#she goes on a rampage and gets exploded. the town thinks its all finally over

[slashernipples]

In me heart, Killer Frequency has like, 8 movies, 2 failed reboots, and a tv miniseries.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 6: Dicklips has a Point

Chapter 5: Mother

After a few days in Hoshido, Corrin is finally getting used to the massive emotional baggage that is her backstory. Mikoto invites Corrin to sit on the Hoshidan throne, which is infused with the magic of the First Dragons and destroys magic that alters the body or mind. Mikoto hopes that it will allow Corrin to regain her memories. Before Corrin can sit on the throne and become king of the Westeros or whatever, Mikoto’s strategist Yukimura enters. He looks like a nerd, but I suppose that’s better than being a steampunk MCR cover band dropout like Iago.

The Hoshidan siblings enter and Mikoto tells Corrin that they’re having a ceremony to quash spy rumors and formally reintroduce Corrin into the family. We’re properly introduced to Corrin’s other brother, Takumi. He’s assigned to show Corrin around town and is grumpy about it, because his defining character trait is being a dick. As Takumi and the princesses leave, Ryoma muses that he feels uneasy and predicts that something bad will happen soon.

The gang tours a Hoshidan marketplace. It’s so vibrant, and colorful, and full of life. I haven’t been talking much about this game’s music because I’m not a music guy, but I love the upbeat theme they use for this scene. It feels like something out of Okami and matches Hoshido’s idealized feudal Japan aesthetic perfectly.

Corrin points out that Shirasagi is way better than the Nohrian fort she was held prisoner in for years. Takumi rants that he doesn’t trust Corrin, saying Just don’t get too comfortable…SISTER. I know he’s supposed to come across as a dick, but he has a point. Corrin’s an enemy soldier who invaded Hoshido and killed a dozen people less than a week ago. It doesn’t matter that they share DNA, Corrin should be treated with suspicion.

Takumi also acts suspicious to Azura and says she can’t call him by his first name, which is dumb. What’s she supposed to do, call him Dicklips? Corrin points out that Dicklips is being an idiot and Dicklips tells her to shut up. And really, he is being an idiot. Either hate Corrin for growing up in Nohr, or hate Azura for having Nohrian DNA. Either nature matters, or nurture matters. You can’t have it both ways.

Then again, Azura and Corrin will totally join Nohr and try to destroy Hoshido if we chose the conquest path, so maybe Dicklips has a point.

Corrin tells Sakura that she’s friends with a girl around Sakura’s age, presumably Elise. If the coin flip had gone the other way and I was playing as boy Corrin, Sakura would have asked if Elise is Corrin’s girlfriend. And that’s ridiculous. Can you imagine, Corrin dating their teenage sister? That’s messed up. Good thing that isn’t a thing that happens in this game.

We go to the plaza for the festival. Side note, all shots of Corrin and Mikoto in the festival are positioned so that Corrin’s face is covered by something, like a man wearing an oversized hat, for instance. This is because Corrin is customizable and that means the game can’t show their face. They can show the clearly male body model, but not their face. Awakening had Robin wear a hood to get around this problem, but who needs fashion choices when you can just censor the main character’s face like it’s Austin Powers’s mojo.

While Corrin’s standing next to Mikoto, a weird ghost man wearing a hood walks to the front of the crowd and holds out his arm. Red smoke starts coming off Ganglari and an eye opens up on its hilt, because it is very clearly a cursed sword. Ganglari flies over to the man and he stabs it into the ground, creating a massive purple explosion ball. The sword explodes and Mikoto jumps in front of Corrin to shield her from the shrapnel. As she dies, Mikoto asks Corrin if she’s okay.

Fire Emblem has a lot of dead parent scenes, and I honestly think this is the best. Marcella Lentz-Pope’s scream when Mikoto dies is phenomenal. Mikoto begging Corrin to be alright and dying with a smile on her face is beautiful.

Ryoma cuts down the hooded man but his cloak just falls to the ground, leaving no body. Corrin screams, her hair glowing and her eyes white, physically holding back the pain as waves of energy burst from her body. In a moment, Corrin is gone. In her place is a dragon.

I really like Corrin’s dragon form. It looks so inhuman, more like a machine than a traditional dragon. It really gets across that Corrin has completely lost any semblance of humanity she had as she falls into this pit of despair.

The level proper starts up as an army of dark mages and mercenaries storm into the ruined plaza. Their leader is the ghostly man from before. Interestingly, he’s a swordmaster, a Hoshidan exclusive class that he shares with Ryoma. This level adds Sakura and Azura to our team and gives Corrin an absolutely monstrous boost to her stats, fitting for her rage dragon form.

Sakura

Corrin’s shy, gentle Hoshidan younger sister. She’s a Shrine Maiden (Cleric) and wields healing staves. Her personal skill lowers the damage taken by nearby allies. Her design is fine; I don’t really have any thoughts on it. She seems to be going for this “cute shy healer” personality, which isn’t bad, but Fire Emblem has done it a dozen times before.

Azura

Azura is our Dancer...I mean, Songstress. She sucks at fighting, but allows other units to attack twice, which is really helpful in battle. Her personal skill heals nearby allies at the start of their turns. Her design, despite its bright colors, does a good job conveying how calm and mysterious she is. Azura is an enigma. She clearly knows more than she lets on, but currently seems content to just follow Corrin around.

All of the mercenaries in this chapter wield special, dragon killing swords, which would be a problem, if Corrin didn’t have as much defense as the rest of the party put together. This chapter boils down to letting dragon Corrin smash everyone while Sakura, Azura, and Kaze provide support. Ryoma attempts to take on the ghost man, but is defeated. Then Corrin fucking stomps his translucent ass and saves the day.

Corrin continues rampaging and Azura begins singing LITAA. Her necklace, the one from the title screen, starts glowing. Ryoma runs in to protect Azura, but Azura blasts him away with a pillar of water, which is a thing that she can do apparently.

Dragon Corrin freaks out at the music and slashes Azura across the chest. Azura keeps singing and Corrin attempts to strangle her to death. Azura tells Corrin, Kill me if you want, but do it as yourself, which is a fantastic line that shakes Corrin out of her madness.

Corrin turns back into a human and has a flashback of Garon’s murdering Sumeragi and kidnapping her. Garon says You are my child now and grabs baby Corrin, which is so creepy its comical.

Corrin apologizes to Azura, saying she’s disgusted with herself. Ryoma explains that both royal families have dragon blood, the Nohrians from the Dusk Dragon and the Hoshidans from the Dawn Dragon. Corrin looks out over the destroyed town, a town full of innocent people destroyed by Nohr.

Ryoma points out that, because Garon gave Corrin an evil bomb sword, everything must have been his plan. Cool plan, by the way. Let’s see if I have it straight:

1: Give Corrin a bomb sword.

2: Have her commit an act of war.

3: Have Hans try to murder Corrin.

4: Hope he fails.

5: Hope the Hoshidans bring Corrin to their Queen, instead of imprisoning her for being an enemy soldier.

6: Have ghost soldiers invade Hoshido and take the sword from Corrin.

6: Cursed sword explodes, killing Mikoto and destroying her mind control barrier.

I mean, sure, there are probably simpler ways to kill Mikoto, ways that don’t involve praying that Hans fucks up and fails to kill Corrin. Garon could have, I don’t know, had the ghost soldiers kill Mikoto. Maybe their existence is tied to Ganglari, but that’s never actually stated, and the fact that they stick around and kill people after Ganglari explodes makes that questionable.

You know how, at the end of Naruto, Kishimoto had the villains reveal that they were behind every bad thing that happened in the series, and how it didn’t make sense and was dumb and convoluted? I’m getting Naruto vibes from this chapter.

Takumi blames Corrin for Mikoto’s death. And I mean, he has a point. Corrin’s the one who brought the clearly cursed sword her war criminal father gave her with her. Azura tells Takumi that it’s fine if he doesn’t trust her, but it's wrong for him to distrust Corrin, because Corrin is his blood. And that’s fucking stupid. Fire Emblem is filled with characters with evil relatives. Soren, Guinivere, Edelgard, Robin, the list goes on. Shit, there are evil blood relatives within this game.

Corrin suggests leaving and Yukimura tells her that Mikoto wouldn’t have wanted that and that Mikoyo knew she would die soon. He also mentions that there may be darker forces than Garon at work. Yukimura also points us towards a statue destroyed in the blast, a statue containing Yato, a diving golden sword that is said to be the key to peace. Yato flies up and over to Corrin.

Kaze runs in and reports a massive Nohrian force assembles at the border and the family marches off to war, with Ryoma declaring that he will not show any mercy. Corrin decides to follow Ryoma, in hopes of stopping the war. Azura tells Corrin to calm down, because getting into a fight could cause her to lose control and turn into a dragon again. Spoiler alert, this is literally the only chapter where Corrin loses control, because screw interesting characterization.

Azura gives Corrin her necklace, which turns out to be a dragonstone. Dragonstones and manaketes, people who can turn into dragons, are not new to Fire Emblem. Manaketes are normally uncomfortably young girls. Corrin is the first and currently the only manakete main lord. What’s more, Corrin is unique in their ability to wield both swords and dragonstones. It fits with the duality motif.

The necklace allows Corrin to control her dragon form, which is a bit of a disappointment. Corrin losing control and destroying stuff in this animalistic rage was really interesting characterization that is never seen after this chapter.

Azura decides to follow Corrin, because Corrin makes her feel safe. Apparently.

This chapter was really, really, good. Mikoto’s death was heartbreaking and Corrin going apeshit was some really strong character work. I forgot how absolutely terrifying Corrin’s transformation scene is. That said, this chapter hammers the final nail in the coffin for this story being morally grey. There is absolutely no reason to side with Nohr after this chapter, except for loyalty to the Nohrian royals.

At the start of the next chapter, we’ll choose our side in this war. And, not to tip my hand, but I don’t exactly think it’ll be a hard choice.

[karmaholmes221]

Vicomte de Phantom II

Pier 69

Paris, 1895- A mysterious fire consumed the Opera Populaire. A mob rampaged through the theatre's twisted catacombs baying for the masked man they held responsible. Only his mask was ever found...

I flicked a strand of wet hair out of my face and began messing with the sleeves of my dress. It was busy down at the piers for this time during the day as relatives stood and waited for the disembarking passengers to make their way through the custom house. I stumbled slightly as I was jarred by a young man, who rushed past me to join a rather large crowd just outside the gates. Unable to extinguish my curiosity, I moved closer to see what all the commotion was about, slipping into the crowd of reporters, photographers, well-wishers, and gawkers without notice.  The man, who was clearly a latecomer, turned to the man beside him.

“Has the Persephone docked yet?” he panted.

The man nodded. ”Yeah, the passengers are going through customs now.”

”Here they come!” A young woman whispered loudly to the two men as the first of the passengers made their way through the gate.

”It’s Mrs Astor!” one of the reporters called as a portly lady wearing an enormous plumed hat stepped through the gates, being escorted by a dapper gentleman.

”Hey, Mrs Astor! Over here!” the photographer called. Mrs Astor turned and several flashbulbs went off.

”How was your trip?” one reporter asked.

”Is that the latest Paris style?” another called.

Mrs. Astor  just smiled and blew them a kiss before turning away and allowing herself to be escorted to her waiting carriage.

”Look, there’s Colonel Vanderbilt!” A young man near the front of the crowd called.

”Hey, Colonel, enjoyed those French pastries, did you?” the reporter asked.

Vanderbilt smiled broadly. “There’s nothing there we don’t have bigger and better over here, I assure you.”

”Thanks Colonel!” the photographer said loudly, trying to be heard over the chattering crowd. The Colonel smiled indulgently, patting his ample waistline lightly as the photographers flashbulbs went off before moving off to hail a carriage.

”Hey, there she is!” Someone yelled and all heads turn to the gates, I glanced over, only slightly curious as to the reason to who this mystery person was that they were all standing here waiting for and felt my breath catch in my throat at what I saw.

There, framed in the gateway, clutching the hand of a young boy, stood Christine Daae’. She was nearly obscured by veils and a cloche hat but she was gorgeous, iconic, every inch a star. There was a moment of awed silence as I tried to reign in my pounding heart and push the dread that was seeping through me away. ‘Why, after all these years, why did she have to show her face here, in this town? If Erik finds out she’s here…’  I refused to complete the thought, I didn’t want to think about how far Erik would go to regain his hold on the former prima donna. I pushed the thoughts away as the crowd burst into pandemonium  as flashbulbs exploded and the reporters and photographers began shouting, all vying for Christine’s attention.

Christine remained silent, pulling the boy at her side closer to her and wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders as a familiar voice rose above the shouts of the crowd. “Her name is Madame de Chagny! Stand aside! Stand aside, please!” As Raoul appeared through the gate,  I couldn’t stop myself I gasped. The woman just ahead of me glanced back but I could hardly find it in me to care. It was Raoul, older and slightly more weathered looking than I remembered, but still the same man that I had been married to all those years ago, still dapper and handsome and, in this moment, brusque irate. “No pictures, do you hear? No pictures of my wife, no pictures of the boy!”

”Hey Christine, why Coney Island?” one reporter called.

”Your first concert in years, why ain’t you singing at the Met?”  A reporter in front of me, a young man with ink stains on his shirt, called out and Raoul looked towards him, a dignified look on his face.

“The Vicomtesse has been engaged by the well-known impresario –”

”Well-known?!”

No one’s ever seen the guy” the same reporter cut him off,  before launching another into another question. ”How’d he lure the great Christine Daaé over here, anyways?”

”It’s the money, right? All that American moolah!” The photographer said mockingly.

”Hey Christine, whatcha gonna sing, “Yankee Doodle Moolah”?”A man in the crowd called and the people around him sniggered.

Raoul turned towards where the man’s voice had come from. “My wife is an artist, sir - - !” Raoul began heatedly.

”Yeah, and her art is paying off your gambling debts, is what they’re saying in France.” The photographer scoffed. I was hit with a moment of surprise at the news, I had heard of there financial burden because of some poor investments but I hadn’t realized how badly off they must be if Christine was coming out of retirement to pay their debts off.

”Is it true you left your entire fortune on a roulette table in Monte Carlo?” the reporter asked and Raoul’s eyes blazed angrily. “Why, you insolent jackal! How dare you -” Raoul said taking several steps toward the reporter.

“Father-” The boy began in a quiet voice that was unlike either of his parents.

“Not now, Gustave!” Raoul snapped as reporters turned their questions on the boy.

”Hey kid, how does it feel to have a famous mother?”

”This is your first time in America?”

”What do you plan to do here at Coney?”

The child glanced around shyly, clearly not sure how to handle the attention. ”I… want to learn how to swim.” He said quietly. There were hoots and laughs from the crowd and I couldn’t help but feel a small amount of sympathy for the boy shrinking back against his mother.

”I said, leave the child alone!” Raoul snapped,  glancing around anxiously. “For God’s sake, didn’t this Mr Y send someone to receive us?”

I felt another stab of shock at the sound of Erik’s new name here. It was the name he had been using in the public eye at least, to me he was still Erik. The shock gave way to anger as I realized that he had been in contact with Christine and Raoul, however vaguely, while I had been forced to sever all ties with everyone in Paris because of his actions. I was brought out of my thoughts as the boy suddenly became very animated, he stepped forward and pointed at something across courtyard. “Mother, look..?Right over there… Across the square.. What is it?”

Everyone turned and I wasn’t surprised to see the sight of Erik’s carriage, fancifully designed with horses that were entirely mechanical and a driver whose face was completely obscured. The crowd around me began to buzz as words of astonishment, wonder, and even fear  were thrown back and forth. “What on earth could it be?”

“I’ve never seen such a thing before in my life!”

“Damn strange, that’s what it is!”

“The most peculiar conveyance!”

Suddenly the door of the carriage opened and three familiar figures extricated themselves from the vehicle. I ground my teeth as the three figures bowed in unison to the crowd before turning to approach Christine and her family with their usual bizarre yet beautiful motions. “Are you ready to begin? Are you ready to get on? You’re about to start out on the journey of your lives.” Squelch said before reaching behind the child’s ear and pulling out a colored handkerchief.

” Is this some kind of joke?” Raoul demanded, his voice filled to the brim with bewildered outrage.

One of the onlookers closest to Raoul scoffed. “No, it’s a publicity stunt for that freak show on Coney!”

”It’s a front page feature, is what it is! You getting this, Smitty?” One of the reporters asked his photographer as he rushed to write in a small, leather book and I couldn’t help but smile at the idea of such good publicity for free.

There was yet another flash from the photographer’s camera.“You betcha!” he replied, taking yet another picture.

Gangle stepped forward. “If you’re ready, then get in. Once you’re in, then we’ll get gone. And who knows, once it goes, Where you’ll be when it arrives?” Gangle spoke and, in one fluid motion, he had removed Raoul’s top hat and suddenly made it vanish into thin air.

“This is outrageous!” Raoul snapped as the crowd began to murmur again, this time in approval.

“It’s amazing!”

”Brilliant!”

”I’m telling ya, that Mr Y is an absolute genius!”

Gangle and Squelch quickly moved to flank the family and walked them towards the carriage as the bird-like Fleck beckoned them forward. “It’s a fun house where the mirrors all reflect what’s real.” Fleck said mysteriously.

“And reality’s as twisted as the mirrors reveal.” Fleck and Gangle whispered.

Squelch added his voice to the mix. “And the fun is finding out what the mirrors show…” By now the whole group had reached the carriage and Christine was helped into it as Raoul continued to protest.

“This is unacceptable, do you hear me? I will be taking this up with your employer! Whoever he is!” Raoul snapped as he was finally coaxed into the carriage, leaving only the boy, Gustave,  outside it.

Gustave gazed at the carriage and then at the crowd, his face and voice excited as he spoke.”Everything and everyone, it’s all just how I dreamed…All the freaks, and all the fun, exactly how I dreamed…And Phantasma still awaits…Wonder what’s behind its gates…” The boy climbed into the carriage and it silently rolled off as the onlookers watched, speechless. As the carriage disappeared from view I quickly turned on my heel and began to push my way through the crowd, catching snatches of conversation. ”That was something’, wasn’t it?” A boy who couldn’t be older than sixteen told the woman who was hanging on his arm.

”I was hoping she’d sing. Caruso sang half of Pagliacco for us when he got off the boat.” A woman complained to her friend.

“I bet she ain’t got it no more, not like the old days. Sure, she’s pitch perfect… But empty inside, like the flame went out or something’.” One of the reporters said simply, digging in his coat for a match.

I slipped passed a woman who looked to be my age as she suddenly began pointing to the arrival gates, calling out to the crowd. ”Look! It’s the Rockefellers!”

I finally made it through the last few people and slipped down the busy street, a plan forming in my head. I veered off the main street and into a dismal back alley. I would take a  shortcut back to Coney Island and Phantasma, and I would find out exactly what was going on.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Getaway Car

A/N: Again, based off the Taylor Swift song of the same name, which also happens to be my favorite off of Reputation (sensing a pattern here?). I also was heavily inspired by the movie Smokey and the Bandit, which is one of the best comedies of all time change my mind. 

Everything had been going so well until he almost hit the bride.

The transaction had been clean, quiet, just like Anderson had promised. Mike disposed of the guards while Tristan loaded the cars, and soon enough they were off in different directions, gone long before the sirens and the red tape.

All Tristan had left to do was deliver Anderson’s cut, which was to be dropped off at a park two hours away. Dump the car for the new one, and that was it—he was free to go and live his life, a million dollars richer.

Yes, everything was going perfectly. Then the bride dashed out in front of his hood, the white mass seeming to materialize out of the manicured shrubbery on the side of the road.

“What?!”

He hit the breaks and cranked the wheel, tires screeching to the smell of burnt rubber as the car careened to a stop inches in front of the hem of her stained skirt. The woman regarded his bumper with an airy sort of indifference before marching around to the passenger’s side and yanking the door open.

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled at her as she flung the two bags she was holding into the back. 

“I need a ride,” she said. She crawled into the seat, cursing as the tulle of her veil caught the door. “Damn this dress.” There was the sound of fabric ripping, and she flung half of the offending lace to the side of the road. The door closed with a slam.

“Does this thing move?” she asked.

Tristan just stared at her.

“Well, come on, dude! I don’t have all day!” She began fumbling with what remained of her veil, yanking out bobby pins and dropping them on the carpeted floor. “Can we go?”

“Go where?” was all he could think to ask.

She laughed. “East? West? North? South? I don’t give a shit, long’s it’s not here.” Her hair tumbled down from its loosened bun and curled around her ears.

Tristan thought of the two million in the trunk. “This isn’t Uber,” he said.

“No shit. If it were Uber, we’d be gone by now.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Look, I’ll pay you for gas or whatever. Please, can we just go? Harry’ll be showing up any minute, and I don’t want to be here when he does.”

Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Alright.” And they were off again.

The bride didn’t say anything for a while. Tristan kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to stare without staring. She was futzing around with her dress, wriggling about on the seat as fabric rustled. He didn’t understand what she was trying to accomplish until he heard a zipper unzipping.

“What are you doing?” he cried out, whipping his gaze to the road as his cheeks burned.

“Exactly what it looks like.” She pulled the balloon of a gown over her head and pushed it out the window. “Don’t look.” The seat buzzed as she lowered its back and climbed over it to rummage through her bags. “Don’t worry,” she called out. “I’ll be decent in a sec.”

“Great,” he mumbled.

            The runaway bride let out a sigh. “Oh, it feels good to look like a normal person again. That damn dress was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever put on in my life. I looked like a fucking pastry.” She climbed back into the front seat, and Tristan was beyond relieved to see that she was now clad in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. His guest fumbled with the seatbelt for a moment, never breaking off the conversation.

“It was Harry’s mother who insisted on that one. ‘Oh, it balances out your figure so well, you just have to take it!’ And I was like ‘I’ll buy anything if it means I don’t have to deal with your bullshit for any longer’ so we picked it out and here we are.” The seatbelt clicked, and she relaxed against the cushion. “I’m Eris, by the way. I’d shake your hand, but you know, you’re driving.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stuttered. Should he give her his real name? Anderson said to keep a low profile, but this was kind of out of the ordinary. But what if she wasn’t who she said she was?

The woman was staring at him with raised eyebrows, her gaze overflowing with silent judgment.

Say something, you idiot!

“Tristan,” he finally spat out. “My name is Tristan.”

Eris smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, Tristan.” She leaned forward. “I did mean what I said, about paying you for this. I know it’s all kind of crazy, me just straight up hijacking your trip, but thanks for helping me out.”

“Uh… no problem.” No, big problem, but he didn’t know how to say that without screwing things up more. “I-uh- I take it that we have an angry groom behind us somewhere?”

She laughed humorlessly. “Oh yeah. Harry’ll be pissed. Though not as pissed as his mother, I’m sure. That lady’s a crazy old bat. She goes on a rampage when they give her the wrong dressing at restaurants; I can’t imagine what she’s doing now.”

“What happened?” he asked.

 Eris sighed, twitching uncomfortably. “Nothing really happened,” she said. “It was all going fine, I just… I didn’t want to marry him. I ought to have broken up with him a while ago, because we just weren’t working out, but then he had this surprise proposal at my birthday party and… well I couldn’t say no, could I? All of his friends and family were there! How cruel would that be?”

Tristan frowned. “Less cruel than leaving him at the altar?”

“Probably…” She sighed once more, slumping back in her seat. “But it’s too late now. What can you do?” In a moment, she had perked up again. “So what about you? What’s your story?”

Momentary panic rang through his ears. “I’m running an errand for a friend.”

“Wow,” Eris leaned forward, resting her head on her fist and her elbow on the armrest. “That is fascinatingly vague. What type of errand?”

“Nothing interesting.”

“Doesn’t look that way.”

“Well, it is that way.”

“Did you steal something?”

Tristan’s heart was pounding harder than during the robbery. “No.”

“Did you kill somebody?”

“What?” He whipped around to look at her. She returned his gaze with complete seriousness. “Of course not!”

“Then what’s the errand?”

“I’m just delivering something for him.” There. That would be the end of it, right?

“Oooh… Drugs?”

“No!”

Eris exploded into giggles, stretching back towards the window. “I’m just teasing you. No offense, but you don’t seem that interesting.”

“Oh, yeah…” Relief swept through his chest. “None taken.”

“You look so nervous,” she laughed. “Am I really that frightening?”

“No, no, of course not,” Tristan stuttered. “You’re not—I’m not nervous.”

Eris laughed even harder. “You remind me of one of my exes,” she said. “He was so uncomfortable around women—”

“I’m not uncomfortable around women!”

“—that whenever I was anywhere near him, he could barely get a coherent sentence out.” Eris smiled. “Yeah, he was a cutie. Real gentlemanly, too. He would like, pick up my napkin when it fell or some shit like that. I bet you’ll do that too when you get a girlfriend.”

Tristan bristled. “What makes you think I don’t have a girlfriend?”

She shrugged, placing her feet on the dashboard. “I can tell.”

“There’s no way you can tell!”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I—” Quite suddenly, he felt like a buffoon. “No.”

Eris smirked. “Then I can tell.”

“I—whatever.” Tristan turned his focus back to the road in a poor attempt to save face. He shouldn’t be focusing on her. She was a distraction, and the sooner he was rid of her, the better. Anderson wouldn’t be happy if he showed up to the drop-off with some babbling ex-bride in tow.

A sign up ahead warned him that they were approaching a town, finally leaving the fields and forests behind them. There was still about an hour left to the park, but the rest went through towns and small cities. Tristan’s pulse spiked in his neck. Towns meant more people, and more people meant more police. Anderson had assured him that if he obeyed traffic laws, the police had no reason to pull him over—after all, they wouldn’t have any idea who the thieves were or what cars they were driving—but still, his grip on the wheel tightened.

Eris seemed oblivious to his increased discomfort. In contrast, she appeared more relaxed than she had the whole trip, mindlessly picking at the skin by her thumbnail as she watched streetlights go by.

“So where exactly are you dropping off this errand for your friend?” she asked.

“Uh… Dowridge,” he replied distractedly, scanning the increasingly busy road. Now they were behind a rickety old pickup truck puttering along well under the speed limit. Hurry up, asshole.

“Oh, Dowridge! That’s perfect! My cousin owns a restaurant there. You can drop me off there. It shouldn’t be out of your way.”

“Great.” There was a police car behind him. His heart was pounding. It’s okay, it’s okay, they don’t have their lights on, it’s okay…

“It’s kind of funny how she ended up with the restaurant,” Eris was saying. “You see, she had been working as a waitress to try and get through college, and the guy who owned it—”

A siren pierced through the air.

“Oh no.” Their lights were on now. They must know. Something must have gone wrong, and they found out. With a shaking hand, Tristan reached for the turn signal.

“No!” Eris grabbed his wrist. Her face had gone white as snow. “Don’t pull over,” she hissed. “Whatever you do, don’t fucking pull over.”

“What?” He barely heard himself over the wailing of the siren. “You don’t understand, they’re after me—”

“They’re after me,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, someone must’ve seen me get into your car—”

“Why would they care about a runaway bride?” snapped Tristan. “It’s the money, they know about the money—” He made to pull to the side of the road. What should he do? Play dumb? But they’re here, they must know… He looked at Eris, who was hunched over in the passenger seat, white knuckled. He shouldn’t have picked her up. They’d arrest her as an accomplice. He’d tell them that she had nothing to do with it—

The police car whizzed past them, siren and all. Tristan and Eris watched as it pulled behind the pickup truck. For several moments, the two sat in stunned silence.

Eris burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” she chortled. “Holy fucking shit! I’ve never been so fucking scared in my whole life!” With a hoot, she slapped his shoulder as she dissolved into a pit of unintelligible giggles.

The rush of adrenaline was still thudding through Tristan’s eardrums, so much so that all he could muster was a shaky grin, which seemed to set Eris off even more.

“You—” she wheezed. “You look like you just shat your pants!” And she howled even louder.

It was a good minute before she got ahold of herself, and once she did, she snapped back into her inquisitive mode so quickly that Tristan jumped.

“What money?” she demanded.

“W-what?” he asked nervously.

“What money?” she repeated, emphasizing each word with a thrust of her shoulders. “You thought the police car was coming for you because of ‘the money.’ What money? I assume this has something to do with your top-secret errand for a friend?”

“I—” Oh no. He was screwed. He was so screwed. “What about you?” he countered. “You were positive that they were after you. Why? Surely Harry wouldn’t call the police just because you dumped him?”

“Oh, he would,” she said. “But not because I dumped him. You see”—she reached into the backseat to grab one of the bags she had been carrying— “before I ran for it, while I was still in the throes of my mental breakdown, I kinda-sorta-maybe went through his mother’s jewelry box.”

“Wait—what?” Tristan stared as Eris pulled out diamond pendants and strings of pearls, a never-ending train of precious gemstones on silver chains. “Are those all—”

“Real? Yep. And worth millions, too.” She shoved the tangle mass back into her bag. “That old hag was always bragging about her diamonds and her emeralds and her pearls and goodness knows what else. Rich bitch. She made my life hell when I was living with Harry—he couldn’t make a damn decision without her approval. She even insisted that the wedding take place in her fancy mansion. So, when I left, I wanted to stick it to her.” Eris looked up at him expectantly. “Alright. I’ve confessed. It’s your turn.”

“I—” He shouldn’t. He should deny everything, say it’s all a misunderstanding. Tell anyone, and he could spend the rest of his life in a cell. Anderson had been very clear about that. And yet, she was looking up at him so earnestly, so eagerly, her eyes so wide… They were greenest eyes he’d ever seen. The color of seaweed floating on waves, piercing through his soul. She wouldn’t turn him in. Somehow, he was sure of it.

“A friend of mine and I robbed an armored truck earlier today, on my boss’s orders.” He whispered the confession, almost afraid that someone else would overhear. “We’re splitting the money three ways. My friend took his million and drove the other direction. I took the other two. They’re in the trunk.” Eris’s green eyes flitted towards the back of the car. “I’m dropping one million off with my boss, then I’m taking my cut and going off.”

“Going off where?” she whispered.

“I…I don’t know. I haven’t planned that far ahead,” Tristan’s cheeks burned. Saying it out loud made him feel even stupider than when he thought it. He had never been much of a planner. That was Anderson’s job. Tristan had always operated on a more “figure-it-out-as-I-go” mindset, but that became increasingly more difficult when the thing he had to figure out was how to take care of millions of stolen dollars.

Eris stared at him, cocking her head to the side as she did. A smile broke across her face. “Tristan,” she said. “It seems that I was wrong about you. You are far more interesting than you at first appear.”

He smiled shyly.

“So,” she continued. “I assume we’re still going to Dowridge? Because we might want to get a move on.”

“Oh, yeah—I mean yes, let’s go.” He pulled the car out of park and continued back down the road. If it were possible, Eris was even more talkative now than she had been when she first jumped into his vehicle. She wanted to know every little detail about the “Grand Theft Armored” as she called it. What did the truck look like? How many guards were there? How long did it take to plan? Was it an inside job—did one of his accomplices work for the truck company? How did they know how much would be in there? How did they get the truck to stop? Was there a fight?

“Honestly, I wasn’t that involved with the whole thing,” he told her. “Originally it was just Mike and Anderson. I only got brought in when they realized that they needed a third person.”

“Why’d they decide on you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re putting major faith in a person once you offer them a role. They must’ve put a lot of thought into picking you.”

Tristan had wondered about that as well. Why, out of all the people they knew, did Mike and Anderson decide to let him in on their game plan?

 “Well, I follow instructions well,” he said. “I keep confidential matters confidential. And I could use the money.”

Eris scoffed. “It’s a million fucking dollars! We could all use it.” She leaned towards him. “You know why I think they chose you?”

Tristan laughed nervously. “Why?”

“Because you don’t ask questions. If they tell you to do something, you’ll do it without arguing about it or trying to change things up. They can rely on you to just eat up their orders and shit out profits.” Tristan opened his mouth to argue, but Eris shushed him and continued. “I mean, think about it! How long did it take you to ask what the hell I was doing after I jumped into your car?”

“I—” Tristan didn’t know what to say. He prickled, under attack but unsure of how to defend himself.

“By the time you finally asked for an explanation, I had already changed into a new outfit and chucked the old one out the window,” she laughed. “That’s why Anderson had you take the extra million, and not Mike—he doesn’t trust Mike to bring him his money. But he knows that you’ll do it, without question.”

“You’re making me sound like a puppet.” His voice came out far poutier than Tristan intended, and internally he cringed.

“You are a puppet,” she replied, stroking his shoulder. “A very rich puppet.”

Tristan tried to focus on the road, but his mind kept taking him back to Anderson. Was it true? Was he really nothing but a mindless puppet? He remembered when Anderson had first called him up with the proposition. Eris was right—he hadn’t questioned anything. He had been nervous, of course, regarding the police and the guards and the sheer pressure of carrying two million dollars, but Anderson had assured him that it was all planned out and that he had nothing to worry about, and Tristan hadn’t questioned it. At the time, he couldn’t get over how lucky he was to be given this opportunity. Now, his pathetic nature made him want to retch.

Eris’s hand moved down from his shoulder to stroke his forearm. “I’ve made you angry,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. We can talk about something else.”

“No.” Tristan surprised himself with how firm he sounded. “No, you’re right. I’ve let Anderson walk over me for far too long. I can’t keep being his puppet.”

Eris looked up at him, a mischievous grin in her seaweed eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“I—I don’t know.” The firmness had now completely drained from his voice. What a shock. “What do you think I should do?”

“Well,” she said, leaning up against his shoulder. “For starters, I wouldn’t bring him a million dollars.”

Tristan gawked at her. “Oh, no! I can’t do that!” he cried out. “That’s his—he planned this whole thing out. I wouldn’t even have the money if it weren’t for him!”

“So what if he planned the whole thing out? He was too lazy to show up to the actually robbery.” She lifted herself up so that her breath tickled his ear. “Think about it—if he was actually invested in this plan, he wouldn’t have needed to hire you.”

“But… It’s not right! It’s his!”

“And he’s welcome to get it. If he wants it, he can come to you. He shouldn’t expect you to scamper across the country like a glorified delivery boy just because he had one decent idea.” Eris returned to his shoulder. “You want him to stop using you like a puppet? You have to show him that you’re not a puppet.” With a contented sigh, she lapsed into silence.

Tristan hesitated. “So… should I not drive to Dowridge?”

“No, no!” she smiled. “Drive to Dowridge. There’s a nifty little motel right across from the restaurant my cousin owns. You can stay there for the night. Then, if Anderson wants to get in contact, you can make him come to you.”

“Okay… but what if Anderson doesn’t get in contact?”

“Then he obviously doesn’t give a shit,” she yawned. “Or maybe he’s too proud to grovel at your feet. Shouldn’t matter to you. You’re a million dollars richer.”

“Alright.” He straightened his back, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “I’ll do it.”

“Great!” Eris squeezed his shoulder. “We can have dinner at my cousin’s restaurant. The food’s shit, but she lets me eat for free!”

The restaurant she had him park across the street from a little while later turned out to be more of a café sort of place, a little hole in the wall eatery in a little hole in the wall town. Eris ordered their food, then ushered Tristan into a booth in the corner of the room.

“So.” She sat down with a deliberate thump.

Tristan gave an uneasy smile. “So what?”

“So, I told you all about my crazy love life. Now I want to hear all about yours.” Eris grinned.

He shrugged. “There’s not much to hear. You already know I don’t have a girlfriend.”

 “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“Not really…” he trailed off. “There was this one girl in high school, but that didn’t go anywhere.”

“So you haven’t gone around any of the bases? No kissing, no touching, nada?”

Tristan blushed. “Well, not exactly…”

“Oooh.” She leaned forward across the table. “Do tell!”

“Like I said, there was this one girl in high school.” Ugh. His face burnt with the memory. “She kissed me once, at a dance, and I didn’t know what to do.”

Eris laughed. “What do you mean you didn’t know what to do? Kiss her back!”

“Well, yeah.” Why was he telling her this? It was so pathetic. “I got that part, but I meant after.”

“After?”

“Yeah. After she kissed me, she looked up at me like she was expecting me to do something, but I didn’t know what, so I just stared at her for a long time. Finally I left because I had to use the restroom.”

“Tristan!” Eris sounded exasperated.

“I’m sorry!” He held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do!”

She sighed, then leaned closer to him, resting her hands on the table so that she was sprawled across it. Her face was inches from his, her green eyes sparkling like the ocean.

“Let me show you,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his.

At first Tristan stiffened, alarm bells ringing through his skull. But as she pressed in closer, gently caressing his thigh with her fingertips, he relaxed into the kiss. Without thinking, his hand came up to cradle her head through her hair, and she leaned into his palm.

Finally, he pulled away, reluctantly desperate for air. She looked at him expectantly.

“What do I do?” he whispered.

“Kiss me again,” she replied. “Kiss me again and again and again.”

And so he did.

He didn’t remember asking her to spend the night with him, but he must’ve, because an hour later they were in the motel room, kissing and caressing and she was running her fingers through his hair and his phone was ringing but he didn’t care because it didn’t matter…

“Do you want me to show you?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “Please.”

That night, he fell into a sound sleep, unaware of the creaking of the ancient mattress, his only thoughts to the woman tangled up with him.

He was happy.

He was really, really happy.

 The pounding of the door awoke him in the morning.

“Police! Open up!”

“What…?” His head was cloudy. He reached for Eris, but she wasn’t there.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His skull rattled with each punch to the door.

“Police! Open up!”

They had found him. Somehow, they had found him. Tristan fumbled about for his clothes. Where was Eris? Had they gotten her too?

The door burst open and several costumed officers flooded in, hands on their firearms. Tristan’s arms flew up to the ceiling.

“I’m unarmed! I’m unarmed!” he yelled.

Everything happened so fast. Somebody began patting him down, another person was reading his rights, another was rummaging through the meager furniture in the room, and then he was on the floor, barely hearing the click when the handcuffs closed around his wrists.

“Where’s the money?” somebody was asking him. “Where did you hide it?”

“Just tell us,” another voice joined in. “It will make everything easier on yourself.”

“The money?” Tristan mumbled. “We left the money on the table…”

Someone let loose an exasperated sigh. “Come on. You’re caught. We know you did it. Where’d you put the money?”

“On the table! On the table!” Tristan cried. “It was in a duffle bag on the table. Eris told me to—”

Eris.

“How’d you find me?” he whispered.

“Anonymous call from a woman early this morning,” came the first voice. “Now why don’t you make things easier for yourself and tell us where the two million dollars are.”

            “She took it!” he yelled, wriggling uselessly. “She took the money and called! She took it! She took it!”

Stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

“Sir, I need you to calm down,” someone was saying. “You can tell us the name of your accomplice. Please sir, just calm down…”

Eris watched as they took him out of the motel. It was fairly early in the morning, but still, a small crowd had gathered about the blinking police cars to see what all the fuss was about. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see when they brought him out—maybe he would be struggling, cursing her name, screaming that it wasn’t his fault—but perhaps she should’ve known what she would see. Tristan walked out completely subdued, not making a sound, only making the bare minimum effort when it came to walking down the stairs. When they put him into the car, he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. It was depressing.

She sighed and ordered another coffee.

            It wasn’t her fault. He should’ve known better than to trust her. Someone involved in such a well-planned robbery should at least have some level of common sense. It was his own idiocy that got him arrested, nothing more. Had she not come along, there would’ve been someone else, someone smarter, someone crueler, who would take it all away from him. It was only a matter of time.

            She should be happy. In less than a day, she had managed to bamboozle two unsuspecting men out of their fortunes. Yesterday, she had been a nothing, completely dependent upon her future husband for any sort of respect. Today, she was independent and rich.

            Yet conning Tristan had none of the satisfaction that had come with conning Harry. Harry was an asshole born and raised, who could get anything and everything he wanted and knew it. Bringing him pain had been sweet.

            Tristan, on the other hand, was kind. Honest. Genuine. He didn’t deserve to be hunched in the backseat of a police car, speeding off towards a jail cell. It wasn’t fair. And yet, neither was life. Every woman for herself, and all that.

            The waitress brought her a new mug, and she drained it within a minute.

            “Later, coz!” she yelled at the kitchen.

            Her cousin popped her chubby head out the door. “Leaving already Er? Where are you going now?”

            Eris shrugged. “Who knows? Wherever the road takes me, I guess.” She chuckled. “Maybe I can pick up another rich husband along the way.”

            Her cousin grinned. “Good luck!”

            Eris tipped her head and strolled out the door.

[thunder0-0sage]

Summerbolt (manga script) - chapter 16.5

CHAPTER 16.5: VEGA’S PROBLEMS

 We see Vega on the cover, playing a videogame, giving it his all and shooting dull green energy streams all around him, gritting his teeth in a wild comical way, veins protruding on his forehead.

‘Vega: ‘-Actually, I have lots of problems! One of my other obsessions besides alcohol is playing videogames!!’

Poor Vega. Is there any hope for him at all?!’

  ‘Sunbird’’s boys’ dorms are seen, the focus going in one of its halls where Hikaru’s walking by in the early morning, his hands in his pockets, looking around.

Hikaru: ‘-Weird. It’s a lot quieter here than it usually is.’

‘What’s the reason behind this calmness and silence?! Hikaru sets out to find the answer!!!’

The teenager hears a strange noise nearby, going to the room from which it’s coming, knocking on the door and then entering. Inside he finds a horrible mess, amidst which is laying none other than Vega, breathing heavily and holding an empty bottle in his hand while a lot more bottles and casks are rolling around, all of them empty as well, leading to the appearance of a comically disgusted expression on Hikaru’s face.

Hikaru: ‘-What the hell is going on here?!!’ (Vega barely manages to raise his head, extremely shocked when he sees his classmate but still unable to get up, falling back on the ground)

Vega: ‘-I need to drink … I really need to … fuckin’ drink, damn it!!!’ (Hikaru leans to his friend and grabs the bottle in his hand when energy sparks explode from the drunken bastard’s eyes and his grip around the glass tightens)

Hikaru: ‘-Man, the bottle is empty. Come on, just give it to me.’ (Vega continues with his attempts to take the bottle for himself)

Vega: ‘-Like hell!!! It’s mine!!!’ (Hikaru continues with the attempts to pull the bottle from his friend’s hands who keeps on pulling it to himself and eventually the mad genius goes on a rampage with a comical angry expression)

Hikaru: ‘-JUST GIVE ME THE DAMN BOTTLE ALREADY, SICK DRUNKEN FREAKAZOID ANIMAL!!!!’ (lightning bolts are shot across the room, the drunken bastard is fried and the bottle is blown to pieces)

Vega is crushed aside as Hikaru lifts him up, dragging him out in the hall, the energetic hero starting to regain his common sense.

Vega: ‘-Suru … is that you … ?’ (Hikaru turns to him with a slightly angry face)

Hikaru: ‘-Who else, V?’ (he takes him to his room, opening the door and throwing him on Seiren’s bed, sitting on his own and looking worriedly at his friend)

Vega: ‘-Ah, shit … (he touches his forehead with a painful expression) … my head’s about to explode any second now.’

Hikaru: ‘-Do tell me now. Why were you in such a state? Where’s King? Why was the room filled with ‘Jack Willshire’?’ (Vega looks aside with a thoughtful expression and then goggles his eyes in shock)

Vega: ‘-Ah! I remembered!! (he manages to sit on the bed as well, sighing) It all started yesterday, after school. (Vega is seen, leaving ‘Sunbird’ when suddenly Aria jumps in front of him with a cute smile, shocking him and making him blush) Aria surprised me. She asked me out. It just came flying out of nowhere!!!’

Hikaru: ‘-Did you accept?’

Vega: ‘-Damn right I did!! I dressed up as neatly as possible and waited for her in the place about which we had spoken earlier. (Vega is seen, getting his hair into a proper shape, then dressing like a real gentleman and finally standing next to a street light with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand) I waited for her for a long time but she never came. (Vega walks around the town afterwards, looking very down) I saw a restaurant on my way home and decided to go inside and eat up. (Vega’s extremely shocked expression is seen then, looking at Aria, sitting on one of the tables nearby with another boy, talking about something and laughing) There I discovered Aria. With another guy that looked a little bit older than us.’ (Hikaru’s brutally shocked, hearing this)

Hikaru: ‘-Damn, son!! I wouldn’t imagine she would do such s thing!!’

Vega: ‘-I was sober then, Suru. There’s no way I’ve mistaken her for someone else. She had lied to me on purpose, just to make fun of me because she knows other girls never invite me out.’ (Hikaru looks aside with a sad face)

Hikaru: ‘-I’m sorry, man. It’s a really shitty situation.’

Vega: ‘-I suppose you can figure out what happened from there on. (Hikaru nods and then Vega is seen in a pub, drinking in higher quantities than ever) I drank a lot and I mean really a lot. Then I went back to the dorms and caused a lot of ruckus there. (Vega enters the dorms, carrying tens of casks and bottles, wrapped around him with energetic chains, and starts shouting and shooting energy shots all over the place) King and Tora came to stop me. (the two battle rams land in front of the drunken bastard and a fight starts between them, leading to lots of destruction, Vega later being thrown in his room along with all the alcohol) When they saw they weren’t going to get the alcohol away from me, they gave up and left me alone.’

Hikaru: ‘-And this morning I came and found you in this horrid state. (Vega nods when Hikaru goggles his eyes and jumps up, picking the energetic hero and dragging him outside of his room, confusing him) Suru, what are you doing now? I need to rest!!’

Hikaru: ‘-We’re going to go and talk to Aria about this right now!!’ (the duo continues walking forward and then Aria is seen in her room, reading a book in bed and alone, the door destroyed and Hikaru jumping in with a most comical angry expression, scaring his schoolmate to death in a comical way)

Aria: ‘-AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! Suru!!!! What do you think you’re doing here?!!!!?! (she then sees Vega who’s dragged along with a sad face, shocking her) Vega? You, too?’

Hikaru: ‘-Get your ass over here right now, young lady!! We’re going to sort things out without further delaying!!!’

Later Vega is sitting next to Aria on her bed while Hikaru’s sitting on the floor, the two of them looking down with sadness while the mad genius has folded his arms with considerable anger.

Vega: ‘-Suru, that was a little …’ (Hikaru looks at him destructively, silencing him)

Hikaru: ‘-Go on then, Aria. Explain everything to us. I’m going to be by Vega’s side as you tell us the whole truth!!’

Aria: ‘-Suru, you’ve got everything wrong. So does Vega. (Hikaru and Vega are equally confused and shocked, hearing this) The truth is … I really like you, V. (Vega is still shocked but now blushes as well while Hikaru’s face is more comical than ever) That’s why I asked you out. A few unexpected things happened, though.

 (she looks aside and her memories are seen, where the young lady’s taking a shower when an explosion erupts in her house and all of the sudden the water stops, confusing her) My brother has an explosive deva and he blew up a part of the house while trying to cook dinner. Thanks to that both the power and the water were cut for a long time. (Aria shouts at her brother with a comically angry and ashamed expression as he bows with a comically guilty face) When my parents came back it became even worse and the two of us had to fix it since they don’t have any devas. (Aria and her brother are seen, working on the repairs of the house and afterwards the duo is walking across Deckstoru, stopping by a restaurant) To make up for what had happened, my brother suggested to take me to dinner and he’s the boy with which you’ve seen me in the restaurant. I was so ashamed of myself for what had happened and felt very guilty so I didn’t even notice you were nearby. I decided not to cause you any more trouble from there on. I’m very sorry. I really am.’ (Vega puts his hand on her shoulder and shocks her, the two of them looking at each other)

Vega: ‘-It’s OK, Aria. There’s no need to feel bad about it because it wasn’t your fault, after all. And also you can cause trouble for me all you want because … I like you a lot, too.’ (Aria is mega-shocked, nodding with a shy smile and blushing after that as Hikaru jumps up and starts waving with his hands and an ultra-comical happy face)

Hikaru: ‘-Great then!!! So it was all just a …’ (Aria and Vega both smack him in the face with comical angry expressions, crushing him in the wall)

Vega, Aria: ‘-Would you shut up already!!?!!?!?!!!?!!!!’ (Hikaru falls on the ground with two huge lumps on his head and a comical beaten-up and puzzled expression)

Hikaru: ‘- … huge misunderstanding …’

He falls unconscious and then Aria and Vega look at each other, smiling and moving closer, the action stopping just when they’re about to kiss and transporting us back to Vega’s room, Hikaru standing at the door with great shock. In front of him lies a sea of bottles and casks, amidst which Vega is rolling around, hugging a cask and kissing it with a comical happy expression.

Vega: ‘-Aria, oh, you’re just so cute … definitely the best girl ever …’ (Hikaru steps in and smashes a historical electric kick in the drunken bastard’s jaw with a comical angry expression)

Hikaru: ‘-YOU REALLY DO HAVE SERIOUS PROBLEMS WITH DRINKING, DUMB MOTHERFUCKER!!!!’

‘Whether it’s real or not, the most important thing is for us to be happy but we should never go too far!! Sometimes things can spin out of control in the most unexpected ways!!’

 THE END