#people may grow and change but the owl slide is forever

[an-internet-introvert]

The Owl slide through the years:

Owl Slide->Owl Space Shuttle-> Owl Skate Park

Home is where the owl slide is

[popculturebuffet]

Star Vs Tom Luictor Retrospective Detour: Skooled!

                                         Dedicated to Jessica Walter                                                     1941- 2021

Welcome back all you still mourning people to Prince of Wishful Thinking, my Tom Lucitor Retrospective... or at least a detour from it as I need to cover the Meteora arc to cover Divide/Conquer properly. When we last left off with Star she and Tom were going closer, but both are taking a break this time. We’ll get back to them in April... oh will we get back to them in april.  For now we’re back to Meteora who I forgot was ABSENT for a while. not forever, but while her parantege, the cover up related to her and all of that has been vitally important, Meteora herself vanished after Monster Party and hasn’t been seen till now. But i’ts a good storytelling engine.. it ratchets up tension for her inevitable return, and gives us time to find out what happened with her and let that sink in.. granted i’td also be the last time it sunk in but I can dunk on the series decline later... I still have season 4 episodes to cover after all. So join me under the cut as we get the welcomed Return of Henious, an unexpected hero.. and Ponyhead because this series clearly hasn’t hurt me enough. And as usual for my Star Vs Reviews, i’d like to thank one of my Best Friends @jess-the-vampire for her insight on this episode. It’s always welcome and she always manages to find something I didn’t think of . 

So we open at Saint O’s with Ponyhead returning to the school, having previously run it post rebellion before leaving because.. I don’t know. She probably got tired of being a leader, and out of universe they needed her to be around star more. Look the series has far more important things it never explained and never will, not explaining why a recklessly irresponsible asshole left a position of authority and responsibility I can let slide. 

She’s come for brunch but things have changed... the school is still a warm, free environment for princesses to better themselves and party hardy, no longer an oppressive brainwashing gulag run by someone who as it turned out was horribly brainwashed herself.. it’s just now it actually has rules and structure. 

It now also has an actual leader, Princess Patty Arms who showed up in the school’s previous appearance this season here and.. that’s it. I think she showed up in the background of the original st o’s episode. And it’s a shame because she’s a really fascinating character. No really she’s calm, dosen’t take Pony’s shit, and while a brunch exam SEEMS like a waste of time... it really isn’t. A good meal can loosen up a dignitary and some rulers have sticks up their keisters about things like this, so being able to do it just right can win them over. It’s still a touch ridiculous but given the world of star is a touch ridiculous to start with, it works. 

Pony naturally leaves in a rage over this especially when no one backs her up.. but soon the School has bigger issues and we get to why we’re actually here: Meteora is back. And while she has changed, now having grown larger and stronger, easily scaling the wall, she still wants payback and we get a damn fine battle sequence as the princesses all unite against their former tormentor. It’s also sad in hindsight.. because as Jess pointed out to me almost NONE of these characters show up again. And I only added the almost because Penelope is in there. They all seem interesting, the setting of ST O’s itself is interesting, and the idea of a school for princesses of various types is a cool idea. I’ts something the show could’ve come back to to see how they bounce back from this attack.. but like most cool background elements in the show they forget about it. It was intresting to see the schools slow evolution from horrible nightmare to princess ran utopia and like many things coming up it feels like a lost opportunity. 

That being said the fight is awesome, with Meteora proving to be a juggernaut in strength and outplanning her enimies, having brought an overide switch for the robots (Patty reprogrammed them to work for the school) and having them throw their hearts/ power sources as bombs. It’s a damn fine sequence as she finds way after way to keep going, with a now restored rasticore helping them simply portal in.

Pony meanwhile.. is hiding , as Patty find sout when she finds her, and Pony assumes this is about her... though for once i’ts not JUST ego.. but because she was one of the two who started the uprising at the school in the first place and THE person who tossed her out. We also get a nice character moment as while Pony tells patti she still hates her.. she puts the princess behind her when Meteora approaches. She may be a selfish twit whose massively unlikeable.. but she has a good heart.. and not just the one she keeps in a jar she got from one of her boyfriends. 

But Meteora has more important buisness and finds her way to the depths of St. O’s.. where we meet the Schools namesake and her adopted mother a robot played by tress macneile.. another thing the series never bothered to care about as where did these robots come from and why? 

Turns out Meteora came to find out her own personal history, with the remote from before used to find the real dirt.. and what we find .. is heartbreaking as we slowly journey back through Meteora’s childhoods as Henious.. and it’s fucking heart breaking with Tress voicing her younger versions, hence why I didn’t use this as the jessica tribute as while walter’s good in the episode, she isn’t given much. 

We see her as a teen, forced to hide her tail and insulted over it by her mother.. and it only gets worse as when her cheeks glow as a kid St. O tries to wash them off and we get the poor child desperately begging that “she can be better”

We do finally get the answers Meteora saught as we see Shastacan dropping off the baby meteora, calling her “Henious”.. which St. O took as her name. Proving the spiderbites minus penelope’s dickishness is indeed genetic and why I have no sympathy for the prick getting eaten later... and hopefully globgor will do an encor with penepople’s parents. Here’s hoping. 

So Meteora now knows she’s the rightful queen, and decides to go take it back.. though Pony does try to stand up for her friends... and while we don’t see it hte next episode confirms she got her horn ripped the fuck off. And this horribly traumatic injury.. is magically fixed via 3d printing next time we see her after an episode grappling iwth it instead of having pony deal with not having a horn, or her prostetic not giving her magic powers again. Because this show again really likes to leave good ideas out to rot in the sun like that  package of hamburger I left out in the sun yesterday. And I actually had a reason there: I need a lot of Racoons for an elaborate scheme involving a map to tex cruz’s house, a used apache helicopter and a bulk order of tiny parachutes. 

We do get some payoff to things though, as Henious comes on to rasticore who not so politely rejects her for being nuts.. before it’s revealed Gemini, her loyal servant is also a robot and she uses his heart to blow up rasticore and take the arm with her... which is ALSO never brought up again. Seriously this episode is so full of loose ends i’m suprised it just dosen’t end with Zuko asking his dad about his mother. Gemini’s death is genuinely tragic as his last words are “If you wanted my heart.. all you had to do.. was assssskkkkk”. God damn. So with that Meteora heads out to reclaim her birthright.. no matter the cost. 

Final Thoughts on Skooled!: This one is decent.. but like the last episode I covered, the lack of payoff off for almost anything here, excluding the Meteora plotline and the Pony thing which instead got a BAD payoff, is really starting to rear it’s ugly head as the series greatest weakness. Yes bigger than the romance plot. And given that romance plot after this season can be best discribed as...

The show just.. forgets a good chunk of things happened to keeep things chugging along. It sets UP plots, what happens to st o’s from here, buff frog and a small caravan of monsters leaving forever, the message from shastacan, who built the st o’s robots, and on and on.. but it never PAYS them off. It dosen’t care to. It just does things so the plot can move but never bothers to think about the fucking consequences. It just gets more and more irrtating to think about as other shows throughly DO: Amphibia has the fact the characters get into shenanigans become a commented on running gag and something they grow past, and everything that happens matters. Every episode of Owl House builds on the foundation of the previous episodes. OK Ko dosen’t forget one episode had the characters not be able to turn back into humans and implies their wearing human costumes for the rest of the series. Which is fucking weird, but it was their memory. My point is other shows around the same time or right after didn’t magically forget things happened for convience sake. While it’s OKAY to loose some things in the shuffle, it happens to the best of us, it’s not okay to do it SO fucking often and with no clear care for the audiences desire for payoff. The show just ignores what plot points, like the huge cliffhanger of Star telling marco how she felt at the end of season 2, it dosen’t care about till it needs them and ignores the ones it never does. You can’t just.. bring shit up like it’s important and then try and forget it ever happened. People remember stuff, we are NOT stupid. KIDS are not stupid. When I was younger I REMEMBERED things that happened on KND, Danny Phantom, Xiaolin Showdown, TMNT 2003, because those shows, which are from decades ago, knew I would and trusted even if I missed something and was thrown off i’d tune in for the quality. 

And in an age of streaming and more story based tv you can’t just.. ask kids to act like something they saw didn’t happen because your fucking lazy and frankly YOU never should have. Kids deserve better, my niblings deserve better and frankly the adults your clearly also writing for.. deserve better. This episode is eh, but the problems it represents are so fucking worse. 

Next time on tom. If you thought I got angry towards the end of this one, just you wait. Next time i’ts Booth Buddies. Yeah.. yeah that one. Stay tuned.

[cassieschaosdimension]

Here is the second installment in the redemption arc of Draco Malfoy.

The First Class (with the Gryffindors; I'm basing this off of the books and it's a fic so...)

He woke up after the feast in the Slytherin common room. Draco grins to himself running his hair through his unruly hair then he turns his head and it falls.

Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Zabini were sleeping around the room. How is he going to avoid them as he goes to breakfast?

It was especially hard not to wake up them meanly, but Draco wanted a clean slate where he could be himself without feeling smothered. He tried to be as quiet as possible. He doesn't want Nott and Zabini to ask questions. He may have had to grow up with them, but he doesn't have to be nice to them. Father might be furious at him, but mother said he should just be himself and it would all be fine.

Putting on his uniform and robe, Draco thinks how proud his father will be to see he's in Slytherin just like his parents were. He's always gravitated towards mother; she wasn't as harsh as father and made sure he was taught to be himself. At least she was the one who wanted him to be happy. Father only wanted Draco to become a mini Lucius and as much as he loved his father, he did not want to become just like him.

Tiptoeing out of the dormitory he shudders at the thought of turning as mean, heartless, and cold as his father. He never wants to be like that. He wants to bring light and happiness in the world because his father sucks it all up. Draco doesn't remember when he was allowed to laugh and smile.

Pushing open the heavy door, Draco runs into Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch House team.

"Hey Draco! Nice to have you finally here! Come on, let's come down to breakfast and stuff our faces before class." At the word class Flint rolls his eyes. Draco is shocked. He didn't realize Flint was disrespectful! The professors gave up any hope of a social life to teach them! The least they could do was respect them, but Flint didn't.

He tries to get away and go see where the people he met yesterday on the train are sitting. Glancing around until he spots them he grins. The grin slides off his face faster than a dementer closing in to perform the Kiss. They're at the Gryffindor table like he expected, but it still hurts.

Hmm, Hermione seems to be off to the side from everyone. He enjoyed going head to head with her on the train. (NOT DRAMIONE NOPE PLATONIC PEOPLE!!!!) Not many people could do that and survive. He wanted to be good friends with someone like her even if she was Mu-Muggleborn. He was going to have to get used to calling them by their proper names, not what his father always called them.

Harry and Ron looked thick as thieves already and it had barely been a day! Sitting down at the Slytherin table, Draco wishes he could have a friendship like that. He had hoped for that on the train, but Neville had squashed that flat. Poor Neville looked absolutely terrified when he heard his name!

Draco was sad as he saw the smile fly off the face of the round faced boy Draco thought would be nice when he introduced himself. Maybe the letter he wrote to his mother would have some answers.

The hooting of hundreds of owls suddenly fills the cavernous Hall. His owl, Talon, soars down to him. The giant parcel dropped in front of him seems to be filled with sweets and cakes. Among the cakes, he finds a folded letter. His mother must have placed this when she sent Talon off again. Bypassing the edible goodies the poor house elves must have been forced to.make for him, he goes right for the letter.

Dearest Draco,

I am hesitant to respond to you in case your father intercepts this, but I have placed this in your parcel instead of sending it with Talon separately.

The boy's name is Neville Longbottom yes? Your concern is welcoming, but the story is chilling.

This was before you were born in early 1980 and Snape has overheard the Divination professor utter a prophecy. Yes, Draco. The prophecy which changed our world forever. He was still very much in love with Lily Evans, who married James Potter earlier that year, and the prophecy scared him beyond comprehension.

He was scared it meant Harry and went to the Dark Lord to beg for the release of Lily Evans as he knew she would never leave Harry to die. But unfortunately, that was not so as you know and the Potters were killed leaving behind a little boy not much older than you were at the time.

Aunt Bella went to the Longbottoms that night and she tortured them for the whereabouts of the Dark Lord because she wanted to know where he went. The Longbottoms were tortured into insanity and left a one year old son, Neville, behind to be raised by his grandmother.

Draco gasps at this part. He knew aunt Bella was twisted, but not to that effect. He felt sorry for Neville and wants to apologize, but not in front of all of these people. He doesn't want to embarrass Neville. He'll read the rest of the letter later, he got his question answered. He'll have to thank his mother later for risking that information.

Draco, putting the letter into his pocket after folding it, digs into the hearty breakfast with relish. The rest of his dorm mates are down by this point. He glances at them out of the corner of his eye. Crabbe and Goyle are pigging out as per usual. Nott and Zabini are turning up their noses at the breakfast. Draco shrugs and goes back to eating.

Soon breakfast is over and he has his first class. Draco is excited because it's Potions and Snape teaches it.He walks alone having declined company. He wanted company, but not the company that was offered.

He was told by Flint to walk towards the Common Room and then turn left and he'll reach Potions eventually. Surprisingly, Flint gave him the right directions. When Draco walks in, the room glass silent. Sauntering in, Draco sits alone hoping Neville, Harry, or Ron will sit with him. The more people that aren't them that scramble in, the more dejected he feels.

By the time the boys arrive, all of the seats around Draco are filled by Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle. Draco wants to bang his head against the table in frustration. How on earth is he supposed to apologize for his aunt's behavior if he's never alone?

He tells himself to think of the happy days when he was allowed to be himself and play with the house elves. He had loads of fun with them and he learned amazing lessons from them. Draco thinks of all of the sweets and cakes he was taught in secret as soon as he turned eight. His mother allowed it because he was happy, but anytime his father was around he had to act like him.

A bang at the back of the classroom jerks Draco back to the present. Time to act he tells himself. He's going to loathe it, but until he can explain it to the others he has to act like this. He doesn't want Snape to report to his father that he's not acting like he's supposed to.

Snape's black robe flaps behind him as he makes his way to the front of the room. Draco has to keep from laughing at the sound. Every time Snape takes a step, the robe's hem smacks against the floor. Others aren't even attempting to hide their giggles.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor! I suggest if you don't want more points taken Mr. Finnegan, you will stop laughing. As such, you will receive detention tonight. You will be notified about your detention by Professor McGonagall. The same goes for the rest of you! Now, shall we commence to be introduced to the subtle art of potion making?"

The rest of the Slytherins are sniggering and jeering at the Gryffindors so Draco does it too. He feels absolutely wretched about it though. This is not who he is. Why did the Hat put him in Slytherin again?

The discussion with the Hat was interesting. The Hat told him he would do well in Gryffindor, but he asked to be in Slytherin because he didn't want to be disowned by his father. He didn't understand what his father was doing was wrong until he was eight and started to have to sneak around with the house elves.

Three years later and he worries about the house elves when he's not there. His mother can't protect them from his father's wrath all the time. Snape's voice carries out into the cavernous dungeon and Draco forces himself to listen intend of thinking of things that will make him cry. His father says crying is for the muggleborns, muggles and blood traitors like the Weasleys. Draco doesn't understand why the Weasleys are blood traitors though. The family is a pureblood family?

Oh well. Snape is now interrogating Harry about Potions ingredients and he doesn't answer. Draco knows the answers, but he has to pretend to be indifferent. Hermione has no problems with it. Her hand shoots up each time Harry says he doesn't know. She's brave he thinks to himself. Snape only knows one side of himself. He wishes he could show his true colors, but he's too afraid of his father to even think of it.

When Snape snaps at Hermione, Draco wants to defend her, but again, his father holds too much influence at Hogwarts. No one else defends her either. Is it so hard to defend your own House mate against a teacher?! Then again it is Snape and Snape is terrifying. That's the only reason Draco can think Neville isn't defending Hermione.

The rest of class is like that and Draco wants to cry for Hermione. She takes it like a pro and she must have gotten this treatment at her muggle school. He feels sick to his stomach. No human, or any creature for that matter, should be treated that way.

He wants class to be over so he can apologize to Hermione, but she runs out the door as soon as the bell trills. Draco grabs his books and stuffs them in his bag intent on following Hermione to see if she will let him apologize for what happened with the train and Snape. All he needs is for someone to give him a chance and he will be the most loyal friend they would ever ask for. All he wants is a real friend that isn't with him for his money or influence.

Walking to his next class he thinks about the apology he's going to make to each of them if he ever gets the chance.

Three days later and I'm finally done with the second installment! Enjoy! Please be honest in your opinions, I don't mind!

[ducktracy]

137. i love to singa (1936)

release date: july 18th, 1936

series: merrie melodies

director: tex avery

starring: tommy bond (owl jolson), billy bletcher (fritz owl, penguin), martha wentworth (mama), bernice hansen (fat chicken), joe dougherty (stuttering bird), tedd pierce (jack bunny)

a certified classic that almost everyone has either seen or at least heard of, and for good reason! tedd pierce, writer for mckimson, freleng, and jones, as well as inspiration for pepé le pew, makes his vocal debut as the voice of jack bunny (a very obvious take on radio show entertainer jack benny, who’d be parodied as jack bunny in a handful of cartoons such as slap happy pappy and goofy groceries.) the father owl was originally going to be voiced by bert lahr, who you may recognize as the cowardly lion from the wizard of oz, but was changed to bletcher instead. a parody of the al jolson movie the jazz singer, little owl jolson is born into a musical family that forbids any jazz. kicked out for breaking the strict family rule, owl finds solace in jack bunny’s radio show, where his talents shine—much to the bewilderment of his parents.

pan into a lovely shot of a quaint little home in a tree trunk, trees creating a framing in the foreground as butterflies flit along. a serene home that can do no wrong. a sign in the shape of a violin is posted just above the door: prof. FRITZ OWL teacher of “VOICE, PIANO, & VIOLIN” BUT— pan down to a sign below it, painted in all red letters: NO JAZZ!

tex playful as ever with his transitions as we peer through the keyhole of the door. professor fritz (not friz!) owl himself paces nervously in front of his wife, nesting on eggs while observing her anxious husband. the underscore is a fitting medley of solfeggios. fritz approaches his wife solemnly, who stands up and checks to see if her eggs have hatched yet. nothing but a sympathetic shake of the head.

time lapses, as we see from the rug below fritz’s feet. he’s paced so much that he’s worn it into the ground and then some—tex liked to play around with simple time lapses, a changing background the only indicator of passing time while the animation itself stays the same. once more, fritz returns to his wife. this time, we hear faint knocking. they both observe, and his wife is now beaming and nodding expectantly. the big moment at last! she crawls out of her nest, and fritz takes a conductor’s wand, tapping each egg gently. each makes a strong, reverberating ring of a bell. music to his ears... save for the last one, who creates a jangly dissonant sound instead. fritz and his wife exchange bewildered looks, fritz tapping on the egg again for confirmation. still a dud. very clever use of sound effects by treg brown.

before fritz can mull on his dud for too long, the first egg hatches. a mini owl version of himself dons a sharp suit, singing a beautiful rendition of “chi mi frena in tal momento” from the opera lucia di lammermoor. fritz is absolutely delighted, cooing “ah, what a fine voice! a caruso!” (of course referring to italian tenor enrico caruso) the next egg is set to hatch, this time the owl playing robert schumann’s “traumerei” on violin. he too is met with praise: “what sweet music, a fritz kreisler!” third egg hatches, the owl touting a flute and playing felix mendelssohn’s “spring song”, fritz appropriately commenting “a lovely melody, a mendelssohn.”

and, of course, the final egg. wonderful incongruity and juxtaposition as owl jolson pops out of the egg, blaring red suit and all, informally greeting “hullo, strenza!” “hello, strenza!” was a popular catchphrase at the time and yiddishism for “hello, stranger!”, originated from jack benny’s character schlepperman. appropriate considering jack bunny serves as an important character in the cartoon. owl thusly launches into the eponymous “i love to singa”, written by harold arlen and e. y. harburg (who both worked on the music for the wizard of oz) and featured thrice in 1936’s the singing kid. criminally catchy and a lethal earworm to all... except father fritz.

“ach, a jazz singer! a CROONER! stop! STOP! STOP!!!” fritz is horrified, tearing his feathers out in agony, only pausing to catch his wife, struck unconscious from the horrible thought of her child becoming the next bing crosby. fritz fans her awake, desperately reassuring “listen mama, if he must sing, we will teach him to sing like we want him to.” a sensible plan, right?

apparently not. owl is desperately uncomfortable and unhappy as he begrudgingly sings “drink to me only with thine eyes”, his mother oblivious to his plight as she accompanies him on piano. she pauses to turn the page, and owl gives a quick, hurried, whispered rendition of “i love to singa” behind her back. haven’t we all done that before? personality is very strong in this cartoon, and that’s what sells it, even more than the song itself. mama resumes her playing, and owl resumes his torture session. fritz walks in the doorway to admire his converted son, beaming. owl is unaware of his father’s presence, and as his mother pauses to turn the page he sings some more jazz, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

bob clampett animates fritz kicking owl out of the house, groveling “enough, it’s too much! out of my house, you hotcha, you crooner! you falsetto! you jazz singer! you... you...YOU..!” fritz is red-faced, sputtering and struggling desperately to find the perfect insult. instead, he opts for slamming the door shut. a pause. he opens it back up and quips “PHOOEY!” before slamming it back shut. perfect comedic timing for a gag that will be used in many a cartoon.

owl is frustrated at first, sardonically introducing to the camera “that’s mein pop.” nevertheless, his mood changes in an instant as he realizes he’s free to sing all the jazz he wants. he strolls along, happily singing his favorite song. a much happier scene than indoors, where mama tearfully suggests that fritz was being “a bit too hasty.” back outside, where owl is strolling along gaily as ever, whistling all the way. there’s a beautiful pan with trees and scenery overlaying in the foreground. you get the sense that everything is going to be just fine, that the world is worth singing about. a very positive and upbeat yet subtle scene. inside once more, where mama calls the police in tears to search for her missing child.

the happy go lucky expedition of owl jolson is put to a halt when he hears a harmonica. it’s coming from a building with a line in front of it: RADIO STATION G-O-N-G. below it: AUDITIONS TODAY. various people are given the boot, the telltale gong sounding as they’re plummeted down a slide and out into the cruel world. owl is enticed, and hurries to join the line.

a few animals perform their failed auditions: a few birds on a flute and saxophone each, another on the accordion, a penguin singing “laugh, clown, laugh” (which daffy would sing in both yankee doodle daffy and duck soup to nuts, both freleng cartoons), a fat chicken singing “i’m forever blowing bubbles” (which was featured in sinkin’ in the bathtub! shows you how far we’ve come)... all of the potential candidates get gonged by a caricature of jack benny (jack BUNNY), and they’re all sent plummeting through a bottomless chute. the fat chicken is so plump that she gets stuck in the chute, and bunny has to give her an extra thwack on the head to get her to go down. very amusing timing.

back at home, mama and fritz are both listening to the radio for an update on their son. mama exclaims tearfully, “i wonder if they found my little boy...” and in a bit of tex avery genius, the radio announcer answers in a deadpan voice “no we didn’t, lady.” a staple that would be used in many a cartoon!

at the radio station, joe dougherty voices a hayseed, stuttering bird with an overbite (a parallel to his role as a hayseed, stuttering dog with an overbite in into your dance) struggling to recount the tongue twister of simple simon. after awhile, the bird gets tired of his OWN act, muttering “oh well, shucks.” and hitting the gong himself and tugging on the rope that would send him into oblivion. elsewhere, a bird reads a telegram out loud, delivered by the telegram boy. she pronounces each “stop” (as i mentioned in my last review, since there is no morse code equivalent to a period, telegrams would use “stop” instead), and we pan over to owl jolson and jack bunny. however, the bird continues to read each stop, growing louder and louder, and we pan back over to see the telegram boy repeatedly attempting to hug her while she keeps shouting “stop!” ain’t sexual harassment funny??? in terms of technicality, it’s a very well structured gag, but is in poor taste and doesn’t feel as funny as it should.

nevertheless, jack bunny asks “well, what’s your name, son?” owl eagerly hands him his very own card, proudly displaying the words “owl jolson” in red ink. he gives a happy salute, and thus formally starts the musical number. it’s been rumored that singer johnnie davis provided the singing voice, but i don’t think that’s true. it still sounds like bond to me, and even when i heard him singing in my green fedora as peter i knew he voiced owl jolson right away, connecting it back to this scene. i could be wrong! but i doubt they hired a separate person for singing. nevertheless, as i’ve repeatedly mentioned, the song is criminally catchy and the animation is cute and fun. bunny is immediately impressed, his defensive glower melting into a gleeful grin.

mama catches wind of her own son back at home, hearing his voice singing on the radio. once more, bob clampett animates mama dragging her entire family outside, happily declaring “it’s him at the radio station!” owl has clearly won bunny’s heart, already displaying the hearty first prize trophy on his desk while he dances along ecstatically to the music.

at long last, the owl family arrives at the station, and they can hardly believe it. everyone crowds around the window outside, peering inside with awestruck disbelief. just as owl as surely clinched the award, he catches a glance of his family and freezes up immediately. now terrified and fearing the worst, he reverts back to his nasally rendition of “drink to me only with thine own eyes”. bunny can’t believe it, even pausing to take his cigar out in disbelief as he ogles at his star pupil. he shoves aside the first prize trophy, ready to pounce.

thankfully, the owl family notices this and they all rush inside. just as bunny is about to call it a day, raising the faithful hammer, fritz cries “STOP! STOP! STOP!!!” he rushes to his previously disavowed son, once more repeating “enough, it’s too much!” but in an entirely different context. a very clever parallel. slowly he attempts to coerce owl back into his song, urging him that it’s okay. “you want to singa! about your moon-a and your june-a and your spring-a, go on and singa!”

hesitant at first, owl picks up his rendition, and in no time things are back to normal. a relieved and ecstatic jack bunny snags the first prize trophy and hands it to owl, shaking his hand. a very endearing, happy, ultimately feel good scene as the entire owl family dances behind their star, the entire family giving one last chorus of “we love to sing!” iris out... leaving the first prize trophy on the black screen. owl pries the iris open and collects his prize, irising out for good (a gag that would be recycled in another avery cartoon, porky’s garden, though porky angrily pries his cash prize away from the clutches of a greedy gardener instead).

a lot to unpack, but all you need to know: a great short that is absolutely worth the watch. if you haven’t seen it already, watch it! if you have, watch it again! one of those cartoons that everyone knows or has at least heard of. do i think this is tex’s best cartoon? probably not. but i DO think this is a major turning point for warner bros. tex saved the studio by shunning the disney attitude instead of adopting it, and this cartoon reflects that. a strong, solid plot with amusing gags (such as the radio bit) would eventually become the norm for the upcoming cartoons. the songs were really beginning to be put on the back burner, and eventually dropped altogether—i don’t have an official date for the last merrie melody to feature a song, but probably anywhere from 1938 to 1939.

i argue that the success of this cartoon lies in the personality moreso than the song. absolutely the song is a big contributor. very catchy, fun to sing, and one that everyone knows. but i don’t think the cartoon is great just BECAUSE of the song. many of the merrie melodies have a lot of great songs, but have faded into obscurity because of weak plots or personality. when was the last time you saw someone lauding harman and ising’s we’re in the money? a very popular song no doubt, but it isn’t held to the same candle as i love to singa because the personality is so staunch. no memorable characters or emotions or motivations or what have you.

all of the personalities are strong, subtle or not. owl has a strong personality, even though 90% of his dialogue is singing. where he begrudgingly sings “drink to me only with thine eyes”, glaring and moping, kicking his feet or making mocking expressions, pausing to give a few breathless verses of “i love to singa”... strong personality. fritz owl has a very strong personality, if not overbearing. 10 seconds into the cartoon and you already know he hates jazz, holding so much contempt for it that he has a sign outside of his house to advertise it. the mother another strong figure, caring deeply for her son and even calling the police to get her son back. even jack bunny, who only says one line in the entire cartoon. it’s obvious he’s fed up with listening to the same old amateur hour acts, and his genuine glee at the freshness of owl’s act feels real and relatable. pair all this with a catchy song and you have yourself a deal.

i think, at the same time, this follows the formula of a lot of tex’s merrie melodies at the time, and i suppose it may be just a bit (for lack of a better term) overrated. not in a bad way, but it isn’t STAUNCHLY different from other merrie melodies tex has been pumping out. but with that said, it’s still a classic and a great short that you certainly need to watch. it’s definitely a spirit raiser.

link!

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} let loss reveal it

Fandom:  Critical Role (Wildemount Campaign) Rating:  T Warnings: Discussion of death, major character death Characters:  Caleb Widogast, Nott the Brave, Keg, Beauregard Word Count:  1,912

Here on AO3.

MAJOR SPOILERS for episode 26. I’m tagging it, but putting it here too. This isn’t exactly a fix-it fic, but it’s not dark. I can’t write anything without hope.

Title from the Florence + the Machine song St Jude.

Summary:  

People deal with grief in different ways. Everything falls apart, but nothing is ever lost.

__________________

They didn’t move, for a while.

They didn’t move as the sound of the wagons faded into the distance. They didn’t move as it started snowing lightly.

They didn’t move as the still form of Mollymauk Tealeaf was slowly dusted with white.

It was Beau who moved first. She stood, and even from a distance, the others could see that she was shaking violently, bare arms wrapped around herself in a futile effort to still the movement. “Molly, you fucker, get up,” she choked out.

“Beauregard…” Caleb said softly from where he was huddled in a growing snowdrift. “He won’t wake.”

“Fuck that.” Beau stumbled over to Molly’s body, collapsing back to her knees like they couldn’t support her anymore. “C’mon, Molly. C’mon, you bastard, you don’t just get to leave, get your purple ass out of the snow and help us –” Her words were cut off with a harsh sob from the back of her throat.

“I shoulda known better,” Keg said, eyes shadowed. “We were never gonna win. There was no way all of us were walkin’ out of there alive.”

“Then why didn’t you fucking tell us that, asshole?” Beau snarled.

“’Cause you all were so fuckin’ hopeful, that’s why!” Keg bit out. Her hand flexed on her axe, gripping it white-knuckled and then going limp in turns. “’Cause I got to thinking that maybe we could actually do this thing. I – I didn’t realize… the group’d changed since I was with ‘em.” Her head dropped slightly. “And then I froze. I saw Lorenzo, and I just… fuckin’ froze. What happened to your friend is my fault.”

Nott crept towards hero on all fours, looking more bestial than usual, her yellow eyes still drowning slitted pupils. “It’s no one’s fault,” she said, her creaking voice soft. “Molly… he… he knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t want us blaming ourselves. Not even you, Keg.”

Keg’s gaze lifted slightly as Nott set a gentle, clawed hand on her leg. “Thanks,” she rasped. “I don’t deserve it. But thanks.”

Caleb stood now, picking himself up out of the snow and brushing his coat off, automatically patting the sides to make sure his books were still in their holsters. “We cannot sit here forever,” he said, and though his voice was distant, it was clear. “More snow is coming. We have to…” His voice faltered. “I do not think any of us could go far without a long rest. But we should at least build a fire, ah, be sheltered.”

“But what about Molly?” Nott asked, her voice quivering. “Do we…” She twitched, her ears flicking back like a swatted cat. “Do we bury him?”

Caleb looked towards her. “No,” he said, and there was ice in his eyes. “No, my friend. All is not lost.”

“How isn’t it?” Beau snapped. “He’s dead, Caleb.”

“You think there is no coming back from death?” Caleb asked. “Especially for one such as him? He has already cheated Her once. We may not have Jester with us, but as long as – as long as we make sure he has a body to come back to…” He faltered again for a moment, his eyes flicking away from the crumpled form in the snow. “There are ways,” he resumed. His jaw set, and Nott recognized the look he got whenever he talked about growing powerful enough to shape reality. “There is magic in this world. I do not know about the rest of you, but I am not about to let Mollymauk go without a fight.”

Slowly, Nott’s ears lifted. “You really think… we could bring him back?”

“I do not doubt it, my friend.” With a steady stride, Caleb walked to Molly’s side. He crouched down beside him, sliding gentle fingers to close his blank red eyes, their embers gone. “Wait here,” he instructed the other three.

“Ain’t got nothing else to do,” Keg said.

Beau nodded, then swayed, crumpling from her kneeling position.

“Whoa, whoa,” Caleb said, grabbing her as she collapsed. “Oh, ah, fire first, then. We do not want you dying as well, Beauregard.”

“’M fine,” Beau mumbled, but sagged against Caleb.

“Nott?” Caleb said. “Can you and Keg build a fire? Beauregard is not going to last long unless she gets warm. Also, she has a cloak in one of our packs. Get that out, please.”

Nott nodded, immediately skittering over to where their packs were stowed and retrieving Beau’s cloak and a tinderbox. “There isn’t much in the way of wood around,” she said nervously.

“We must make do,” Caleb said, sitting down and pulling Beau into his arms. “Stay awake, Beauregard,” he said softly, uncertainly rubbing his hands down her bare, shivering arms. “It will all be fine. We have a pact, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Beau muttered, but curled tightly into Caleb’s arms.

Keg stood up, hefting her axe. “Well, looks like we have some wood right here,” she said, and brought her axe down on one of the tree trunks. She did it again, and again, until they could hear her huffs of exertion and she had a pile of wood in reasonable-sized pieces.

“I can get the fire started,” Nott said, brushing her arm over the ground to clear a patch of snow.

Within a few minutes, there was a steadily burning fire, and Caleb tugged Beau to it as much as he could. “There,” he said, taking the cloak Nott handed him and wrapping it around Beau’s shoulders. “That is better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Beau closed her eyes and sighed.

“Nott?” Caleb requested softly. “Would you, ah, go get my silver thread?”

“Yeah, sure, Caleb,” Nott said, darting off into the grey of the snow.

Keg plopped down next to the fire. “You really think you can get your friend back?” she grunted, resting her forearms on bent knees.

“I do not think,” Caleb said. “I know. Mollymauk was –” He broke off, and for the first time, his calm exterior cracked, showing a hint of devastation. “Mollymauk Tealeaf is one of the bravest people I have ever met. But more than that, he… is the happiest.

“I am not a happy person, Keg,” he said, shifting Beau in his arms. She was still shivering, but less so, and it appeared she’d fallen asleep – the deep sleep of the truly exhausted. “I do not know if you have noticed in the short time we have known each other. I do not say this as a good thing or a bad thing; it is the truth.” With a motion of his hand, he summoned Frumpkin, and the owl soared down, settling down on his shoulder and fluffing out his feathers.

“He seemed like a good guy,” Keg agreed.

“Good,” Caleb mused. “That is one word for it. Mollymauk… he has so much joy in him. It is unlike anything I have seen before. Even Jester –” He broke off again. “She is one of the ones who was taken. She is happy, and good, but she has sadness in her heart. Mollymauk’s heart is all light.”

“Not sure what you mean.”

“It is like… to be around him, it is like standing in the sun,” Caleb said softly, his fingers finding Beau’s hair and petting it like he would do to cat-Frumpkin’s fur. “He gives away smiles and coins like they mean nothing. They do not. Not to him.” He sighed. “He gave away his life similarly. Without thought. Without hesitation.”

Keg studied him, an inscrutable look on her face. “Sounds like he’s real special to you.”

Caleb laughed, half-nervously and half-scornfully. “Not in the way you think. It is not that I… hmm.” He glanced over to Molly’s body, then back. “Mollymauk is a very special person to me, ja,” he said at last. “I do not want this to be the last I see of him. The three of us… Beauregard and Nott and I… we cannot do this on our own. We are all… dark people.”

“You don’t seem so dark,” Keg objected.

When Caleb laughed this time, it was undeniably bitter. “Oh, you would be surprised,” he said, and the flames flickered in his ice-blue eyes. “I have done unspeakable things. Unforgivable things. Probably worse things than your friends.”

“Don’t call them that.”

Caleb lifted his eyes slightly at the sudden venom in her voice. “I apologize,” he said. “I am only saying… ach. Mollymauk is the best one of us. He is… our moral compass. He makes sure we stay on the right path. Beauregard and I, we try to keep each other, ah, straight, but it is hard when there are two people so similar.”

“You and Beau don’t seem similar to me at all,” Keg objected.

Caleb’s brow furrowed. “I know. And yet, I find a strange… kinship with her,” he said slowly. “We, perhaps, have the same view of the world. Seeing it as the fucked-up place it is. Mollymauk… does not. Not to say,” he added, “that Mollymauk is foolish. He is not. But he can see the joy in the world in a way the three of us do not. He… keeps us afloat, so to speak.”

“I found your thread, Caleb,” Nott said softly, creeping forward and holding it out to him before sitting down beside him.

“Oh, thank you, Nott,” Caleb said with a twitch of his head. “Here. Take Beauregard for me.”

“Ah – ooh, okay,” Nott said doubtfully as Caleb shifted Beau off him and onto the ground, her head half in Nott’s lap. “If you say so.”

“I need to do something,” Caleb explained. He got up and went over to Molly’s body. Slowly, methodically, he unwound his silver thread, and, murmuring a few words in Zemnian, started threading it around Molly’s body.

It was almost mesmerizing in the firelight. The silver thread shimmered slightly in the air, and the orange light caught the bright colors of Molly’s coat, stained red.

Finally, Caleb completed his spell and stepped back. “That should keep him safe for the night,” he said, tucking the spool into an inside pocket of his coat. “Tomorrow, we will go on towards Shady Creek Run. There must be someone there who will know the spells that will bring him back.”

“But, Caleb, aren’t those spells expensive?” Nott asked.

“We will do what needs to be done,” Caleb said. “We have things to sell. We have performed tasks before. We can offer services, goods. Whatever they want. Whatever they need.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Keg asked gruffly. “If you can’t find someone, or his soul’s gone, or somethin’ like that?”

“We will burn that bridge when we come to it,” Caleb said, sitting down by the fire again, drawing his coat closer around him against the cold. “I trust the arcane talents of others. I trust our ingenuity in finding ways to con people into helping us.” He sighed. “And I trust Mollymauk Tealeaf,” he finished. “I trust that he loves life too much to leave it so soon.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Keg said. “I’ll, uh… I’ll take first watch. Least I can do.”

Caleb nodded his gratitude, lying down and scooting in close to Beau and Nott to retain as much warmth as possible. “Thank you, Keg.”

The ghost of a smile that flickered across Keg’s world-weary face would have brought a bright, fanged grin to Mollymauk’s, Caleb thought before he drifted to sleep.

[bonbonswirl-blog]

Proud dad

NO ONE BELONG TO ME THEY ALL BELONG TO ONLY @brueklynn I OWN NOTHING.

anyway i was not satisfied with the last fanfic I worte at ALL, it was very bad and I wont blame you if you think that too im sorry it went like this. I decided to write this one since I got the idea. Mason is always a sweetheart btw guys! I just may have changed him a little by accident in this one. Bc im not too skilled, reminder none of this happened and not canon, all these just from my mind with some little "headcanons" from me thx.

It was just a normal day. The golden rays of sunshine caressing everyone faces, shining up the bright blue sky that gives a feeling of comfort and ease, faint chirping of birds can be heard near the trees. Mason was sitting on a bench in a park, with a little smile on his warm face, which is being tickled by the gentle gold beams. his eyes were slowly scanning the small letter in his hands, re-reading it once more after numerous of time, his fingers touched the writing of pen on the white piece of paper, as if checking if this is a true thing, And it is. His eyes drifted from the paper in his hands to the playground in front of him, The sounds of children playing echoed from the park, stomping, running and laughing. None of the worries of adults crossed their minds, only how to elude capture by their friends. The rhythmic creaking of swings went back and forth, and some kids tried to time their jumps from the swings to the rhythm. The colors of the playground equipment were still fresh and bright, despite the years of wear and the endless use. his eyes trying to search between this crowd of kids for a certain one of his own, a few years old one with messy brown hair wearing a flatcap similar to his own one, it was something he gave his child on his previous birthday, mason tried to consider it as a gift to his son as an attempt to bring some joy to his little heart, it was the only thing that was in his pocket right now. He hoped that in the next birthday he will find a better present to give for his little boy that can truly make him happy. Moments later mason had found him, merrily playing on a slide with the other kids, which made his dad smile get bigger. For a last time he looked at the letter, he was so happy that someone had finally toke notice of him and invited him for a job intrview tomorrow morning, he practiced a lot for hopes in getting that job, if he gets it, he will no longer be dependent on those small live making things that doesnt help a lot and will have enough money to provide a good life for him and his son. Looking at the sky, he noticed that the sun is going to set soon, and it will get late to walk for home, they dont live near this park. He smelled the letter as it was some fresh air then folded it to put it in his pocket, giving more five minutes for his son to play until he is going to pick him up to go home.

It was night. As the colors of the day rest the dark was covering every part of the sky. all the kids have already went to their home with their parents, the air was silent, maybe an owl or some cricket can be heard from here and there, the streets were empty, no one was walking on them, expect for a single man holding his little son hand, mason looked at his child and smiled "how was your day at the park wallaby? Did you enjoy it? " He asked wallaby, making sure his son had a good time playing and laughing with all the kids, that he was happy with where his dad brought him today. " Yes dad! I founda buncha fweinds today! We pwayed a game cawed tag your it! Ya pway it by runnin after someone and ya ne....." but mason didnt hear the rest of the talk of how wallaby is teaching him to play tag your it, because his mind was in another place, filled with thoughts of how the interview will go tomorrow, will he get the job? Will he fail? What will he do if he failed? He doesnt want that...What if he gets it? But it was harder than he expected? Will he leave it? Will he push himself to continue? Will he...

" Dad?!?!?DAd?!??! DAD?!? " His son voice distracted him of his deep thought. He guessed that he was inside his mind for too long that he couldnt hear his child. " Yes my dear? " "Ma legs huwt :<" mason smiled again and giggled at wallaby cute little pout, it could make anyone fall for him so fast, his dad knows that there is still a bit of a way for them to get to their home yet, and that wallaby had already walked long enough with his small foot, not to mention he must be tired from all the running today. " Do you want me to carry you for the rest of the way? " " YA YA YA! " Wallaby said excited at that suggestion, reaching both his short arms up in the air for mason hold him, which made mason laugh a little and lean down to hold his small baby in his arms. " Who is my little good boy? " "ME ME!! " " Yes You Are!! " Mason tickled wallaby a bit which made the small kid laugh childishly, his laugh fuel his dad heart with delight. He hugged his son gently while keeping to walk along the road. " Dad? " " Yes! my sunshine? " "I saw some of ma fweinds today tawk about who is better at studying in school! dad, what is school? " ....Mason smile went away and he was silent for a while.... he remembered that wallaby was already old enough for his age to start going to school...but he couldnt afford the money to give this child the chance to go the kindergarten like all the other kids...when will he give him the chance to start learning?... " School is a place where you go to get education dear! Kids go to there everyday to learn new things! " He tried to smile as an attempt to comfort himself and answer the child question softly. " Will I one day go to school dad?" Wallaby innocent smile wasnt enough to sweep away the little sadness that mason felt at that question, he wanted so much for wallaby to get education like all the other people, and he was ready to do whatever it costed to do so, but he know he cant... he cant find the chance. " Maybe one day you will do dear... " that even gave the dad a bigger ambition to pass the intreview tomorrow, he will work as hard as he can to give anything that is needed to his son. Wallaby was silent for a little time in his dad arms while mason just kept walking, the small one looked at his dad again to shot another question at him. " Dad im hungwy :< " that reminded mason that they both didnt really eat enough since the last two days, he is trying to save up for more important things. He wished he have the ability to give him something good to eat right now, he used a lot of energy playing today anyway. " I know my dear...how about I give you an apple when we come back home? " " But I always ate apples dad! How about some candy? " Mason laughed a little "aww my dear! You need to eat lots of vegetables and fruits to grow up! " "awwwww :< " wallaby pout never fail to make mason grin, wallaby didnt eat lots of sweets anyway...maybe in the near future he will have enough money to feed wallaby and him in a right way. They both went silent for another minutes, Out of topics to discuss. Wallaby was thinking about something, he looked at his dad once more to ask a new question, a lot More serious this time... " dad?.." " yes wallaby? " "I....today when we were leavin the pawk.....I saw lotta kids standing next to a....woman....evewy kid have their own woman! The women were holdin their childwen hands just wike ya do to me...and the kids all tawk about their day with them just like I do now...the women seems to be with them...evewyday and evewywhere...like they are with them evewy second!...dad do I....do I.....do I have a woman who take cawe of me wike all those kids do?....."

Mason stopped walking.

He felt his chest starting to ache.

He didnt expect that one day wallaby will wonder why he have no mother like the other kids.

That he will start missing her....

he have no idea what to tell his son now.....he cant just tell him that he doesnt have one....what is he going to do now.....how can he tell his son the cold bitter truth....he cant...he is even so young to know about it...what is he going to do...

" Dad?...." ...wallaby was scared about his dad sudden hush...did he make him mad? he started to get worried now.... "...wallaby........I......" mason was out of words....he moved his head to the side... avoiding eye contacts with his son, looking at the ground shamfully...his eyes no longer have any shine or bright when he hears the gladness in his son voice whenever he talks about about a joyful thing he tried, or when he achieved any small victory. Mason finally gave up, he couldnt ignore his son like this any longer, he need to say something to wallaby.... mason toke a deep sigh...returning his head to look at his little boy who is laying in his arms, wallaby didnt look cheerful as he was a minute ago...he was looking to his side, with a frown in his little mouth, the dirt blush on his cheeks wasnt as red as when he is talking gaily with his adorable puffy cheeks, but they werent puffy anymore...the boy flatcap was going to fall down from his head soon, funny how he can keep it still on his head while running and jumping everywhere all day, wallaby didnt feel really ok at this point...

Mason looked with a grievous look at him before beggining to speak..... "wallaby...listen to me... " his voice was heavy with shame, the same way his guilt wheighed down upon his shoulders, that made his son look at him in the face again, but the expressions still the same. " my little sunshine......you do....you do have a woman like them too...this woman is called...a mother...the mom is the person who brought the life to her children...toke care of them from childhood until adulthood, she is always there to share with her children the laughs, smiles and their happiest moments, always there to comfort them in the sorrow, fear and their hardest moments, she is always the shelter from every harm, the guardian from every enemy, the key for every solution, she will always support her kids no matter what happen in any time and any place....every mom love is always with her kids forever wallaby... all the moms are great! And you should know wallaby that...you have a mom...like them all...but you wont be lonely because im here with you..."

Mason voice was soft, almost fragile, as if it and his heart would break any minute. Perhaps his heart was already broken...broken to bits from the harsh cruel world....mason was never really good with coping with the loss... The sadness flowed through his veins like a flowing river, cold and unending, deadened his mind. It was a poison to his spirit, dulling him, killing off the other emotions he felt when talking to his precious son until it was the only one that remained. He learned that anyone can be a pareng...but not anyone can be a family...He wanted very badly to tell wallaby that lucy still loves him, she still love her family...love them...love them a lot to the point that she left them.....he have no idea where she is now after she dissapeared, its been a long time, but for some reason, he cant fully let her go, she left a hole in his heart that can not be fixed, wallaby is now the only thing that still bring some life in mason dead core, he promised from the day he was left alone with the kid, that he will do everything to make sure he is living safe and sound..

The small wallaby face began to draw a pure smile again, his flatcap back in place, his hued eyes are back to their bright, he got up a bit from his dad arms. "I knew it! I knew I had one too wike them! Dad? Will I eva meet her?!" "Maybe one day sunshine....maybe one day...." mason couldnt bring himself to say no to this one...he doesnt know if wallaby will ever meet her...he may not ever find her, He hugged wallaby more tightly and began taking faster steps, this chat already broke his heart enough and he wants to get home to rest for a busy day tomorrow...good thing wallaby slept on their way home.

The next morning came as usuall, the sun rised, sent its woven strands, free and united, to flow into the sky for revealing and solidifying a new day. Mason used to wake up late, but this time he was early, today is the day, his plan is simple, go the inreview, success, and go to the job. He wasnt very content, he felt nervous, looking after every way that this can go wrong with. Last night wasnt the best for him, it made him re-think about his life with wallaby and how he is going to raise him. he was standing at the door, preparing himself to bring his legs to work straight to the place of that job, but before he can move the handle, he heard a voice behind him

" Dad?.. "

He turned around to see that his son had already woke up, standing confused there with a large jacket around him, it was so large that the jacket ends were on the floor, wiping it wherever the boy go, he looked like a child who have jacket that should be wore by only adults wrapped around him, which is the truth, wallaby always wear it to bed, using it insted of a blanket. " wallaby...uh why are you up so early dear? " " Dad whewe are ya goin? we gonna go to work now? " Mason smiled and kneeled down to put his hands on wallaby shoulders " did you know I got an intrview today? Im going to try to get a job! If i got it! We gonna have enough money to eat properly and go to school to learn! " Wallaby was happy hearing this, it made him almost jump " reawy? Yaaaaay! Wait! But dad! Ya will need ma help! " Mason smiled and ruffled wallaby messy hair " aww my little one, when you grow up you will have your own job to take care of! " When mason turned around to open the door again, wallaby voice stopped him. " but dad! Ya cawt go! " Mason looked behind once more " but why dear? " "Becawse....im gonna be so lonely without ya! " Mason was surprised a bit, wallaby stayed home by himself a lot of times, why is he going to feel lonely staying today? " But sunshine...you always stay home alone by yourself, why are you going to feel lonely today?" " Becawse...I awways hewped ya in your work...this time I wont be there to hewp ya! Ya will awways go to work without me! ya will feel alone! and i will stay more time at home and feel alone! Ya cant leave me dad! Pwease stay here with me.. " after hearing this, mason felt sad, again. He didnt know that wallaby actually felt happy working with him and that he felt so lonely when he all alond without, but he cant do anything about it. "dear...im sorry...but...I cant do anything to help that...please im doing that for you...just stay here and you will find me soon at home..." " but dad! I cant let ya go! Pwease stay! Arent ya my mama? " Whenever someone mention the word 'mom' mason never feel so good. "what?.... " " arent ya my mama? Ya awways pway with me and take cawe of me like all the mamas do! " Mason didnt know his opinion about this kind of thought. " Uh, my little boy, im not your mother...im your father.. " " but ya stiw take care of me! Like any mama! I wont let ya go dad...why dont ya stay hewe and tell me more stories about my mama! " Mason now REALLY didnt feel so good about this one...reminding him of lucy by any chance can make him lose it all...worst idea to think about..." ....wallaby...I need...to go......maybe at night... " " but dad! Pwease! " " goodbye wallaby " "Stay with me! " " Im coming back at night " "dad come on!" Mason tried to get out the house but wallaby was still following him, he cant go anywhere, he stayed standing there, listening to his son conmplains, he already know he made him late enough, almost all of wallaby suggestions was to talk about lucy, lucy lucy and only lucy, that name bring a chill to him whenever he hears it, that made him re-think about last night. A bad memory for him... no. more, About the past, oh..why did she left them? He knows the reason, but was he already the full reason? Or....did wallaby have anything to do with this? Every thought made him dig deeper and deeper in the...unwanted memeories, he cant get himself to get out of his mind and go to the inreview, all he think about now was who fault it was.

" Wallaby...I think you really need to stop now!! "

And that was the first time that mason rised his voice a little at wallaby, and honsetly, wallaby was very surprised, his dad never rised his tone like that at him before, he always talk too soft and gentle with him, so excited yo hear about his day. But now he didnt look to be in the mood to do that.

" Dad.... " " wallaby you must stay here! " " But da- " "im already late for this i need to go! " "pwease da-" "bye. "and with that mason closed the door behind him completely. leaving the house, and leaving the young child to spend another day at his home on his own. Mason was on the streets running, he felt like a lot of pressure and stress on him have been realesed when he got angry, now there is no more complaining about lucy and her absence.....but...he didnt feel alright yet...he felt.....regret....it was so heavy...he felt his heart carrying a heavy weigh...or that there are rocks in his chest...that didnt make him feel well by any chance, he tried to ignore it but it was a lot not to feel something...he felt so alone...he started getting cold...a feeling he didnt sense long ago...cause his body and heart always felt warm whenever he used to be alongside his son..but now he feels like he left him...he did...he feel like he did a mistake..he didnt mean it...he didnt mean to do that at all....he was just pressured and sad to rememeber a doleful memory...he didnt meant to hurt anyone...he wished he could go back and change something of what just happened..but now he cant, all he can do now is pass this intreview.

The night had fallen upon the land, the sky left with only a matt black canvas with no stars to be looked upon. The darkness was thick, mason path was hardly lit, if a normal person cant see good in this dark then this only made mason sight worse.  The interview went..........fine..........it wasnt what he was really looking for...and that was dissatisfied....but all what mason could care about is returning to his home and check something, rather someone....Other than the darkness and himself all that seemed to exist was the chilly wind thats harsh bite could be felt through the man skin. He could feel the hairs on his arms rise and the bite of the wind had left its mark in the form of small bumps that were tingling on his arms, but its bite was more than flesh deep. His blood ran cold through his veins and his bones were chilled. but the heat of what he was wearing did not reach his skin at all, mason know why, after what he done today he knew that today will not be a pretty day at all. The cold wind could be felt that its his inner repent, after what felt like days he saw his home, he may not see a lot good but it he could recognize his house, he stayed in the chilly wind for a few minutes, what is he going to do and say when gef back home?....

He sighed and gently opened the door, waiting to see someone in front of him when he do, to his surprise, there wasnt anyone....the house felt so quiet.....

so empty....

" Wallaby? " He called for his son, waiting for a reply, but none came. "Wallaby? " He called again. began walking around the house, maybe his son just didnt hear him..but he began to sweat.. " wallaby...?... " he searched everywhere in the house, the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, he couldnt find him! There was only one place left...the bedroom, he ran to there, seriously hoping that wallaby is here insode the house. He entered the bedroom and turned on the lights panicking.........then sighed.......wallaby was there...sleeping on the bed that they both together share....wearing the same jacket he woke up with around him...mason smiled a little at the view. With the corner of his eyes he toke a glance of some small crayons and a drawing white paper on the ground, he went to that drawing and picked it up to see what did wallaby draw while he was out, he slowly looked into it.

It was drawn in a chidish way, with simple colors of crayons...if mason not wrong, one of the two people in it was him, having a smile on his face, next to him a smaller figure, he wasnt sure at first if thats wallaby, that figure had a colorfull hair, and a red dot to where seemed to be the nose, that figure short arms were stretched and some different colored dots where around him. Was that a clown? Why would wallaby draw his dad with a short clown next to him playing with some balls?! But suddenly it hit him..he remembered...

Wallaby previous birthday....at that day, mason only concern was to give his child a little happy party...but he couldnt even afford a cake...let alone a present...when he came back home that day all what he brought was just a red ballon, but he didnt want the birthday to just go by like that, he wanted to try and give wallaby any kind of gift, the only idea in his head was to dress as a clown and try to impress wallaby or make him laugh. He made wallaby sit on the ground and just got some random things to try and throw in the air and catch them again, which was a fail, wallaby didnt do anything, other than sitting there with a stare, when mason thought about giving up he slipped on something and fell down, that did hurt a bit, but wallaby laughed a lot! Which made mason not regret this at all and laughed with his kid "Hahahha! That was so funny dad! Why ya dressin like that? :D " " Haha...i was trying to be like a clown son! " "a clown? Oooh! So today is dressin as diffwent people day? " " Heh..I guess? " " Yaaay! Imma dress like ya dad! " Wallaby looked right and left to find something that can make him look like his dad, luckily he noticed his dad flatcap and grapped it to put it on his head " look dad! Im ya! I love my son a lot! We both get books and stare at them together! " Mason laughed because that was actually funny and true, they both cant read correctly which lead them to just stare at any book they try to read. Mason got up and put a hand on the flatcap that was on wallaby head " and this, my dear son...is my birthday gift to you...happy birthday! " Wallaby eyes looked like they were starry and he touched his dad flatcap with both his hands " wooooow!! Rewwy! Thanks dad!! " wallaby jumped on his dad giving him a tight hug, to which mason gladly gave back.

Mason now got what the drawing is talking about, in wallaby birthday party he tried to make him laugh so he can feel better...now..wallaby saw his dad was angry..and wanted him to laugh again...so he dressed as a clown and tried to make his dad smile again...just like he did to him...mason looked up the two figures to see a childish writing, its may not be written right but he tried as hard as he can to read it.

' Am srry dad u ar angre, i wont u 2 smail plz, i lov u '

Mason felt he is going to cry.

He learned it, nothing in this world can ever be above his only family. He put the drawing on a table, turned off the lights, and layed down next to wallaby, though his small son was sleeping to his side, mason hugged him from behing carefully and whispered softly.

" Im so sorry I neglected you today my precious sunshine...I wont do it again...the words wont describe how much I love you, I will be your mama and dada...and will take care of you for every moment...I am a proud dad to have you...no matter what wallaby....you will always make me proud. "

[authorellenmint]

Hawke entertains three children who approach her doorstep with four stories to scare the pants off 'em. And who should she use for characters in her horror stories but those companions she knows so well?

Needing to focus and finding it impossible in the puss-ridden city, a young man set out for the solitude of the deep woods. An old cabin squatted far off the road between the skeletal trees of a dying forest. Battered and grey as an urn, the roof's bowed edges and partially boarded up windows twisted and warped the bones of the place until it looked as if the entire structure was about to lunge forward and devour the man.

No, Anders shook his head. He was being superstitious. There was nothing wrong with the cabin the dwarf told him about. It was perfect for what he needed. Solitude and quiet, nothing more. The inside reeked of decay and age, but Anders cracked open the windows allowing a warm autumn wind to swipe away the stench of death in the air.

Rather cramped, all things considered. There was a sitting room with a few chairs scattered about a rug. The charred fireplace loomed against an entire wall, so great it could burn bodies whole inside. Beside him sat a ladder, which led up to the tucked away loft designed to hold a small bed. A nice amenity, but all Anders truly needed was the desk resting near the back of the cabin.

Carved from real cherry wood, with orange firelight dancing against the grain it almost looked as if the desk itself was bleeding. The ink pot was dug in deep into the desktop to prevent spills, which Anders quickly refilled from his stash. As the final drop of black splattered into its new glass home, he pulled free his quills. They were a masterpiece to behold, as he'd tell people endlessly on, and on, and on because talking about quills is so much fun.

I mean, they were beautiful, plucked from the tails of no two similar birds. A dove's was cut at a strong 45 degree angle, giving him a thick point. From an owl, he achieved the finest line imaginable, barely a hair's breadth upon the page. But his real favorite, the one he relied upon constantly, came from a startled raven. Blacker than the ink it wrote with, when Anders held that feather in his fingers, no words were walled off from him. His hand would dash for hours and hours without end.

Which was what he needed. With a flourish of his fingers, he yanked open the book, sat in the unflinching writing chair, and began to manufacture his manifesto.

The candle burned ever lower, Anders eyes only wandering away from his screed against tyranny to note the fire's level. Hours had to have passed before he paused, the beloved raven's quill dipping into the ink to rest a moment. "Maker's breath," he groaned to himself, struggling to stretch out the crick in his neck.

"Hello..."

Anders whipped his head around, his heart holding in place. Did he just hear that? The cabin was far too tiny for anyone to hide inside -- from the desk he could see every inch save the loft. Great. That'd be just like the dwarf to tell him about the cabin, then sneak ahead and hide in it to mess with him. Or Isa...some other woman who's not the pirate queen from earlier. Running a hand against his blonde scruff, Anders hauled himself up the ladder fast.

The bed was built into the cabin itself, only the mattress capable of being changed out over time -- which at the moment appeared to be extra lumpy almost as if it held an unexpected addition. Cracking his knuckles, Anders waited a moment while watching the lumps. Whoever was here to annoy him knew to remain perfectly still.

Latching onto the sheet, Anders gave a great yank while shouting, "Got you, you sneaky bast...!"

Three pillows lay upon the naked bed, none of which were capable of giving a cheery hello. Even still, Anders jammed a hand into each to see if anyone could be hiding deeper in. "Getting jumpy," he sighed, already certain he imagined the voice.

Sliding down the ladder, he moved to scrounge up a bit of food out of his pack, when his eyes caught a glint against the afternoon light. A sliver of metal was hidden below a rug. Curious, Anders flung the rug back to expose a massive metal door built into the bottom of the cabin. A lock the size of his fist shackled the two doors together. Only one reason someone keeps their cellar locked, either that's where they hide all the valuables they stole as bandits, or the bodies they killed as murderers.

He should really let it go. Return to his writing. There was a lot left to do after all. Anders shifted towards the desk, but his eyes refused to leave the lock. They hungered for it, ached with curiosity. Needed to sunder the thing and see what lay below. "Besides," he shrugged to himself, "if there's anything valuable I might be doing someone a service in finding it."

Certain in that little lie to himself, he drew forth fire against the lock. Oh yeah, he's a mage. With blonde hair and tends to wear a lot of bandages despite not being hurt. Never really understood why but...right, the story. The lock didn't just fall apart, it fully melted, dripping against the doors until it was forever joined with them. And the secret basement forever unsealed.

After the metal bits cooled, Anders hauled open the doors. Impenetrable darkness circled the air below. A great chill danced up Anders' spine as he rubbed against his arms. "Well," he laughed to himself, "this is why mage fire was created." Rising up the veil on his hand, he peered deep into the pit. Whatever was inside waited so far down it may as well rest in the core of thedas itself. But Anders was a stubborn son of a...ass. And when he got something in his mind, oh let me tell you, there was no talking him out of it. No matter how stupid.

"Nice of someone to leave a ladder," the man continued to talk to himself while easing down into the creepy cellar, in the creepy cabin, in the middle of the creepy woods. His words pinged against the packed earth slipping further and further away, acting as a way to convince himself he wasn't truly alone. When his boots struck against ground, Anders took a deep breath.

There could be bodies, or monsters, or monsters made out of bodies. Who knows in this world. Prepared for anything that thedas could throw at him, the man turned on his heel, lifted up his lighted hand, and stared into the abyss.

Nothing.

There was nothing in the small cellar. Even the shelves burrowed into the earth itself were picked clean. Not a jar, not a gold coin, not even a finger bone. It was as empty as a revenant's grave. "A whole lot of buildup for nothing," Anders whined, kicking at the packed dirt.

He began to climb back up the ladder, but a foul wind crested against the back of his neck. Instinctively, Anders wiped against it but felt nothing save his own hide. "Just a breeze," he muttered to himself while climbing, but deep in the recesses of his brain he wondered how it could have been warm.

Slamming the basement shut and returning the rug, Anders sat down at the desk and resumed his writing. It carried on deep into the night, the words flowing like rivers of water but with words. Good words, really. All those magey words about mage things. Exhausted but pleased with the pages of his never ending manifesto he put down, Anders left the book open to dry while he pulled himself up to bed to get some sleep.

The fade came quickly to him, but he didn't dream as normal. It was all dark jagged edges and flashes of red, with the sound of footsteps clanging against stairs, and fists pounding upon metal. Underneath it all, he heard a voice barely legible but clearly in distress, begging for him to leave.

When Anders woke, sweat perforated his brow. He gasped in a breath, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "Gah!" he groaned, struggling to work out a fresh crick in his neck. Sleeping in a new bed was always such a pain.

"So's growing old," he muttered to himself. Shaking off the nightmares clinging to him like a crusty towel, Anders was prepared to face a new day. Even through the odd dreams, he had a few revelations he couldn't wait to get onto parchment. With a spring in his body, even if it was cramped from the day before, Anders slid off the ladder and stepped towards his work.

LEAVE!

Etched in red ink across two pages of what he spent all of yesterday writing was that single word. Damn it! Anders snarled, pacing around in a circle while the rage boiled in his veins. He spent hours writing down everything on those pages and someone...someone comes along and defiles it like that! They were going to pay. No doubt it was the dwarf having a laugh somewhere.

More certain than ever that someone had to be hiding in the cabin, Anders prodded into every nook and cranny he could find. He even jabbed a finger into a few mouse holes, but every single one came up empty. There was no one here, save himself.

Maybe whoever did it skipped on back to Kirkwall, Anders tried to convince himself. It made sense. Mess with him, then vanish, thereby messing with him twice. Sounded like a dwarf thing to do. Or maybe the elf. Trying to calm the snarl in his heart, Anders dug back into his work.

First he had to recopy his old words without the red stain, then he was free to continue onward. As his anger cooled to justice, the words came yet again. It seemed as if the cabin fueled his muse, atrocities committed against his people laid out in plain black and white for any to understand. By the time he looked up from his work, he blinked in surprise at the candle burned to nothing more than a stub of liquid tallow.

Breath dancing against the wick, smoke curled around his head while he smiled at his work. Pleased, and certain no one would dare mess with it tonight, Anders trailed up into his little bed and fell fast to sleep. The dreams were deeper than before, an endless void with scars of red gouged into the side's of his eyes. He couldn't stop flinching, the voice in the background growing louder. "Leave!" it all but screamed at him, causing the fade to rip away and leave him gasping for breath in his bed.

Dawn's light radiated through the windows a few hours strong, but Anders felt exhausted. He placed a hand to his forehead and groaned at the deadness in his veins. It felt as if he hadn't slept a wink instead of the full night. Scrubbing off his cheeks, his fingers glanced against his neck and he hissed at a blinding pain. That damn crick wouldn't vanish for anything.

Shaking it off, because he's good at ignoring obvious problems, Anders stepped slowly down the ladder. What he needed was food, and a long drink of water. His tongue lay parched to the roof of his mouth, his throat raw as if it'd been screaming all night. Laughing at the thought, he moved to reach for a carafe left beside the sitting chairs, when his eyes darted over to the desk.

"No!" he shrieked, the water splattering through the air as he slammed the cup down.

LEAVE!

It stretched from the entire margins of the book until someone dug the quill deep into the desk itself. "Who's doing this?!" he snarled, the blood in his body pounding as he whipped his head back and forth to find the culprit.

Another search of the cabin commenced, but again nothing was found. No one. He even took a look around the area outside to see if there was a tent or campsite, but only the cautious trill of birds flitting through dead branches filled the air. If it weren't for the constant vandalism, he would be dead certain he was completely alone.

"It's got to be the elf," he growled to himself, dragging his weary body to the chair. With a resigned sigh, stubborn Anders once again copied over the graffitied pages and ripped free the ones stained in red. Stuffing them with the last two, he hurled all four into a desk drawer that only carried cobwebs, and got back to proper work.

Rabid dog or no, he wasn't about to give up on his cause. It beat in his veins, carried in his blood stronger than anything else in his life. But Anders was weary, and he only lasted until the horizon began to shift to orange and purple. If he got in a good sleep tonight, and didn't have to restart tomorrow, then he might be able to finish this soon.

With a smartass smirk on his lips, and an idea in his heart, Anders closed his book and glanced around the quiet cabin. The fireplace! No one would ever think to look there for his manifesto in order to defile it there. Lifting up the remains of a half charred log, Anders stashed his book for safekeeping. His hands were coated in black soot from his plan, which he wiped down his pants without thought.

There, safe and sound and no surprises in the morning. A great yawn ripped through Anders' throat and he stretched his arms wide. Exhausted beyond measure, he could barely make it up the ladder to the bed before tumbling deep into an unbreakable sleep.

The dreams wouldn't come. There was no sight. No colors. Not even a voice, just the unending darkness as his body twisted inside of the void. A warm breath danced against the dream Anders' ear and he winced. In turning his head around, as if he could see through the impenetrable night, a voice screamed all around him.

"LEAVE!"

He tried to sit up, his brains rattling from the bone rending scream, but he felt too weak to rise. The crick enflamed at the side of his neck, pain throbbing to the back of his skull and across his shoulder. "Maker damn this cursed bed," Anders grimaced while trying to shift towards the ladder.

Just gripping onto the edge was traumatic to his worn body. He felt a jar from the bottom of his toes up through his teeth, but he willed himself downward. The only consolation to his exhaustion was that he'd finally pulled one over on the elf, there was no way he could have found the book and ruined it.

Smiling at his ingenuity, Anders turned towards the desk and his eyes bulged out of his head. Laying open was the book, black handprints smudging up the desktop from the bastard who wrenched it out of the fireplace. Barely able to keep a great wail pinned to his tongue, Anders impotently glared down at the bright red threat left for him.

LEAVE!

He stumbled into the chair, fingers gripping onto his hair. Slowly, he flipped through his manifesto to find the same curse sketched onto every single page. All his work for naught. The hours. The days. The soul sucking exhaustion. For nothing. Because that damnable elf snuck in here and destroyed it. He wanted to cry, to scream and hurl things, but Anders wasn't going to be cowed by some childish scribbles.

No. He was too proud to give in. He would fight no matter what.

But... He leaned forward a bit, a hand trying to keep his exhausted head up. Sleep daunted him, his eyelids shuttering with every breath. Returning to the bed would be too much work. It was best if he just took a nap here, his head cushioned by his life's work. At least he wouldn't wind up in so much pain from that lousy mattress.

As Anders closed his eyes and nestled in for a nap, a thought flitted through his mind. Where was he getting the red ink from?

Bang.

His eyes flew open.

Bang. Bang.

Nothing but the unending darkness of the void surrounded him, Anders' breath catching as he faced a return of the same nightmare. Return to slumber. This doesn't concern you.

He was tempted by the voice whispering in his mind, but he shook his head and the pain sundered his assertions. This was no dream. Burning the last bit of energy in his body, Anders raised his head and reached for the flint. His fingers, numb from sleep, stumbled against the striker and nearly sent the candle tumbling off the desk.

No. He would not be taken in by shadows and his imagination. Willing strength into his soul, Anders struck the flint and brought a sliver of yellow into the black world. The dancing flame drew his weary eyes right to it, almost soothing like a mother's lullaby. The voice that called to you from outside your crib before you could see, assuring you that you were safe forever.

A warm breeze wafted against the back of his neck. He reached behind to wipe it away, when he caught black. Black stains upon his palms. The same ones from the fireplace, where he hid his book. Where someone else had to have touched the same charred log. Gotten the exact same marks on their hands.

His entire body locked in tight, every hair lifting as it sensed he wasn't alone. Slowly, Anders twisted his chin, his eyes darkening from the loving embrace of the fire to the endless pitch of the void.

Rows of jagged teeth embedded into receded black gums gnashed the air. Skin pale as death itself wafted like crispy parchment upon muscleless bones as the emaciated creature lifted a hand and grinned. "Hello."

Anders spun a hand out, trying to will a spell to his hand, but his body was untethered to his mind. No spell would come. No attack would drive his fists. Only the spine shattering horror of the creature before him could command his mind now. He stared, incapable of doing anything else, while his lips continued to mouth one word, "Darkspawn."

A hand lashed onto his head, yanking it far to the side. Incapable of moving, he watched as the creature's endless row of fangs drilled into the exposed flesh. Warm, sticky blood welled up out of the gash, which the darkspawn greedily sucked into its bottomless gorge. Time slipped away as Anders watched the creature feed upon himself. He could do nothing, could not move, could not blink, only hung upon this eternal torture while his life essence filled the gullet of an unholy monster.

When he finished, the darkspawn tossed Anders' head aside, a black tongue lashing a foot out of the mouth to lap up all of the spilled blood. It left a slick stain of putrid saliva upon Anders' bare flesh and coat. After licking his fingers, the creature smiled, "Til Tomorrow."

Horrified, Anders watched it haul up the basement doors and slink back inside. Why couldn't he move? He had to get out of here! To run, to flee! Anders tried to will his muscles, but his legs were limp, his arms dangling useless at his side. Even in the back of his brain he could feel the darkness encroaching upon him. Soon it would return, yanking him back into the void where this nightmare would purge his memory, wipe the horrors away as if it never happened.

There was only one hope. Fingers fumbling, he yanked up the raven's feather, but his body was too weak. He couldn't sit up to reach the ink well. Dipping the point into the last of his blood, Anders began to write upon the only parchment near him.

L-E-A-V...

[playeklkedoh-blog]

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Brocha is really an skilled buyer, particularly on difficult to get products. She actually is a Mother of 5, and possesses 2 grandkids! She really loves outdoor activities. Horseback Riding and Landscaping are just some of the hobbies she takes pleasure in expressing with her friends and family.

Peppa Pig English Episodes toy Basic safety For Small Children

Children enjoy playing with peppa pig full episodes toy, and parents' appreciate that their youngsters are being entertained. When you're standing in the middle of the peppa pig toys toy with a retail store, it is usually overwhelming to discover the very best peppa pig completo toy for your personal child. Would it be safe, what's this Peppa Pig Portugues toys constructed from, can there be head in the fresh paint, will my kid such as this peppa pig toy? Most significantly, when you are selecting a peppa pig compilation toys to your child, be sure that it can be safe. Here are some ideas on peppa pig play doh kids toys basic safety that can help you make your decision when selecting children's pig toys.

The main basic safety hint is checking to determine if the play doh kids toys toys is era proper. Most Peppa Pig em Portugues 2017 toys or activities experience an grow older degree a place for the pack. Purchasing a Peppa pig em Portugues Brasil toys made for a three year-old might be hazardous should you be enabling a little infant fiddle with it. Age concentrations on play doh learn colors toy and games are defined by the Peppa Pig em Portugues toys Industry Relationship plus the Usa Purchaser Product or service Basic safety Commission payment. The age degrees consider the capability of your child's age to handle a particular style of peppa pig toys.

Upon having discovered peppa pig full episodes toys that happen to be age proper, seek out sharpened sides or other unsafe elements on the play-doh toy. Are available compact parts that could quickly crack or be removed from the peppa pig completo toys that the baby could take? Would be the play doh toy busted and may it scratch my kid? Peppa pig em Portugues Brasil toys can be harmed over the delivery approach, and really should be came back because they are harmful to perform with. Also, if your little one breaks a Peppa Pig em Portugues toys it is very best to never let them keep it or repair it on your own. Children frequently position peppa pig kids toy in their mouths and stick could be damaging or toxic.

Not too long ago, the doh toys sector has already established to recall peppa pig toy characters from outlets. There has been guide in the paint and a few play doh peppa pig toys are already malfunctioned. Check with play doh toys toy merchants to determine if there is a selection of recalled peppa pig dublado toys or exploration on the web. Once you have the list of recalled peppa pig kids toy, proceed through your child's peppa pig portugues brasil toy and make certain you don't possess any of those peppa pig kids toy. If you, send them back for the make.

Should you be buying Peppa Pig em portugues brasil toys for the next young child for any birthday celebration or holiday break, it never hurts to question their moms and dads the things they feel will be the right Peppa pig em Portugues Brasil toys. Some parents can have their own guidelines for age group level appropriateness of the peppa pig compilation toy. Also, some mother and father could have a individual preference on the sorts of peppa pig toys their child performs with. Some mom and dad might only allow academic Peppa Pig Brasil toys into their property, while another father or mother only enables peppa pig toys built in the Usa inside their house. A parent knows their child greatest.

Once you have crafted a finalized option for the peppa pig completo toys you allow your kids to experience with, it is advisable to instruct the kids peppa pig dublado toy basic safety. In the event you got your young ones a football, teach them not to jog within the block to chase soon after golf ball specifically when they are youthful. Also train your sons or daughters the visible difference in between outdoor and indoor peppa pig compilation toys. Soaring a plane in your home could split one thing breakable.

Jim Ford will be the President of KinderMark, kids owned or operated and controlled small business which offers patiently waiting bedroom Peppa Pig Brasil toys and waiting around place furnishings used in doctor's locations, nursing homes, vehicle sellers, dental practitioners locations and libraries. Preschool play-doh toys for instance a task dining room table and learning play doh peppa pig toys are favorites for pediatric locations. For additional information,

Retaining Your Kids Secure on Electric battery Driven Young children Autos

As mom and dad, you want to offer your kids' satisfaction via power supply driven kids' autos. Your kids' pleased encounters since they maneuvered their play doh kids toys toy during the garden make for delighted home video tutorials and happy recollections. Aside from, these play doh peppa pig kids toy are a very good technique of teaching your youngsters value of posting with siblings, fundamental safe practices guidelines on the road, and palm-foot sychronisation.

As mothers and fathers, however, you also have to think about the vital need to ensure your children's protection although biking their battery pack fueled kids' cars. All things considered, satisfaction need to be tempered by protection constantly, particularly in relation to your precious infants!

Age group-Suitable

The age tags in the majority of kids' doh toys exist for the really legitimate protection objective. For example, you need to evaluate the choking and strangulation dangers involved for tiny pieces, loose strings/wires and completely removable units. For yet another, you possess to take into account the extra weight limits permitted for the kids' play doh kids toys toy.

Both these apply to power supply powered kids' automobiles. In the event the features inside the users' guide book establish for 2-five-years older only and simply two riders at one time, then you have to adhere to them. Or else, you may danger incidents introduced by damaged areas, stressed steel and typical dysfunction.

Ideal Types of surface

Most play doh kids toys toy also contain extremely precise instructions concerning the correct types of surface essential to manage safe practices. All over again, you might have to actually stick to instructions for the letter. Understand that kids' Peppa Pig em Portugues 2017 toys are not produced to mirror the exact abilities in their mature designs - play-doh toys for any significant young boys, if you have to - only their outward performances.

Thus, you have to keep your children's battery pack driven kids' cars and trucks from the roads! Despite having its vivid fresh paint and stickers, these can not be very easily seen by owners with their adult-size cars and trucks, not to mention that these play doh peppa pig toy do not possess the correct basic safety products in real vehicles like safety bags and brakes.

Addititionally there is the factor these kids' vehicles will not be created for irregular areas. The tires and the body are certainly not created to hard it, which is certainly unlike an authentic three-wheel push vehicle. Once again, usually do not be deceived by outward looks!

Older Administration

Obviously, you cannot overlook adult administration throughout your children's ride on their own battery pack fueled kids' automobiles. It may smack of overprotective instincts kicking into place and smothering your youngsters during this process but bear in mind that with regards to your valuable babies, much better safe than sorry.

You may need not always be on the lookout about them 24/7 along with monitoring video cameras, on top of that. As a substitute, you are able to look after a safe and spacious play place within the house and the lawn you could monitor. You must get rid of hazards like razor-sharp things and slick surface resources.

You will need to remember that with any battery power- powered kids' peppa pig full episodes toys that your chosen youngsters must never cost and change the batteries their selves. Otherwise, you chance electrocution and ingestion of unsafe materials. All over again, mature direction is vital to kids' safe practices.

Certainly, in terms of your children's battery pack driven kids' vehicles, you should keep the appropriate stability in between allowing them to learn interesting things independently and keeping them protected on their own path of breakthrough. And this is what liable mother and father ought to do, a minimum of right up until your children are of your authorized age group.

For further resilient youngsters play doh toys designed for the utmost safety with appropriate use, today! Search through their selections of little ones rocking horse, little ones pedal cars and battery pack powered children autos.