

The continental breakfast staff was not as lovely as the front desk (separated only by 20 feet) and the food actually didn’t compare to that of Villa Opera Drouot. Instead, the highlight of our morning eggs cheese and baguettes was the rather short, gentle-looking Italian man who sat alone at the table next to us in the humble dining room. He’d already taken his plate from the buffet, ordered his espresso, took out his phone and made a call. It was the angriest I’d seen anyone since we left New York. A true travesty that neither one of us could follow his Italian, but we definitely each caught a “mafankulo” and “bafangu,” respectively. He was mustering as much a whisper as was possible, but anger is anger and ours’ weren’t the only heads in the room to turn. We were both concerned for the immediate future of the person on the other end of the phone. He hung up and enjoyed his espresso and cured meats and left quickly, before we did.

When we left it was on to more shopping Christmas was three weeks away. Why not bring to our loved ones gifts from the city of love? We shared a falafel sandwich and it was the best falafel we’d ever tasted, but made a point to eat very little in preparation for our final night of great gluttony.

Before dinner was a mission of vindication. We’d never made it on our first trip to the highly recommended Hemingway Bar in the Ritz Hotel and were determined to make it this time around. We arrived at opening time, 6:00, and there was already a 40-minute wait to get in. The cozy bar was full, and the elder, English maitre’d with a warm face kindly advised us to wait on the lobby couches and he’d come get us as soon as there was space. “It could be sooner,” he added. “But I’d count on 40 minutes.”

We figured that was fine. It would give us time for one drink before dinner, which at 30 euro/drink would suffice.

40 minutes came and went, as did 50, as did we. We informed the maitre’d we had to leave, who again kindly recommended we try again after dinner and he’d skip us to the front of the line. He was so nice.

Terres du Truffes was one of our favorite experiences from our summer trip to Nice. They put truffles on everything! Black truffles, summer truffles, even white truffles, and served us what at the time as the best Margaux we’d ever had. As it turned out they had another location in Paris, so we were sure to make a reservation for our sequel. Unfortunately, as is the case with most sequels…

We got there at 7:30 and the restaurant was empty. Maybe a reservation wasn’t so imperative after all. They sat us in front of the window (as restaurants do to give the illusion to the street that there are actually people dining there) and it was chilly. The menu didn’t reflect what it had online, nor what we’d had in Nice. Where was all the duck? It was mostly egg dishes and cold fish… in December. As we sat there being ignored for five minutes we finally called the waiter over to ask if we’d been given the wrong menus.

“Is this for brunch?”

“No, no, this is the menu,” he replied in an accent noticeably thicker and more broken than that of the staff in most of the more reputable venues thus far.

He didn’t ask if we wanted anything to drink, alcoholic or otherwise, and after five more minutes of being ignored I peaked around the corner to note a table full of bread baskets surely awaiting the dinner rush. But, what about us? We like bread.

I had an impulse and we walked. No goodbye, no oi revoir or merci. We just bounced.

We were hungry, tired and cold, the trifecta of adjectives to describe Jewish; but sadly no longer anywhere near “Little Israel.”

We tried walking in at Balaganand they laughed at us like when Patrick Bateman tried getting a reservation at Dorsia. The host was courteous and recommended a market of restaurants affiliated with them just around the corner. We went around the corner and got lost. We saw no market. No restaurants, no nothing. We were growing colder, hungrier, more irritable. Our last evening seemed doomed.

“Let’s just go anywhere - I saw a spot a block back,” I muttered and my lovely bride stood by my indignant side.

A red awning and red seats – it must be good. At the least there seemed to be patrons there. They gave us a nice table upstairs and we figured it would be decent.

Le Castiglioneended up serving us one of the best fucking meals I’ve ever had. We started with a Bordeaux and soups – French Onion (“the authentic kind,” as the menu read) and a pumpkin puree with hazelnuts. We planned on sharing our entrees – the veal Milanese and filet mignon with peppercorn sauce and pomme frites – but Jillian barely allowed me an angle at her veal.

“This is just like my mom used to make,” she raved. “Do you want more?” she contrived an offer, but I was just as fine with my steak. It was perfect. A totally generic-looking restaurant and the steak was on par with any New York steakhouse. For dessert was the coffee crème brulee, and I’d go as far as to say the meal was even better than that of the original Terres du Truffes in Nice. One comes to expect magic in Paris.

Upon return to Bar Hemingway we were skipped to the front of the line as promised. I wouldn’t call it hokey, but it was definitely touristy, filled with mostly attractive young, professional Americans and Brits, yukking it up over over-priced cocktails served by the loveliest of white-coats. The room was brightly lit, as most are in Paris, and there were pictures of the psychopathic, genius, Hemingway, all over the walls; in addition to one of the Obamas at the bar perched immediately next to our seats in the corner. A row of sophistos lined the remainder of the bar seating, and next to us sat three young blonde girls, who seemed to be having a joyous, reunion at the maximum decibel of volume that was still respectful and appropriate, which is no unimpressive feat. Proximal to them was a double date of two gay men along with a straight couple who were no distant second in flamboyance, however still oddly coveted the attention of the trio of girls. One of the gay guys paid one of the girls a compliment on her jaw line that was no less awkward than if it had been delivered by some goofy straight college bro in the 90’s. “Thank you,” the girl laughed in response, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as when the (apparent straight) girl came over in hopes of merging their two tables. It was pathetic. It was like trying to sit with the plastics in Mean Girls, except these girls weren’t mean or plastic. They were just obviously long-time best friends, drunk and having the time of their lives, which is an impossible frequency to penetrate for a complete stranger.

Luckily she got the hint without anyone having to be rude. She made her way back to her double date and my bride and I continued our intoxicated eavesdropping. The complimentary olives and pistachios were as good as any I’ve ever had, although the $30 cocktail was no better than Lavomatics or Little Red Doors’. It was a great experience, but I’d probably only go back if there was no wait.

We woke at some ungodly hour and paid some ungodly expense for an Uber to the airport, as rates were jacked up due to the strike.

“I miss Paris already,” Jillian lamented on our dark, cold cab ride.

“I’m sorry, babe,” I consoled her, and became abundantly aware that we were presently neck deep in the most comical first world problem in the history of mankind. How sad it is, to leave Paris for New York City (for the second time in a year), and not know when you’d be returning.

Wikipedia defines “Paris Syndrome” as a culture shock experienced mostly by Japanese tourists when they visit Paris that can last anywhere from a few days to the rest of their lives. I can’t tell you how entertained we both were to read about this “syndrome.”

For my wife “Paris Syndrome” means something different – something I think more common and understandable. It’s an addiction to Paris – no cheap addiction – and a preoccupation with wanting to always be there. After our first trip she began googling flight deals at the airport gate on our way home, which is obviously what lead to this trip in the first place. After this trip I had to quickly shoot her down like a parent: “No. Please. Just… please… no more trips to Paris for a while.” It’s just not sustainable.

This brings me to my own definition of “Paris Syndrome,” which is no less in love than my wife is, but I’d like to think a bit more optimistic and enlightened.

“We live in ‘Paris,’ babe,” I man-splained to her in hopes of not flushing away all of our retirement and kids’ college funds on steak and wine. We live in New York City – pretty much the only place in the world that Parisians equally admire and crave to see and be a part of. We don’t have to travel halfway across the world to eat incredible food late at night, drink fine wine and be immersed in rich metropolitan culture. We have it right precisely where we both were born! Sure, the food might not be of quite the same caliber and the wine isn’t as affordable, but it’s more affordable than hotels and airfare – that’s for sure.

My “Paris Syndrome” is another kind of beast. It’s a degree of celebratory alcoholism, socializing and gluttony, which is also a seamless transition when you get home two weeks before the holidays. Last time we returned I spent 3-5 weeks of basically pretending we never left. Sure, I went back to work and resumed the responsibilities of a real adult in a world that doesn’t as much value well being, but I went out with friends more often, stayed out later, consumed a bit more, and relished in the incredible privilege of having been born and raised, for all intents and purposes, in Paris. This time has been more of the same. Paris reminds me to celebrate more and stress less. It reminds me to occasionally look at my home through the lens of a tourist, thereby reinvigorating my excitement for home and mitigating the effects of the daily grind. That is what “Paris Syndrome” means to me.