#they have their number 1 driver and Carlos will never be treated with the same respect

[midesastremanifiesto]

Why do I feel everything surrounding Carlos is blown out of proportion?? people change jobs, sponsors leave, drivers say things, give interviews, make mistakes on track, crash, change friends and leave their girlfriends and it's normal, or it seems to be normal with everyone except with Carlos. Maybe it happens with other drivers and idk because I don't follow them closely, but with Carlos it seems all it has to have a secret motive, or he has an evil plan. Sometimes things are easier than we think.

[bohnsky]

This race you guys😭😭😭

How am I supposed to sleep tonight? I’m just so fucking happy for Lando 😭😭😭

Damn this time it was way harder to decide but here are my favorite drivers two months (holy shit, it’s been two months already?) into liking f1:

1. Alex Albon

Albono is and will (hopefully) always be my number one (not counting Seb of course lol). And he did so well this weekend! The practices were perfect and today gaining P8 back was so great!! I admit, it again was hard for me to focus on him because of what was going on at the front, but it wasn’t as hard as it was last week lol

2. Charles Leclerc

Again, nothing changed here but I’m not going to complain about that, but the race was not optimal for Ferrari. It was hard for me to cheer for them because I didn’t want them to overtake Alex lol but I’m really sad about how it turned out for them anyway.

3. Sergio Perez

This one was the hardest decision I have ever made. I wanted to put Lewis on third again, but I think I just realized that I’ve been obsessing over Checo for so long now. Honestly, I have so much to say about him, have had for weeks and I feel like it’s about time that I give him the credit he deserves.

And the race today.. Guys, my heart... Quali yesterday made me so sad and I didn’t even understand that he was out after Q1 at first and why, but then I thought about his performance last week and let myself hope. Today wasn’t as good as last week but he still killed it! I did not cheer for him as he overtook Alex and Charles obviously and I hesitated to cheer when he overtook Carlos but I can’t help to be happy for him xD

Also I somehow started shipping Chestappen. Max not being mad at Checo after last week's inchident in turn 1 right at the start launched something in me and idk, I’m kinda digging it tho lol

Honerable mentions:

Lewis. Obviously, I wanted him on third but my soft spot for Checo took over, but you cannot believe how happy I am for Lewis. As you probably all know by now, I always like to see people on the podium for their home race. This week it was not even possible for all Brits to be on the podium as there are four, but I am so happy that two of them made it 😀

Lando. Obvoiusly! After that quali and race! I couldn’t be happier for Lando. And let me tell you now that he was the third competitor for third in my ranking. I’ve been watching so much Lando content lately and I just love this guy. He is the most relatable driver on the grid and he cares so much about his fans. He’s just the best.

Carlos. Well with Lando content comes Carlando content and I love it. Also I have been developing a little soft spot for Carlos as well. I’ve liked him before but it’s stronger now 😊

Might also have to do with how Ferrari treats him lately. He deserves better and the race today must have been awful for him. This triple overtake with Checo, Alex and Charles must’ve been horrible, and I just hope he doesn’t feel too bad after this disaster of a race.

Max. Well, Chestappen.. But I gotta say, Chestappen is more of a fun thing because cute and all, but I’m still a Lestappen shipper and if I had to choose, I’d have to choose Lestappen because they make more sense. And the way he keeps saying ‘inchident’ 😭😭😭

But same tbh, I can’t even say or read ‘incident’ the right way anymore, I always say ‘inchident’.

Also, I feel like being friends with Max must be really frustrating. Like you want to be mad because he always wins everything, and you don't stand a chance, but you can't be mad because he praises you all the time and says that he had so much fun fighting you. That would drive me crazy.

Also, Max' hugs look so comfortable. I want one. And I want to touch his hair.

Daniel Ricciardo. I don’t know why I never mention him. He’s always been one of my favorites and I just feel like that’s a given and I don’t have to say it because it’s so obvious even if it isn't. Kind of like how it is with Seb.

Logan. This is more about how I noticed him more this week. He did a pretty good job this weekend and I couldn’t help but start to become a little Williams fan. The team seems to be heading in the right direction and I love that for them. Mostly for Alex but also for the rest of the team 😊

Oscar. Same with him. He did so fucking well and I love that for him.

Lance. I’ve become a fan. He is such a sweetheart and I want to give him the world.

Pierre. I feel so bad for him today. He must feel awful, and I just want to hug him 🙁

I sadly didn't have much time to check out post race stuff, because I have an exam tomorrow :(

Anyway I think that’s it for now. Thanks for reading :)

[girlpornparadise]

Atop the Office

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo/f!Reader (Narcos)

Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: It gets smutty. Of course it gets smutty. It’s why you’re here. It’s why I’m here. It’s my raison d’etre. But it got softer. I can’t stop this man from being soft. 

Personal ramble: I didn’t intend to write a second chapter. I don’t intend to write a third. But this man got under my skin so who knows what will happen. 

You can read Part 1: At Your Doorstep. It’ll make a lot more sense that way.

You awaken later than intended to find yourself alone. You reach across the bed, but there's no warm body to touch or even residual warmth to feel. He's long gone.

You look around the room and there's no trace that he'd been there. Maybe it was just a dream. 

You look at the clock and realize you're running late for work, and in a panic start to get ready.

When you go to brush your teeth, you see the 2 towels strewn across the floor. You pick them up and they're both still damp. It reminds you it had been real, which somehow feels worse. You had opened yourself to him, wide and raw and vulnerable and he had abandoned you without a second thought.

You rush through your morning routine and leave for work.

You arrive a little late, but no one seems to notice. You decide you'll stay a bit late to make up the work. You find the notes from yesterday and begin to compile your report.

Halfway down the page you find it and it hits you like a bus. "Colonel Carrillo…" His name doesn't elicit the usual reaction of lip tapping smiles. This time it cuts like a knife. What felt like your deepest, most intimate encounter was merely a one night stand.

After you devour lunch, having skipped breakfast entirely, you return to your desk. The deflation you felt has made you exhausted, but the report can't wait. You write accurately and factually, but your hero feels like a villain to you now, and it takes the 3 dimensionality out of the work.

While you're typing away, you hear them coming. The commanding footsteps. You know the sound of those boots. Involuntarily your fingers feel the memory of unlacing them the night before. Your mind flashes to those soft eyes watching you do it and you feel sick.

Instead of your usual beaming, you are flushing with embarrassment. You're humiliated and you duck your head down pretending to concentrate on your work. Out of the corner of your eye, the green uniform passes and you picture it on your floor. No. You push away the memory with force. 

After half an hour of sighing into your papers and choking down the lump in your throat that precedes tears, you hear the footsteps again. They are approaching from the direction you are facing this time and you duck your head again, unable to face him. 

The footsteps pause at your desk and you feel him hovering over you. You try to steel yourself before looking up, but you can't conceal the pain and anger in your expression.

He stands tall and stone-faced, but something flickers in his eyes as he registers your expression.

He leans down slightly and drops a manilla folder in front of you. 

"Your boss wants this dealt with asap." He states and walks away.

You're confused. Why on earth would he be delivering a report to your desk. He doesn't even work here.

Looking around to see if anyone noticed this anomaly, you open the folder carefully, like it contains something confidential, suspecting it's for your eyes only.

In it you don't find a report, but instead there's a single piece of paper with neat handwriting in black ink.

"I'm sorry." Your heart sinks. You knew he thought you were a mistake. That this perfect man used you and regrets it. But you push on.

"I couldn't bring myself to wake a sleeping ángel." You gasp slightly and your heart jumps into your throat. 

"Let me make it up to you. Dinner tomorrow. Meet me at the same restaurant at 7pm.

Horacio" 

You silently whisper his name to yourself and the deep seeded intimacy of speaking it the night before floods you with longing.

You look behind you, but he once again is long gone.

You fold the paper and put it in your purse to protect it from prying eyes. But you also know you're saving it for later, so you can run your eyes over the words and linger on the word "ángel" like an enamoured school girl who had been passed a note in study hall.

***

The next day arrives and you show up to work glowing. You can't sit still all day and by the time the clock strikes 5 you're practically vibrating with anticipation.

You go home and change this time into a sundress that flatters your figure without giving too much away.

You make your way to the restaurant a bit earlier than you normally would. This man works on military time, you remind yourself, and punctuality isn't your strong suit.

You sit down and shortly after order yourself a drink. You should treat yourself. Feeling special will give you confidence, and after your first lukewarm date, you feel like you'll need it.

The drink disappears and the bowl of peanuts slowly empties.

8 o'clock rolls around and you realize you've been stood up. As you reach into your purse to get your wallet, your hand brushes by the folded paper with his name neatly scrawled across the bottom.

No.

No, you were not going to accept this. 

You go to the counter and order 2 meals and have them packed up to go.

You hail a cab. "Carlos Holguin School." The driver considers it an odd request at this hour, but takes you there all the same.

It's quiet as you walk to the gate. You pull out your embassy badge and flash it at the surprised guard. He notices you are carrying a large brown paper bag, but your tone is sharp when you tell him the files you're delivering are urgent. Unable to find a reason to deny someone so harmless looking entry, he lets you pass.

You approach the office and take a deep breath before you enter, unsure of what's on the other side. Unsure if your intrusion will be welcome.

You enter the dimly lit room to see Colonel Carrillo leaning over his desk, leaning on his elbow with his forehead pressing on his hand.

He stands abruptly, startled by your presence.

The office is otherwise empty and all of a sudden you feel very aware of how inappropriate it was for you to come here at this hour, or at all really.

"How did you get in here?" He asks with a tone you assume he uses for interrogation.

"The, uh, guard let me in." You stammer. "I told him I was delivering files from the embassy." 

You've misread the situation. This was a mistake.

He sighs. His posture and expression soften simultaneously as he realizes he put you on the spot.

"I'll have to have a talk with him." He says exasperated and a bit amused. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day." 

"Too long for a dinner date apparently." You say coldly.

His expression hardens, but is quickly replaced by regret.

"I owe you an apology, an important lead crossed my desk and I couldn't get away. I didn't even realize it was so late until you came in."

You arched your eyebrow at him.

"And I owe you another apology. I'm sorry I left your home so abruptly. I got a call that required my urgent attention and I had to practically run out of your apartment."

"You could have left a note." You were clearly angry and hurt.

"I didn't have time. I…" he trailed off. "There's no excuse."

"You could have called." You should have called your mind corrected you.

He smiles slightly. "I don't have your number."

Your eyes go wide at your own stupidity. You never gave it to him. His smile widens a little at the look on your face.

You glance around the office at the scads of surveillance equipment.

"You can track the phone calls of criminals on an international scale but you can't get a hold of my phone number?" You counter with a tinge of frustration overshadowed by your amusement.

He chuckles. "Fair point."

"So what's in the bag?" He asks, changing the subject. 

"As I told your guard, important files from the embassy." You smirk.

He lets out a laugh. You've never heard him laugh before and it makes your heart smile.

"Your files smell a lot like empanadas."

"I figured you hadn't had a chance to eat." You scan across his desk to the bottle next to the smoke curling from an ashtray. "And you can't subsist on alcohol and cigarettes alone."

"It does smell good." He concedes.

"You need to take better care of yourself." Your tone is more serious and laced with concern than you meant it to be.

"Then I'm lucky I have a guardian ángel looking out for me." 

When he hits the world "ángel" you smile. The wide, beaming, embarrassing smile you give him when he passes your desk.

He smiles back at you, realizing he's been forgiven.

You walk over to his desk and he grabs a chair from another part of the room. You sit down next to him and tuck into your meals.

You say very little to each other, but it's far better than the awkward first date the other night.

He's relaxed around you.

You finish the meal and clean up. He leans back in his chair a little and looking regretfully at you says "I should get back to work." 

Leaning on his desk you lay your hand gently over his. "Must you?" You ask softly.

Your hushed tone reminds him of last night. How tender you were when he needed you most. How you let him fall asleep in your embrace. How you are his ángel.

He stands up and you stand to meet him. He puts his hands on your waist and sits you down on the edge of his desk. His firm but gentle grip positioning you to his liking. He runs his hands up to your back and moves closer.

He kisses you softly, and you lean into his kiss. You spread your legs so he can move closer and you feel the warmth of him against your body.

You place your hands against his chest, feeling the scratchy fabric of his uniform. 

"Oh Horacio." You sigh.

That name is so seldom spoken in this place that it melts the room away. And it is only the two if you, two bodies and two heartbeats.

He runs his hand over your hair from your crown to the nape of your neck.

His lips ghost over yours, playfully teasing and a shudder runs through you. You can feel his breath hot against your face.

Your eyes closed, he presses his lips to yours and you murmur into his mouth. You feel him smile against you as your lips part, allowing his tongue to slip past and gently massage yours.

Your hand finds the nape of his neck and your fingers start swirling circles into the base of his hair.

You go to unbutton his shirt, when his hands move to stop you. The reality around him suddenly crashes against the desire welling inside. 

He looks at you, torn. He can't do this here, in his office, at his desk. But he can't bear to disappoint you again. He considers for a moment.

"I need you." You whisper.

Though he doesn't say it, he needs you just as much.

"Desperately." You whisper, almost a hiss.

The urgency settles in his chest and his resistance fades.

Your eyes pleading for his touch, you caress his face. "Please, let me take care of you, Horacio."

"No ángel, tonight I take care of you." His voice soft but still authoritative.

He unbuttons and removes the top of his uniform to reveal the green shirt underneath. You paw at it, much softer to your touch, tighter so it grants you a better feel of his muscular chest as you run your hands across it. It's slightly damp with his musky sweat.

His fingers run up the inside of your thigh to your panties and he feels you through the thin cotton. You moan.

"You're soaking wet." He muses.

"I've been thinking about you all day." You say breathily.

His eyes darken as he slides his fingers beneath the fabric and between your folds. Your hips roll at his touch.

He slides his fingers into you, pressing your walls with just enough force to make you tremble around him. You let him finger you with strong deliberate strokes and he watches your face as your lips tremble while you breathe heavily.

He cruelly pulls his fingers away. He then wipes them down his top lip, and into his mouth, smelling you, tasting you, imbibing your essence.

"Please Horacio." You whine.

Your desperation settling between your legs, you tighten your thighs to his hips and wrap your legs around him, which hikes up the hem of your dress.

He presses his erection against your practically dripping panties, and you feel the bulge rub against your clit. You moan at the contact.

He's becoming more frenzied now and stands you up by gripping your butt and pulling you forward. He reaches under your dress and hooks the waistband of your underwear. He swiftly jerks them down to the floor, and you step out of them. He pushes you lightly and you perch back stop the desk, legs wide.

He unbuckles his belt and leaves it hanging open at the front. After unbuttoning and unzipping his fly, he pushes his pants down to his knees. And his boxers quickly follow.

His erection is exposed and you lick your lips at its reveal. He grabs it firmly and directs his head through your slick folds, pressing harder at your clit. The pressure makes you moan.

His girth finds your opening and he glides it into you with more force than before. Your hips roll as he fills you fully and you cry out.

"Oh Horacio."

You are addicted to saying his Christian name. So few have the privilege and you let it tumble from your lips again and again. With each exclamation, he thrusts a bit harder, tries to feel you more deeply. 

You grip him tightly, his shirt bunching in your fists, your legs around his barely exposed ass.

As you squeeze your walls tightly around him and your pleasure crests, you throw your head back and let out a strained and broken cry. 

He buries his head in your neck and continues his rhythm. You feel him panting heavily on your collarbone and can hear him losing control.

The rhythm breaks, and with a few quick and uneven thrusts he spills into you, crying out. As he does, you push your hand into his hair and press his head into your neck. 

As he pulls back from and out of you, you shudder and sigh. He grabs a box of tissues from his desk and gently wipes up between your legs, wiping himself clean shortly after. 

You're surprised about how gentle he is, and he seems to read your mind. 

"I told you I'd take care of you." He says, kissing your forehead. 

He retrieves your panties from the floor and as he stands up, sniffs them. You smile at this quirk.

You both straighten your clothes so you're dressed but a bit dishevelled.

He takes your hands in his and looks at them once again like they could absolve him of his sins. He's so gentle despite how much larger his hands are than yours.

He pulls you towards him slightly and his eyes brighten indicating the spark of a new idea.

"Come, I want to show you something."

He disappears into a storage closet momentarily and he comes back holding a dark wool blanket.

He leads you out of the back of the small building and to a ladder on the side that leads to the rooftop. He indicates you should climb up and though you're not the most sure-footed person, you do so, with him following behind in case you slip.

As you reach the roof you look around. You're not very high up, but there's a gentle night breeze that takes your mind  out of the crowded city.

He spreads the scratchy blanket across the roof as if preparing for a picnic. Taking your hand in his, he sits you down on the blanket.

He sits beside you and putting your hand on his cheek, you gaze into his eyes. Soft, brown eyes, framed by perfect lashes and slight creases at the corners when he smiles.

He gazes back and puts his hand atop yours, holding it to his face. You sit like this for some time, hoping to better understand each other through this act of silent communication.

He runs your hand down to his jaw and swipes it across his lips, kissing your palm.

Still holding your hand, he lays you down on the blanket and lays down next to you. The wide open view of the sky lets you see the almost full moon and the few stronger stars that punctuate the city's haze.

You gaze at the sky, while he gazes at you, equally entranced.

"My ángel deserves the heavens." He whispers in your ear and you melt. You certainly did not expect to find a warrior poet beneath his khaki green armour.

You turn on your side and put your hand on his chest, over his heart. He wraps his muscular arm around your shoulder and pulls you tight to him. You close your eyes and breathe him in. You can't help but feel safe next to this man. This leader of armies and hunter of evil. A hard man who has grown soft for you.

You close your eyes.

The next thing you're aware of is the sun peeking over the skyline. Horacio is awake and helps you sit up to admire it.

"Good morning." He says quietly, his lips barely moving.

"It certainly is." You say, resting your head on his shoulder. 

He wraps his arm around you and you bask in each other's steady breathing.  

Suddenly it hits you, you have to get to work.

He goes to drop you at your apartment, but it's too late in the morning, so he lets you out a few blocks from the embassy. He squeezes your hand as you leave the car and you scurry to work.

He drives you off the base. As you pass the guard shack, Horacio - no, Colonel Carrillo, shoots the guard a stern look that says if you ask any questions you'll be doing pushups until you collapse. You're both waved through quickly.

[exactlyinstantcollective]

Biggest Slot Machine Payout

Biggest Slot Machine Payout Ever

Biggest Slot Machine Payout In History

She'd won big money before: hitting a $680,000 jackpot on a Wheel of Fortune slot machine, also at the Palace Station. It marked the first time Megabucks had surpassed $20 million. Well, it appears that the biggest slot machine wins also cannot go without Vegas casinos, so the fact that the largest slot machine payout in history happened in one doesn't surprise us at all. The biggest slot machine win of $39 million (and change) went to a 25-year-old software engineer from Los Angeles who, one day, decided to try his luck.

It only took 20 years, but the Lion’s Share slot machine at MGM Grand finally gave it up. In one of the most followed slots stories of 2014, a New Hampshire couple strolled into the MGM Grand on August 22 and won not only the $2.4 million jackpot, but also the machine itself. The payout finally allowed MGM Grand to decommission the Lion’s Share, which had been there since the casino opened in 1993.

Getting a seven-figure payday is always nice, but it doesn’t come close to being the biggest jackpot in slots history. The really big money comes courtesy of the massive progressive jackpots on the Megabucks machines. This is a network of 60-payline, five-reel slots with around 700 machines at 133 different locations. The odds of hitting the minimum $10-million jackpot in one play are nearly one in 50 million. With that in mind, here are the five biggest Vegas slots paydays on record.

$21.3 Million

Sometimes, all it takes is one spin. On June 1, 1999, a 49-year old self-employed business consultant from Illinois put $10 in the Megabucks machine at Caesars Palace. Moments later, he was over $21 million richer. He also won a $5,000 secondary jackpot. According to a spokesperson for IGT, the company that makes the Megabucks machine, the winner’s first wish was to pay off his credit card debts.

$22.6 Million

The Megabucks kept on flowing on March 27, 2002. Seventy-four-year-old Johanna Huendl of Covina, California put about $170 in the machine at Bally’s on her way to breakfast, and she ended up bringing home the bacon. Huendl, a Vienna native who came to America in 1956, thought at first that she had won a $2-million prize. She was off by one zero.

$27.5 Million

On November 15, 1998, an unnamed 67-year-old retired flight attendant from Vegas was playing the Megabucks machine at Palace Station, and she accidentally put in $300 when she intended to put in $100. She couldn’t have been upset for long because she won the first Megabucks jackpot to top $20-million in history. It wasn’t her first big slots win; she also took down a $680,000 prize playing the Wheel of Fortune machine at the same venue.

$34.9 Million

The previous record was held by Cynthia Jay-Brennan, a 37-year-old cocktail waitress from Las Vegas who played the Megabucks at the Desert Inn on January 26, 2000. Unfortunately, six weeks later, a drunk driver rear-ended Jay-Brennan’s Camaro, leaving her a quadriplegic and her sister dead. The 58-year-old driver was given 28 to 92 years in prison.

$39.7 Million

On March 21, 2003, a 25-year-old software engineer from Los Angeles (who chose to remain anonymous) put $100 in the Megabucks machine at the Excalibur. He ended up winning the biggest jackpot ever, paid out in 25 annual instalments of $1.5 million each.

You may have seen the news story a few years ago about a woman in Queens, New York who almost won the largest slot machine jackpot in history. Unfortunately, the nearly $43 million win was a machine malfunction that went well above the $6,500 max payout.

A new record may not have been set, but there have been a number of huge casino jackpots throughout history. If you’re gearing up for a trip to Vegas or a casino party, check out these stories of life-changing, mind blowing jackpot wins.

Biggest Slot Machine Jackpots

Think you can’t get lucky on a slot machine twice? In 1998 a retired flight attendant proved that lightning can strike twice at the casinos. The unnamed woman first won $680,000 on a Wheel of Fortune slot machine at Palace Station. She decided to keep trying her luck and months later she won $27 million on a Megabucks machine at the same casino!

Elmer Sherwin is undoubtedly a lucky guy. He also hit not one but two of the largest slot machine jackpots in history! The first win of $4.6 million was on a Megabucks slot machine at the Mirage in 1989. Sherwin decided to visit Cannery Casino in North Las Vegas in 2005 to test his luck again. There he won again on a Megabucks slot machine, but this time he walked away with $21.1 million. Mr. Sherwin was in his 90s when he hit his second jackpot.

A few years early a 25-year-old software engineer won the highest slot machine payout in history. In 2003 the young man won $39.7 million playing a Megabucks machine at Excalibur. He decided to take an annual $1.5 million payout for 25 years instead of one lump sum payment. That means he’ll be raking in the dough for another decade.

In 2000 Cynthia Jay scored the largest jackpot at the time. She won nearly $35 million at a Megabucks slot machine in the Monte Carlo Casino in Vegas. But less than two months later Jay was in a horrible car wreck that killed her sister and left Jay paralyzed from the chest down.

In August 2016 a resident of Hawaii came to the mainland for a Vegas vacation and traveled back home with a lot more money. What was really impressive is that the woman was playing penny slot machines at the Wynn casino when she won $10,777,270.51.

While it isn’t the biggest slot machine jackpot win in history, a Florida man identified as only Fred S. did get very lucky in July 2018. He hit not one but two big jackpots at the Hard Rock Biloxi within a matter of minutes. First, Fred got a massive $1,291,918 win with a $20 bet. While he waited on the casino to verify the win he got a $14,000 win on another slot machine to bring the total winnings over $1.3 million.

Biggest Hands at the Poker Table

Hands down, the World Series of Poker (WSOP) is where you’ll find the biggest Texas Hold’em jackpots. Once the field gets narrowed down to just two players, a single hand can bring in millions. After 10 hours of heads up poker playing, John Cynn was named the 2018 WSOP winner and received $8,800,000. His opponent Tony Miles didn’t do so bad himself. Even though he lost, Miles received $5 million for second place.

But that wasn’t the biggest payout in the history of the tournament or even that year. Four other WSOP winners have won more:

Jamie Gold - $12 million in 2006

Martin Jacobson - $10 million in 2014

Peter Eastgate - $9,152,416 in 2008

Jonathan Duhamel - $8,944,138 in 2010

In 2018 Justin Bonomo won $10 million in the World Series of Poker's $1 million buy-in Big One for One Drop. But by far the later poker jackpot ever was $18,346,673 when Antonio Esfandiari won the 2012 Big One for One Drop.

Highest Payouts at the Craps Table

Patricia Demauro is easily one of the most successful craps players in history. In 2009 she famously won 154 consecutive throws while playing at the Borgata in Atlantic City. The actual amount was never disclosed, but based on the minimum buy-in of $10 the payout would likely range from well over six figures up to $1 million or more.

Not long ago a player won over $5.3 million at the Tropicana Casino and Resort, mainly at the craps tables. The unidentified man had a 6-hour hot streak, but he had to bet big to win the millions. At one point he was placing $100,000 bets.

Huge Win at the Roulette Wheel

Biggest Slot Machine Payout Ever

In 2004 Ashley Revell made a huge gamble. He sold everything he owned, headed to Vegas and put his entire life savings on a spin of the roulette wheel. Crazy – yes. But it paid off. Revell put just over $135,000 on a red bet and won over $270,000. The whole thing was filmed and eventually became a short reality show called Double or Nothing.

Biggest Blackjack Winners

The most infamously successful blackjack players were a group of MIT students who used card counting to win around $100 million. However, this situation was unique because the mathematical geniuses worked as a team so their winning streaks wouldn’t get noticed by dealers.

But one man bested the MIT players. Gambler Don Johnson made millions at blackjack tables over a six-month period in 2011. Instead of card counting, Johnson sought out casinos that had the most favorable rules, like being able to split a hand up to four times.

Another thing Johnson looked for were casinos that offered a guaranteed payout, which refunds part of what’s lost on a hand. All that research paid off to the tune of $15 million in half a year of playing.

A billionaire by the name of Kerry Packer also won big at the blackjack tables. During a trip to Vegas in 1997 he reported won somewhere in the range of $20-40 million. The winnings came from a combination of black jack and baccarat.

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Biggest Slot Machine Payout In History

Orignal Source: https://casinoknightsinc.com/casino-101/jackpot-highest-casino-jackpots-history/

[hitchell-mope]

Descendants 1 and 2 but....

Zendaya is mal

They have a cinematic budget

The magic works like that in once upon a time (IE the smoke travel heart ripping and force choking) but there no price

There is magic on the island but the only way out apart from how the rotten four leave is the fairy godmothers wand

It’s also part jukebox musical and they swear (except ben and gil they too nice)

Zendaya!mal doesn’t use a potion on ben instead she uses a truth gummies on herselfand tells him what her mother wants her to do and ben helps them get out from their parents influence

Bens allowed to get a word in edgewise and breaks up with Audrey at the lockers then goes to ask mal out

The xenophobia angle is more prelevant

Carlos and mal call out Leah on her bullshitting saying just cause they were raised by villains doesn’t mean they’re carbon copies of their parents and tell them exactly what cruella did to Carlos (insert horrifying theories here)

In the sequel a subplot is ben trying to get the councils support in bringing more kids to auradon but for six months they’ve been denying him because they don’t believe lightning can strike twice

Carlos listens to mal when Evie doesn’t and tells her to talk to ben and she tells him to try the bandaid solution and tell jay how he feels cause if she has to tell her guy he has to tell his guy

So she goes to try to talk to Ben but the press finds them and they give chase back to where the films started and they keep trying to ward them off but the press don’t take no for an answer and keep asking questions mal doesn’t know the answer to. That’s when it happens

Mal screams in pain her eyes glowing bright green and she rises off the ground until he hands level with bens forehead buildings disintergrate trees and statues get ripped up all the while she’s in the middle of green tornado her hair changing from dark brown to its original dark purple. She’s screaming in pain because she’s never felt this much power before. After all it’s what happens when you try and deny yourself your inborn magic coupled with stress and pent up evil over six months

She is incredibly lucky bens there. Anyone remember the last air bender episode where they’re in the desert and aanf almost eviscerates the sandbenders once he finds out they stole appa? And katara talks him and and calms him? Yeah that’s exactlywhat ben does. He talks her down gently and just holds her as she collapses sobbing in his arms. Then she passes out

She wakes up Velcroed to a hospital bed to the sounds of ben arguing with his father about why magic should be reintroduced to auradon so something like what happened mal doesn’t ever to someone else. Beast says no stating that’s unfair advantage crap he used to justify retiring it in the first place to which ben yells at him to leave noticing mals awake he goes to her and apologises saying he should known she was struggling. She says it’s not his fault she never let on she had a problem in the first place. Then they see the television. 12 dead 4 injured. This causes her to breakdown again. Ben switches off the tv and continues to comfort her

That night bens in the chair next to her bed asleep. Mal removes the restraints and leave the hospital room smoke travels back to her dorm. Then she decides she can’t stay in auradon anymore because she’s now a killer so she goes back to the isle same way she did in the film when she gets to the hideout she collapses on the couch in tears saying “it’s my fault” over and over again

This time she goes to curl up and dye because she’s trying to atone and she feels the only way to do that is check in on dizzy. Then when harry arrives and starts perving on mal she does the logical thing and breaks his arm and leaves him there on the floor apologising to dizzy on her way out

When ben wakes up he has a mini break down cause hey his girlfriend who needs his help up and left in the middle of the night when she needs all the support she can get. So in a fit of panic he makes a bee line for the limo intent on going to the island to apologise and support her cause god Satan and the Olympians all know she needs it.

The Evie finds him on her way to visit mal. He’s in the limos drivers seat trying to get it to work and it isn’t and he’s crying and screaming obscenities at it and just lies his head on the wheel crying his eyes out. She takes him to the boys dorm where he lets her have saying mal tried to tell her and Evie laughed her off cause. Evie says doesn’t ben thinks she knows it’s why they’re going to the island to try and convince mal to come back cause let’s face it she needs help now more then ever

So chillin like a villain and Gil recognises ben like on the film. Then at the hideout he insists mal will get help if she comes back with them. She says can’t because she’s killed people and beast will be waiting with handcuffs the moment she steps out of the limo. Ben doesn’t but that to him she a good person who’s been under a lot stress and hasn’t been able to cut loose. Then sad song/space between happens. Mal decides she might return if ben can promise she’ll get the help she needs and she can’t be relied on as much as she has been because it’s obvious she wasn’t coping. What mal wants mal gets (within reason obviously) so of course he says yes he just wants her to be happy and if bringing magic back to auradon and being more selective in duties is what would make her happy then magics coming back to auradon and she’s getting less work to do. Council be darned (my child doesn’t swear) mal says yes she’ll go back

This time he is euphoric when he leaves to start the limo that’s when he’s jumped he tries to fight them off but gets knocked out.

Mal heard Harry talking to the others so she poofs down there and uses a taser on harry starting below the belt the the stomach aorta throat eye and brain. She then tells him it can be used as a suppository. She asks the others to restrain him while she goes to talk to uma

Mal poofs into the restaurant and riffs on her mother’s speech (well well not quite the glittering assemblage I was expecting no nobility no gentry just the rabble how quaint) uma says there’s no rabble here but mal. Mal retorts with “oh dear what an awkward situation”. Then the arm wrestle happens. Umm wants to know where harry is. Mal says if Uma returns ben unharmed then mal will return harry in one piece. If not well harry will come back in weekly instalments.

To prove she’s not kidding mal conjures up gil and Harry’s aortas and threatens to destroy them if uma doesn’t give ben back. Uma pokes the bear by saying she saw the news. “All the hard work for nothing eh? You had it all and lost it all in a pitifully short time.

This gets to mal and is when control happens. Mal spends the musical number just mentally torturing uma and gil (mostly uma) until her eyes start to glow again and she collapses in pain at umas feet. This is when uma gets the idea to bring the wand and harry in exchange for ben (attack them at their lowest point and all that)m

Mal reluctantly agrees and is about to leave when uma asks what auradon is like. Mal says it’s so much better off with out her (Mal). She then throws gils heart back to uma and leaves

Back at the hideout Harry’s trying to mess with their heads. They’re not being sucked in. He now looks like he’s been dragged face first over a cheese grater. Then Mal comes back she poofs him back to uma leaving the hook which she then burns she also leaves all his valuables.

Mal tells them the plan. Get the wand or ben dies. Evie goes in to panic mode and tries to treat mal with kid gloves. She keeps telling Mal not to panic. And then she tells Mal not to blame herself after all it’s no ones fault

Mal doesn’t blame herself she blamed Evie. Cause if Evie listened instead of laughing her off then maybe just maybe ben wouldn’t be captured. Evie says she did listen. Mal says no Evie laughed her off. CARLOS listened and gave her useful advice but she never got the chance to implement it because of the damn press. Evie tries to counteract with ben would’ve gone with or without them but she’s cut off my Mal throttling her with magic and just before the light dies from her eyes Mal poofs her back to the limo.

She asks the boys how they can get the wand cause she can’t magic up a fake because uma will sense her magic. Carlos suggests the 3D printer and Mal sends them on their way. Before they go carlos years into her. She cannot keep doing this she cannot keep pushing her pushing people away. If she keep doing that she won’t have anybody left. So yeah the boys would go make a fake wand but not for Mal, for ben cause he didn’t ask to be caught up in Mal and Uma’s childish rivalry

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 7 May 2018

Quick Bits:

Accell #10 begins the next arc, largely focusing this issue on Danny trying to get back on his feet, and assess damage and reparations of his personal life. Joe Casey and Damion Scott are still giving us the most traditional superhero book of the line here.

| Published by Lion Forge / Catalyst Prime

Analog #2 is an interesting throwback. I like how Gerry Duggan, in creating this future, has effectively tossed us back to the stylistic action and intrigue of 70s and 80s thrillers.

| Published by Image

Backways #5 is the explosive conclusion to the first arc. The story reveals some of the extremes that Anna can go to with her powers as she attempts to save Sylvia. Eleonora Carlini and Silvia Tidei really shine with the art.

| Published by AfterShock

Despicable Deadpool #300 is a bit of a mess, but I get that was intentional. All of the “Marvel Universe Kills Deadpool” arc has been one failure after another as the assorted heroes and villains of Marvel have been unable to stop Deadpool. The ultimate solution leads to an opportunity for Gerry Duggan to travel through many of the highlights of his run on the series.

| Published by Marvel

Domino #2 continues the fun, action, and weird moments of self-reflection showing the true vulnerabilities and insecurities of tough-as-nails mercenaries of the first issue. Gail Simone is doing a great job at bringing out the depth of Domino’s character and the art from David Baldeón and Jesus Aburtov is gorgeous. I had pretty high hopes for this series, given how entertaining Simone’s previous work on Agent X and Deadpool were, and she’s exceeded expectations. 

| Published by Marvel

Exiles #3 is still following the whirlwind pace set by the first two issues as the team continues racing through the multiverse, gathering new and old allies, as they try to come up with a plan to stop the Time Eater. This, of course, allows Javier Rodríguez to really step up with his designs and layouts for the weird and crazy worlds the team is travelling to.

| Published by Marvel

The Highest House #4 is consistently some of the best art and storytelling in comics right now, with beautiful artwork from Peter Gross and Fabien Alquier, as the intrigue in Mike Carey’s script hits a fever pitch.

| Published by IDW

Hungry Ghosts #4 ends the series on a high note, with stories illustrated by Irene Koh and Francesco Francavilla. Like the previous issues, the stories from Anthony Bourdain and Joel Rose are likely to be familiar to you, especially the Snow Woman as variants of it have been told and retold multiple times, but they’re well told here. And with wonderful artwork, all deftly elevated by José Villarrubia’s colours.

| Published by Dark Horse

Hunt for Wolverine: Adamantium Agenda #1 is the second of these mini-series, this one following a handful of Logan’s New Avengers compatriots. That remit at least makes more sense than the Weapon Lost premise, and leads to a flashback of Wolverine selflessly taking one for the team and thus having Iron Man, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, and Spider-Man start chasing down a lead for a DNA sequence sale in the present. Tom Taylor’s story gets more interesting from there and I look forward to seeing where this goes. Also, some really nice artwork from RB Silva, Andriano di Benedetto, and Jesus Aburtov. If given the chance, I wouldn’t mind seeing this creative team do more New Avengers, or even Defenders, material once this is over.

| Published by Marvel

Isola #2 is probably the most beautiful thing you’re going to find on the shelves this week, which is saying something since there’s also an issue of Monstress. Karl Kerschl and Msassyk are just raising the bar higher and higher on how gorgeous the comics page can look in the span of two simple issues. Apart from being a visual treat, the story is also captivating. Kerschl and Brenden Fletcher have a fable here that taps into the same kind of magical realism, whimsy, and ephemeral beauty of a Hayao Miyazaki film and it’s incredibly engrossing.

| Published by Image

Medieval Spawn & Witchblade #1 is some decent dark fantasy. Brian Holguin, Brian Haberlin, and Geirrod Van Dyke set up a pretty bleak, undead tainted past to throw what appears to be a new Medieval Spawn into, as much of this issue works to flesh out the mystery of his past and the blight that currently besets the land. No sign of a Witchblade yet. Some nice dark and moody art from Haberlin and Van Dyke.

| Published by Image

New Mutants: Dead Souls #3 is a turning point for the story, giving us essentially a reason for why all of this weird stuff is going on and more particularly why at least some of these former members of different incarnations of the New Mutants are present. All while the team starts turning on itself as Matthew Rosenberg begins to deal with some of the continuity and history of the team members. It’s good. If you’re a long time reader of these characters, you should love this. If you’re not and you’re a newcomer with this series, it’s still fun, with some great Adam Gorham art.

| Published by Marvel

Oblivion Song #3 raises some interesting questions about the people who were transported over into Oblivion. How living through that nightmare for ten years could have changed them, possibly made them go feral, and how troublesome it might be to have them readjust to life in a safe and sane world. Obviously the answer would seem to be to bring them back anyway, but it’s still an interesting question.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Old Man Logan #39 actually has a pretty clever play on one of the X-Men’s most prestigious stories in the title as “Glob Loves, Man Kills”. That should give you an idea as to the content of this issue, but I won’t spoil the surprise if you’re unsure. That said, we get more development on Old Man Logan’s problems with his healing factor, and Glob has a date. Nice artwork from Ibraim Roberson and Carlos Lopez, and it’s welcome again, like his run on Cable, that Ed Brisson is playing with the wider world of X-characters.

| Published by Marvel

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man #304 reminds you not to mess with the past, even if it’s ostensibly for a good reason. It never works out. Except in the art department. Adam Kubert gets to show off some nice redesigns for the heroes here and a really nice new version of a somewhat surprising villain.

| Published by Marvel

Port of Earth #5 returns us to Mac and Rice’s plight, with Rice not only dealing with the loss of his girlfriend, but finally figuring out what the alien was up to with his stolen badge. This is still a relatively slow moving series, with the issues fairly systematically broken down into an opening section that focuses on a documentary style analysis of the Port, the contract with the aliens, and the ESA and then the action following Mac and Rice, but it’s entertaining.

| Published by Image / Top Cow

Punks Not Dead #4 is still somehow raising the bar on how inexplicably strange this series can get, even as it’s making more and more sense.

| Published by IDW / Black Crown

Resident Alien: An Alien in New York #2 unfurls the mystery further as Harry and Dan try to figure out who wrote an NYC phone number in alien script. Steve Parkhouse’s art, as usual, really draws you in.

| Published by Dark Horse

Rough Riders: Ride or Die #4 is a fitting conclusion to the adventures of Teddy Roosevelt and his band of luminaries, even if we may see a different incarnation somewhere down the line. Adam Glass and Patrick Olliffe created a worthwhile real life analogue to literary supergroups like League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and the three series are worth picking up.

| Published by AfterShock

The Spider King #4 brings an end to this excellent mix of Viking action and weird science. It’s been a great story with amazing art, highly recommended.

| Published by IDW

Venom #1 is pretty damn good. The story from Donny Cates is compelling, building up a mystery for strange behaviour from the symbiote and expanding upon the Venom history, but stealing the spotlight is the art. Ryan Stegman was a good artist, with this issue he’s laying claim to being a great artist. With JP Mayer providing inks over Stegman’s pencils and Frank Martin delivering on the colour work, this is a damn fine looking comic. A great debut.

| Published by Marvel

World of Tanks: Citadel #1 is somewhere between Garth Ennis’ two usual war story extremes; the deeply serious realistic tales of historical war battles and incidents of series like War Stories and the over-the-top dark humour of Adventures in the Rifle Brigade. As such, it’s all right. Most of it is set up, allowing the tank drivers and gunners to get acquainted with their vehicles and crew. The art from PJ Holden and Michael Atiyeh is fairly nice.

| Published by Dark Horse

Other Highlights: Astonisher #7, Barbarella #6, Betrothed #3, Betty & Veronica: Vixens #6, Black Cloud #9, Calexit #3, Dejah Thoris #4, Dissonance #3, Ghostbusters: Answer the Call #5, Ghost Money #10, Green Hornet #3, Incredible Hulk #716, Jim Henson’s Fraggle Rock #1, Maestros #6, Monstress #16, Outcast #35, Planet of the Apes: Ursus #5, Prism Stalker #3, Pumpkinhead #3, ROM & The Micronauts #5, Rose #11, Runaways #9, Savage Tales: Vampirella, Sleepless #6, Southern Bastards #20, Spider-Man vs. Deadpool #32, Star Trek: The Next Generation - Through the Mirror #2, Star Wars: Darth Vader #16, Star Wars: The Last Jedi #1, Star Wars Adventures #10, Star Wars: Thrawn #4, Unbeatable Squirrel Girl #32, Xena: Warrior Princess #4, X-Men Blue #27, You Are Deadpool #2

Recommended Collections: Accell - Volume 2: Pop Quiz, Amazing Spider-Man: Venom Inc., Angelic - Volume 1: Heirs & Graces, Beasts of Burden: Animal Rights, Dark Fang - Volume 1: Earth Calling, Death of Wolverine - Complete Collection, Despicable Deadpool - Volume 2: Bucket List, Hawkeye - Volume 3: Family Reunion, The Shadow: Leviathan, Sheena: Queen of the Jungle - Volume 1, Sherlock Frankenstein and the Legion of Evil

d. emerson eddy cannot be disassembled and reassembled like a Mr. Potato Head. So, please, stop trying.

[cecilspeaks]

113 - Niecelet

Gooooooood eevening, fine citizens. I’m your late night host this week, here to keep you company after sundownn.

Welcome to Night Vale!

As you regular listeners already know, I took over the night shifts this week, because I’ve been spending my days with a very special house guest. Well, more like one and a half house guests. My favorite cousin Sabina is visiting, and she’s 7 months pregnant with what will be my second ever niece. Well, my first ever niece once removed. First ever niece once removed? That takes too long, let’s do – “niecelet”.

My sister’s daughter Janice is a teenager. It’s been so long since I’ve had a new baby in my family so, if you hear a certain knowing, avuncular quality in my voice, it’s because you are listening to an expecting uncle. I’m already getting some of those leather patches sewed onto the elbows of my windbreaker.

All week, Sabina and I have been reading baby books, and I am a veritable expert at this point. A baby at 7 months is as big as an eggplant. She can already get the hiccups and déjà-baby-vu, and has a fully developed sense of comedic timing. I’m holding an eggplant with me here in this studio to practice supporting her neck. Also to make sure I have something to eat when I get home. Sabina’s cleaned out the fridge pretty thoroughly.

Back at my place, Sabina’s been keeping the radio on 24/7, so the niecelet will know the owner of this dulcet baritone already loves her very much. Hello, almost-niece!

Doing all this reading together, it seems crazy to learn just how vulnerable we are, when we first enter the world. Did you know that a newborn doesn’t even have kneecaps yet? That it has a hole in the top of its skull, which must be taped shut so the newborn does not escape through it during the night? It’s amazing any of us survive to the shaming ceremonies at all!

Speaking of rites of passage, the annual Night Vale Science Fair is scheduled for this Monday night. Every fourth grader is expected to report to the Rec Center for a fun-filled evening of free programs and live demonstrations. Organizers say the kiddos will have a chance to make a 1:1 scale volcano, that spews real ash and molten igneous rock. They’ll learn how a pile of pennies can be transformed into a battery, simply by taking those pennies to Walgreens and exchanging them for a pack of Duracell double A’s. They’ll learn about about centripetal force by pouring a bucket full of water, and then filling out a worksheet on centripetal force. They’ll plant a bean sprout in a Styrofoam cup that won’t disintegrate until their grandchildren have set off on exploratory missions to find another planet that can support bean sprouts.

Hmm, what else might be on the Community Calendar this week, you ask? Well, let me work at my own pace over here, OK pal? Like all jobs worth doing, this one takes focus and patience. You can’t just rush through it. As my optometrist says, “measure twice, cut once, then do the left eye.” So I guess that’s really measure four times total and cut two times, but I had an astigmatism so I ended up just sticking with contacts anyway.

Sooo.. [papers rustling] let’s see here. [clears throat] M-h-h-h-hmm, this week’s events. On Tuesday night, head over to the Band Shell to hear a set from Ouroboros, the rock band that only plays covers of their own songs. Wednesday, Ablution in Fresca to celebrate the start of the Andorran New Year. Thursday is Thirsty Thursday. Consume no liquids. You’re gonna get real thirsty! Friday has been indefinitely delayed by weather at O’Hare, and is now pleading with a United representative for a hotel voucher to avoid sleeping in a plastic chair in Concourse C.

Early morning on Saturday, we are in for a rare astronomical treat. The Earth will fully eclipse the Sun, blotting out its light completely, so that only a ring of wispy blue remains visible against the blackness. Now this eclipse will not be observable on Earth, of course, and to our knowledge there is no planet on which this phenomenon could be observed. There’s just nothing on that particular vector in space, but at 4:13 AM on Saturday morning, the total eclipse will occur, and that blue corona will shine softly in the dark, like a delicate smoke ring. And that dim blue halo will represent the entirety of us. Our dramas, dreams, and disappointments. The first ride without the training wheels. Our 8th grade dances. Our double Windsors and our veils, our sleepless nights in waiting rooms. Our rush hour commuters, our dozing through recitals til the one we love goes on. Our crying in the car as the one we love leaves home. Just that thin filament of blue, on which we wage our peace.

The on Sunday, tacos and gun safety with Three-eyed Bill at First Methodist.

Stay tuned, savvy listeners, for in a moment I’ll be sharing Night Vale’s third quarter economic development report. To my knowledge, we’ve never had an economic development report before for any quarter, but the press release looked official, and we all know that new municipal arms of government form all the time. Arms that then pull back to be reabsorbed by the government shoulder from which they sprouted.

But before crunching those numbers, a quick message from today’s sponsor. Equinox Gym. At Equinox, we focus on the whole body. Particularly, the soft and vulnerable parts of that body. Stop by our windowless complex today to meet with a dietician about this month’s promotion, the Zima cleanse. Or for even faster results, nothing torches calories like our calorie torch. Also, new members this week to Equinox receive 60 days of free access to our popular Judgment Spa. This has been a word from our sponsor.

[booming voice] Now to business news. Whoa! Did that sound unusually powerful to you? Ooh, I sorta took myself by surprise there, like I grew a suit or something! [chuckles] [clears throat] The Night Vale Economic Development Board, or NV-ec-dev-B for short and cumbersome, sent a press release at the closing bell of the Night Vale stock exchange. The bulletin said that futures are down, way down. Although the recent past is trading briskly. In response to declining levels of interests, NV-ec-dev-B plans to incentivize consumer spending. At the start of tomorrow’s business day, they’ll launch an abject prompt campaign of xenophobia, branded as nationalism, branded as civic bride, branded as a 2008 F150 Ford truck with satellite radio, air conditioned seats, and a heavy-duty hitch to haul away whatever it is you’re trying to hide.

So make plans this weekend to head out towards the used car lot with your hands in the air and your checkbook in your mouth, to meet with a sales person about financing options. You might be surprised by how few years of indentured servitude can you get you behind the wheel of a Ford truck.

You know what cars make me think of? Well, Carlos. I guess, but everything makes me think of Carlos. And his name is an anagram of “Lo cars”. He’s out of town at Erlenmeyer Flask Con this week, and I miss something fierce! But what I was going to say is that the thought of buying a car reminds me of my niecelet! It’s extraordinary to think that she’ll be a teenager some day, getting her driver’s permit, then her license, then her crossbow - going through all of these phases we all pass through. It’s like there’s a future attached to her already. Inside Sabina, there’s a baby, and seated inside the baby there’s the toddler. And within her are the blueprints for the girl. And soon, she’ll be out here learning to play the sitar and considering vegetarianism, then voting and buying lottery tickets. Well, those are the same thing really. And I’ll get to bear witness to this blooming life. Some day, she might even decide to have a niece of her own.

[tearily] Oh, OK. Um, something is in young Cecil’s eye over here. Ooh! Hang tight, team, I’m just gonna run out and grab a bunch of tissues from the supply closet to remove this bothersome… [key turns in lock, falls down] OK, listeners, I must admit I’m in a state of concerned agitation here. When I tried to open the door of the studio, the handle – came off in my hand and and and and when I went to reinsert it, I found that the hole was (tamped) full of soft hot tar, which cannot be up to code. So now I find myself in a small, soundproof, airtight room with a doorless handle in my left hand and a handle-less door before me. I’m uh… Huh… I’m- I’m I’m uncertain of just how to proceed, uh, I can’t imagine there’s more than a few hours’ worth of oxygen in here, even if the studio’s potted fern works double duty on converting the carbon dioxide.

Oh man and of course, I left my phone in my jeans in the other room, you know, after I changed into my professional radio hosting unitard. I, OK, I need some time to assess the situation.

I’ll leave you to the weather.

[Weather: "If We Live" by Disparition]

OK. OK, OK, alright calm down, calm down Cecil, calm down, and you can beat this. be like the patient viper who does not strike until his prey is upon him. [sharp exhale] Be like the praying mantis whose head is a guitar pick. Keep your heart rate low and your focus steady, and good God, sit down, man. Save your strength. Breathe deep enough to get the air inside your brain and think. What would an uncle do?

Hmmm. Hummmmmmmm. [getting faster and higher] Hmmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmmmmm… Oh! OK, I’ve got it. Easy, I just need one of you to come and open the door. [chuckles] OK, here I am behaving like I’m alone, but of course I’m not alone, ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, I’ve got all of Night Vale listening. Ooh, that is a relief! Come to think of it, I imagine hundreds of you may be on your way already, and I can’t have the whole town rushing over all at once. That would cause traffic jams, hysteria, straightline winds gusting up to 60 knots. [laughs] If you’re on your way, just shoot quick flare into the sky, so that everybody knows you’re the one on the way. M-more importantly so that I know you’re on the way.

You guys, it’s like 8 PM, you’re not all in your PJ’s yet. Just need one person to make the trip. It’s like an 8-minute drive from your apartment, come on! Is… Is no one listening? I mean, the memo from management at the last all-staff meeting did mention low late night ratings but – this is not low, this is talking into a tin can on string whose other end is tied to a fire hydrant at the bottom of the sea, this is utter futility, this is falling in the woods and no one’s there to hear you. This is not seeing the Cecil for the trees, this is – Kafka meets Becket and tells him to talk to the hand. This is – stop, full stop. Cecil. [deep breath] This indignation does me no good at all. Just burns through my oxygen supply, which is running low already. This rate, I’ll never survive until the morning commuters tune in. Just think, Cecil. Think like an uncle.

Ooh. That’s it! There is at least one person listening. Babies never sleep thru the night, right? So you, niecelet, you should be able to hear me. Tho I imagine the sound of my voice may be muffled by the blankets on the guest bed and Sabina’s abdominal muscles. Alright, niecelet, I need you. We’ve got to find a way to wake up Sabina. I need you to kick, brace your little elbows on the soft wall behind you and really kick! Aim for a spot under the ribs, that roof of bone above you. And again. [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! Now give it everything you’ve got this time! Sabina, wake up! This is an emergency! Wake u-

Oh. The station phone is ringing. God I forgot we even had this. uh caller, you’re on the air.

Sabina: Hey, Cecil. The baby was keeping me up and I turned on the station and-

Cecil: Sabina! Oh, thank God you’re awake! No, no it’s not a shtick, listen. I am trapped in the studio and I just need someone to open the door from the outs-

Sabina: Oh OK, I’ll be right there. But I’m starving, I may stop by Subway for a mashed potato and Nutella sandwich.

Cecil: No, please come now! We’ve got snacks in the breakroom pantry.. I think. I’ll set you up with some (gorb and gevilta) fish.

Sabina: Alright. Hey, did you know that there’s a faceless old woman living in your home? She keeps trying to put lotion on my belly, while I’m sleeping.

Cecil: Yeah, she does that. Listen, my spare office keys are by the lucky cat. See you soon, and thank you Sabina!

Sabina: Hey, enough with the lotion, lady!

Ooooohh. And thank you, niecelet! At negative two months old, you’ve already saved a life! And somehow I get the feeling mine might be just the first of many. If you need bailing out of a tight spot some day, you know who to call. I’m the baritone you can count on any time, kid, day or night shift.

Ahhh, man! I can’t wait for that door to open so I can get a lungful of fresh air. Oh, it’s funny how small a room can feel when you’re not allowed to leave. Oh, sorry I [chuckles] forgot who I was talking to for a second. Well, as soon as you’re out here breathing air yourself, I’m getting you a pair of cleats and a pair of baby shinguards and a baby cape, too. I can’t wait to meet you, little hero of a niecelet! But first, I’m making your mother some midnight eggplant parmesan.

Stay tuned next for the sounds of a door opening, a rush of oxygen-rich air, and a wheezing celebration of an overworked respiratory system. Aany second now. Aaaany second. Aaaaaanyyyy secondd.

[long silence]

Today’s proverb: Follow your heart. You need it. Where did it ever learn to walk?