Aloha thai fusion food truck

A backstory to the situation, I (22m) my Girlfriend(20yrs) has a little sister and let’s call her Naomi(11yrs). You see, Naomi is a good kid but however things are getting worse far as her actions & listening. I'll name a few things, she has trouble with keeping her room clean, arguing back to her parents, saying inappropriate things, having the last thing to say, and now on the side when these things happen we would take her to the side and talk with her and explains how what she does/say can have consequences. We try to find solutions. (At this point it’s almost present day)She evidently gets kicked out of 2 school in the span of two days. Her punishment was to do manual labor at home and she couldn’t go to school because it was the end of the school year. Moving bricks is what she had to do, she had to move a certain amount in the each day. Naomi basically had to do community services work but at home. During this, she would say, “my arms hurts” “my backs hurts”, etc. Things kids say when doing hard work, fair. she is allowed shower, food, breaks, and bathroom use. She had to stay outside during the day to work. We would give her advice to help work smarter not harder. She unfortunately didn’t utilized time to work. She had to sleep outside one night inside the truck and it wasn’t raining or anything bad but clear as day. It would gradually become more difficult, one day it went from bad to worse. She was outside screaming and crying to her mom why she had to do all the work. At this point I left to work, My GF had to get in between to help because what Naomi would do is ask why and would stand at the door crying and depending, she would scream. I was coming home and get a call that her mom went to jail because of child abuse(She was let out the next day).According to what Naomi had to say, she had to sleep out side for 3 nights, her stomach was hurting for 5 days which I never heard nor did she tell anyone, and she was choked & hair pulled by her sister also she said she had to use the restroom outside. Naomi had to stay with a family friend that day. Skip to today, my gf mom is already facing 3 counts of child abuse charges and up to 9 years in prison. Guess who also as of today?! The step-dad & her sister! They both have to go to court and one of them is already a felon. The only thing that’s true is she had to sleep outside 1 night! They took only the statements from Naomi but no one else. We the family didn’t want all of this to happen. She wasn’t even hit because the mom don’t want child abuse charges she’s facing now. I thankful didn’t get serve anything but what do I do?!?!?!! Edit: they are all facing the same charges.

Memory transcription subject: Josak, Arxur-Human Cultural Exchange Member
Date [standardized human time]: November 11, 2136
As crude as the comparison is, it was almost like wrestling Gojid trying to get Moss back onto the RV. She and her dad kept getting roped back into conversation with each other. Carmen described it as like a “midwestern goodbye” even if they were from the eastern portion of the North American landmass. Eventually the goodbye finally ended and Mr. Lykaios offered a final farewell to us all and a thanks for my help fixing the door.
In all truth, I felt it was unearned. He did most of the work. I just held up the door so he could balance it on the hinges. I did learn from him though. Still, I didn’t know exactly how useful it was to know how to repair a doorway.
“Aight. We got, uh, like 15 minutes until the stop and shop. That’ll be the last place ta piss, shit, or release other fluids until we reach the ranch.” Moss questioned.
They had taken up the driver’s seat with Carmen.
“Noted!” Geo yelled in response.
“Can you please not swear around my kids so much?” Carmen solemnly asked.
Moss raised their fist as if to flip the bird to Carmen, but instead, they held up a thumbs up and spoke. “Sure thing, toots. My apple hoagies.”
“Ugh. You’re supposed to be a therapist, and you’re honestly helping by just talking to me, but you make it unbearably hard to respect you.” Carmen whispered.
I figured it was best for me to stop listening even if it meant leaving the comfiest spot on the bus. Carefully, I crawled on all fours towards the other end. The other three of the family were all lazing about in the camper’s spacious sleeping cabin. I crossed through their cabin area and into the final section of the moving house. Mara and Dani were sleeping while Geo listened to little videos from a place called “youtube”.
I left them to themselves and closed the door between their room and the place I wanted to myself. I wanted to figure out how to play the guitar that Moss had stolen for me. I had no idea how to, but I figured it couldn’t be too hard. I sat down into the worn chair in the corner and picked up the flimsy wooden instrument. I didn’t even know entirely how to hold it. Everyway I tried to hold it felt wrong in a different way. I settled on the way I had seen Cris hold it. It still felt off, but it was what it was.
I tried to hold the guitar pic in my claws, but my fingers simply weren’t meant for such a small thing. Instead, I thought for a second and then tried my own strategy. I beated one of my claws against the strings, making sure not to snag it. The strings gave out a twangy sound. The heavier strings were lower in pitch while the lighter ones were higher.
I still had no idea how to play the dang thing, but I knew what sounds I liked. I tried to keep them quiet though and I tried and tried again to recreate them the same each time. Even if I didn’t know what I was doing, I still enjoyed it. It was soothing to hear the ornamental sounds. The few minutes spent alone felt euphoric. I think it was because I didn’t feel alone with the guitar. I felt as if I was with a good friend. One that I hoped to see again eventually.
I put the instrument back down as the bus rolled to a stop in a very large battery station. I walked out into a strip of shining LED lights and a few neon signs too. Despite the fact that humanity had nearly been bombed to oblivion, the station was still packed full of travelers and freight drivers. It was 20 separate lanes of chaos with batteries charging on electrical racks all the way down. There was a market and a restroom next to the lanes.
To any other Arxur, the place would seem comparable to a small military camp, but I knew better. Humans were decadent in the best of ways. The whole place was for everyone to enjoy, and that was honestly beautiful. A whole station full of cheap food for weary travelers and plenty of amenities for any sort of situation.
“Joe, you get battery duties. I already swiped the card and everything. Don’t electrocute yourself. I’m gonna grab some grub for everyone.” Moss declared.
I followed the therapists orders and carefully replaced the batteries in order to not electrocute myself. The humans used some sort of hydrogen cell instead of the usual diesel powered vehicles I was used to. Regardless, it wasn’t too hard to figure it all out. The battery symbol on the bus was quite recognizable and with a quick flip of a hatch, I found the 4 packs. It took a little out of me, but I managed to replace the heavy contraptions with freshly charged ones from the charging wall. As I was about to place the last fresh battery into the bus, I heard a voice yell out from the lane over.
“Holeeee shit! Is that another Arxur I spy? Jesus, you guys sure are finding your ways around the states, huh?” the voice inquired.
I placed the battery into the compartment and finished the job of locking it up before responding. Though I was curious as to his mention of another Arxur, I didn’t want to forget to close up the compartment. Getting stuck on the side of the road wouldn’t be fun. As I completed my task, the man grew impatient and questioned me again. I feared he would respond with anger, but he instead seemed worried that he had offended me.
“Hey! You ignoring me? I wasn’t trying to be rude or nothing.” the man declared.
“No, mister. Just making sure I close everything up. My apologies.” I replied
“Oh, sorry then.” he babbled
“What did you mean by another Arxur? Am I not the first one out here?” I asked.
“Oh, uh, hell nah. Plenty of y’all have been seen trying to head inland from the coasts. Heck, I just dropped one of yas off in the Appalachians. Feller said he was trying to escape some government fuckwads or sometin. You trying to do the same, boy?” he inquired.
“No. I am merely trying to make a better life for myself and a family I found here. My family.” I said with a smile.
“Well good on ya, buddy. Hehehe. They told us before y’all came here that you were all a buncha psychobillies or somethin, but y’all don’t seem so bad. Ya just need some meat on your bones and you calm right down. That’s how that other feller was. He was as ornery as could be, but once I got some food in him, he cheered up quite a bit.” the chunky man laughed.
“I apologize on behalf of our species if he gave you any trouble. We’re… we’re not good people.” I admitted.
“Arxur, you fellers ain’t that bad. So don’t apologize like that. I’ve met worse in my own family. My daddy, he was a very brutal man. Mean old drunk. He would beat me, and he was family. That feller I picked up, he described the same story. I related to him. I relate to you all a bit, I spose. You fellers are just a buncha fellers that found themselves in a bad situation. Sure, you’re a little less moral than the Donner party, but ya still are trying to be better. I see that.” the man cheerily declared.
“Mmm. You have my sympathies. No child should have to go through that.” I replied.
“Eh, I won out in the end. He’s long dead from cirrhosis and I’m off saving the country and giving rides to aliens. It’s fun times. But this ain’t about me, bud. Don’t be calling your race bad people. You’re good people as long as you can see that you done bad. You yourself, you seem good.” the man declared.
I smiled sarcastically and responded similarly “Well, thank you, sir. I will try to prove you right. I don’t entirely think so though.”
“You have a right to think that, but I hope you change your mind one day. Have a good one, boy.” he said.
After he got done with his talk, the man returned to his hauler. He lumbered in and started the beast up. It gave out sounds of steam almost like a boiler whistle. Slowly, it lurched forward and started the man off on his next journey. In my head, I wished him the best.
As I turned to leave, I heard another more familiar voice from Geo. He ran up to me with flailing arms and yelled. “Josak, watch this!”
The kid put one of his arms in an L shape and pulled it down as if to signify something. The trucker rolled his window down and stopped his journey short for one last bit of speech.
“Sure thing, kid! You take care of that lizard, ya hear?” the trucker yelled before tugging a string within his rig.
The beast of a truck let out a loud and bellowing noise. The horn was almost painful to listen to, but the kid loved it. Geo burst into laughter and it only amplified as the rest of the trucks in the joint started joining in. It was a chorus of painfully loud horns and blares, but Geo loved it. He was happy and that was good.
The trucker gave out a final loud bout of laughter before rolling up his window and heading off into the world for good. I waved the stranger goodbye as I would probably never see him again.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The bustling port fell into its more usual noises. Carmen, Dani, Mara, and Moss all returned in due time. I waited with the kid in the camper until they finally got back in.
“Joe, catch!” Moss blurted as they entered the carriage.
They tossed a bag of unknown contents into the air and I did my best to catch the thing, but failed due to my inability to raise my arms up so high. I shamefully yoinked the bag from the ground instead. Inside there were glorious blessings such as jerkied meats and the treat that I coveted most, corn bread.
I opened all the packages and combined a little bit of everything into a mash before shoving it in. The flavors of the bread and the meat mixed together well enough. I loved it. With a mouth still full of food, I started yelling to the cockpit. “Thanks, Moss. The snacks are good.”
“No problemo, croco. Enjoy and bone apple teeth.” Moss chuckled.
I did enjoy it as they had asked of me. I put aside the rest of the cornbread though so as to not disturb my stomach. The jerky was delicious. The sausages were delicious. Even the SPAM in it’s uncooked form was delicious. What made it even better was that I was not eating alone. Everyone else was eating too. Charging port chicken wings, sandwiches, and vegetable chips. The atmosphere was something that could not be known in the Dominion.
They did not eat with shame on their minds, and as a result, neither did I. I knew that I was eating with a clear conscience unlike the times before. I only wished so much that the others could have experienced such luxuries, but at least the trucker had given me some hope. There were other Arxur out there on Earth. Others were trying to leave and to find new lives away from the horrors of war.
That restored my faith in us a little. We weren’t all like Idokam. We didn’t all need convincing to know that we needed to change. Some of us just needed a chance, and now that the gates were open, at least a few were taking it.
Other rejects and empaths were probably out there, just like me, trying to live one day at a time and trying to find a new way. Cheers to the draft dodgers and to the AWOL hunters. May the assholes who started the wars be forced to fight them so that they finally end.
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Josak has a talk with a trucker. This chapter is kind of a mix between filler and actual content. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, but I didn't want to skip out on the entire journey back to the glove. I hope you all don't mind it too much.

Hi,
I am from Houston, Texas. Well, I live just outside of Houston, but people who live near Houston usually say they are from Houston.
Anyway, I am 25 years old, and I was studying medicine overseas. I have permanently returned to the USA to continue my education. I work part time as an uber eats driver. This might be a relatively long post.
Hobbies/Interests: My hobbies are similar to most people, and we don't have to share the same hobbies or interests. - Movies and TV (Sci-fi, horror, and crime) - Exercising, especially running - Food (Thai, Mediterranean, and Indian) - Reading - Boardgames and videogames - Nature-y stuff. Walking outside. - Music (Instrumental, orchestral, and rap). I listen to songs from each genre. - Investing
I want to pickup more hobbies and interests. I would like to learn how to play the piano and violin. I want to learn a new language. I want to do outdoor activities such as hiking and maybe even camping. I have always wanted to learn video effects. It's great if you do one or multiple of these things, so I can learn or participate too. We can pickup a joint hobby too. However, I am a homebody.

• I have no physical requirements because I like people of all sizes and shapes. My tastes vary. However, I do want someone who is healthy. I would like someone who is understanding, open, and versatile among other things. I believe romance and intimacy are vital to a relationship, so I am drawn to physical affection. I love food, so that is one way to get to my heart.
  
• Physical Description: I am 5' 7" ~ ish. I have short black hair right now, but I am looking to grow it out again. My skin is light caramel, and I have dark brown eyes. My body is slim to average, but I would like to think I am fit. I enjoy running, and I like lifting too. I workout at home since I do not have a gym membership. I might sport some stubble, but I am usually clean shaven. My clothing style is atrocious. I usually wear shorts and a shirt. I need to improve my clothing game.
  
• Religion & Politics: I like to call myself a non-resistant nonbeliever, which is similar to agnosticism. I attended a Christian church when I was younger, and my undergraduate school was Catholic. My parents practice Hinduism, so I have some exposure to religion. I am open to anyone regardless of religious affiliation, and I would definitely like to learn. The same applies to politics. I think it is important to be challenged and to grow as a result. It's hard to pinpoint my political stance, but it is neither conservative nor democratic. My political ideology is always evolving.
  
• Matrimony & Kids: I envision a meaningful connection that is built on the premise of transcending the confines of societal expectations of matrimony and children, for I firmly believe that true love and commitment cannot be reduced to a legal contract or the obligation of raising offspring. I do not see myself in matrimony. While some people might find it strange, I believe that a strong and meaningful relationship doesn't require a matrimony certificate. However, I would throw that out the window if the right person asked me for mstrimony. Only Siths deal in absolutes. I prefer to focus on building a connection with someone without the added pressure and expectations of matrimony. I also do not want kids. I value my time and would rather use it to focus on my partner. If anything, I'd consider adoption, but I'm leaning towards no kids. This subreddit does not allow me to use the word m a r r i a g e in my posts. Cmon.
  
• Please message me via DM or PM. No ghosters please as if that will deter them. I'd like to talk regularly to build a connection. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to be ghosted or receive messages from people who only send me one word replies. I might have mentioned too much in this post. You don't have to read everything, and I don't mind repeating myself. I am willing to send a picture to verify. If you have any advice on improving my post, then let me know. Peace out.
  

So... I've been writing a personal story, and it surrounds Tranquility Base Hotel And Casino. A few friends I showed them to said I should share them in the community - I don't know if this is the place to share them, but I thought... May as well. They include my interpretations of the songs as well.
A hotel owner who takes her place as the receptionist... And is also looking for stories to write about, inspiration for her science fiction novels. A lover who decides to not give into is darker, more lustful desires, instead waiting for his lover's calls. A friend who's concerned about what's going on through experience, a friend who's concerned through context. A distant acquaintance that shares the feeling with the lounge singer about still fantasizing about each other from time to time, and that feeling is mutual with other young men. A young lady who is happy to find comfort in the hotel owner's world. Friends that are happy about the new world they can experience. The tales of Tranquility Base Hotel And Casino. (A description for a story inside of a story.)
Star Treatment: This number is the first we hear at the location. It sets the scene as the hotel and casino is a lovely, calm place that the owner has created and started for her friends. We find out the owner has also become the lounge singer, starting a 'cover' band called 'The Martini Police'. This song also makes some references to Science Fiction properties, which the lounge singer loves... We find out the hotel has been opened for everyone... And anyone. The lounge singer puts on a show for her friends, weaving metaphors together, a signature of her work. She even says she just wanted to be like the members of a band, maybe foreshadowing... Her friends look on, happy she's singing. She also makes reference to the fact that she wants to haunt the one she loves and hopes it's okay, but they're in a tough spot... For now. In fact, that may change, everyone's enjoying the residency, which the Lounge Singer even refers to the place as her 'Make-Belive Residency'. And she, along with everyone love it.
One Point Perspective - The Lounge Singer now sings to a much smaller crowd. Her friends that are much closer to her... She lists her intentions, past and present... Everything from starting the 'Cover Band', talkinh about a stunning documentary only she saw, and asking everyone to bear with her, she's losing her train of thought... She says that she's played to quiet rooms like this before, and while there's an element of sadness, she's really just glad and grateful she has friends to talk and sing to about her thought, no matter how random or existential they are. She likes reflection, no matter how small her perspective is... For now.
American Sports - This song is from the perspective of The Concerned Friend From Experience. He's friends with The Hotel Owner, but he's experienced strange visions and dreams that he suspects are tied to the hotel. He reflects on thoughts he keeps to himself, and perhaps he's not the only one having these visions... There may be some overlap with others. He never tells anyone these thoughts, for that's not what his peers are there for. He then makes a snide comment about explosive visions, similar to the American Sports he loves, plays, and sees others just outside playing.
Tranquility Base Hotel And Casino - This song is once again sung by the Lounge Singer. The Hotel Owner has now decided to take her rightful place as the receptionist - Little does she know the consequences... She reflects on everything the place means to her, guiding her friends along this place, to custom rooms and architecture she can't help but adore. She invites the young man she loves to kiss him, and asks her friends what she can do for them. She asks them to let loose, maybe even let their darksides out to play... Something the hotel and casino is trying to bring out. There's also an ominous buzzing and red light, something The Receptionist is trying to figure out why... Something's being hidden, but why? This is her hotel and casino...
Anyways: This track shows exactly why The Hotel Owner takes so much comfort and pride in the hotel and casino, despite the looming visions and possible dangers her friends are sharing - she needs a break from her real life. She reflects on her popular status, and how that has affected what she overshares and overthinks while vacuuming. She comes to sit down in an empty room, and this is the only song not performed in front of anyone else. She just wants to show who she really is, and thanks everyone who's stuck around with her. Being her isn't easy, she has so much to deal with, which others barely take time to think of, just trying to change the conversation to 'Anyways'. The number ends with one of her friends entering to check on her, ending the self-reflection.
Golden Trunks: Something dark is definitely happening at this place... Some people allowing their dark desires to overtake them. But why? This song is from the perspective of The Vindicated Friend. Yet as the number progresses, more voices join in, reflecting that... Everyone knows that The Lounge Singer has her eyes on someone else, he's even The Vindicated Friend's best friend. Yet... The Lounge Singer relented that it's always hard to live on, especially that now she's forgiven him. She admits that sometimes, her fantasies about the past get the better of her. Some over-sharing characteristic of her, he thinks, but he hates the fact he also does... And he's not the only one. Now... They're invited for it to become reality. But by who? The forces of the hotel and casino... Why?
Four Out Of Five: The ominous buzzing and red light has only intensified. And not just for The Receptionist. The Concerned Friend From Context has now found out the 'past' of the establishment, and now she, The Concerned Friend From Experience have gotten more rapid visions... As well as many other patrons. The Lounge Singer puts on a show for the grand opening of The Information Action Ratio, a taqueria she put on the roof of the casino. Yet, beneath her cheery vineer, she knows something is going on in the world she created, at the hotel and casino of her own making. She hates that, and wants to make everything better. She reflects on the state of the world that she doesn't want to return to, and tries to be cheeky and fun, happy to share some lovely Mexican food with her friends. Until she notices some are absent... How? Why? Why have her friends disappeared? Where have they gone?
The World's First Monster Truck Front Flip: A song that is a reflection of The Friend Who's Just Happy To Be Here. It's not that she took her friendship with The Hotel Owner for granted, but she never knew she was capable of... This! She has never had the easiest life, so being offered a getaway where all she has to do is press a button, is a happy comfort she doesn't mind to take part in. She has a lot more trust in The Hotel Owner than The Hotel Owner has in her, but the gap is being closed. There's so much for her, shows for her to see, time she can spend with her friends and her boyfriend. It doesn't matter that the hotel and casino wants her to be a little darker... After all, she's a bad girl trying to be good, happy to have a friend who supports her.
Science Fiction: The Lounge Singer indulges in her cheeky writing, and we find out she's The Aspiring Science Fiction Writer. Dark events are occuring around her, and it's not that she's oblivious, she just doesn't know the depth. She's fine to sing a complicated, multi-layer love song to The Young Man Who's Unsure If He's Even In Love. She even references the fact that him, and his other friends, probably have no idea what she's talking about. She's singing songs about hidden messages, and they're certainly staying that way.
She Looks Like Fun: As The Young Man Who's Unsure If He's Even In Love watches The Lounge Singer, he can't help but sink deeper into his lustful fantasies. He's trying his best to focus on what she's singing about, and even if she does a damn good job singing a line as ridiculous as 'Cheeseburger', he can't help but comb through memories of their past... Maybe if he was to return her feelings, things wouldn't be so bad. She's a damn good dancer, and he's not the only one who thinks so... Everyone watching her would be inclined to agree. Perhaps she would be a fun girlfriend...
Batphone: The Young Man Who's Unsure If He's Even In Love knows there's a batphone that will give him immediate, private access to The Receptionist, but is keen to wait for her to call. Batman imagery means a lot to them, and he reflects in her cheekiness. He's an introspective young man, so he reflects on everything he's never told his friends... The hotel and casino seems to have that effect on people. Another effect occurring is... Dark forces and energy around him. Something strange is going on, but he's oblivious. He's too busy making his observations that he can can only share with The Receptionist. He's chosen to not given into the lustful tendencies that the hotel and casino have called him to. He's still not committing to her, or even giving her a straight answer, but maybe she'll know he's waiting... As he thinks about what's going on in the hotel and casino, because... Come to think of it, where have some of his friends gone?
The Ultracheese: The conflict is over. All that's left is The Hotel Owner and her friends. Tranquility Base Hotel And Casino is going to close its doors temporarily, as it'll have to be re-done soon, and The Hotel Owner will have to return to reality. She thinks about the ironic death she could die, despite the fact she's immortal... Writing songs about everything she's lost, like the friends that she still thinks of, has pictures of on the wall. Those people were far from her friends, so now she's just happy that she has the friends that surround her now that lover her no matter what. She knows she's done things in the past she shouldn't have, and even apologizes for the damage that may have been caused from the hotel and casino. Her friends embrace her in a hug, and she looks out, not just to The Young Man Who's Unsure If He's Even In Love, but to all of her friends, that despite everything, especially in the past year, she's never stopped loving them. Their presence has made this sad song at least into a bittersweet one. It's the perfect way to end their summer, and the perfect bookend of their friendships.
However, even the songs that aren't primarily sung by The Lounge Singer, she still sings these songs in her dreams... These songs are their stories, but the whole thing is her story as well.

Wish List: Teslas below, AA/SS/1S melee below, rare apparel/masks, or Vanguard Scout armor with +Strength/Cavalier
I still need the following Teslas: H/50c/25,,, Jug/50c/25,,, Med/50L/15r,,, Troub/50c/25
I still need the following AA/SS/1S melee: cultist blade,,, gulper smacker
Complete Trade List: (Thank you for your time browsing this huge list!!!)
FIXERS: AA/25/15r,,, AA/25/15v,,, AA/50c/15v,,, AA/50vhc/25,,, AA/50L/25,,, AA/AP/25,,, AA/E/Dur,,, Ari/25/15r,,, Ari/E/15r,,, Ari/E/25,,, B/25/15v,,, B/50L/25,,, BAP/25,,, Exe/25/25,,, Exe/50c/25,,, Exe/AP/25,,, Exe/E/25,,, F/50c/25,,, GouE/25,,, GS/50c/25,,, GS/E/25,,, H/50c/25,,, Jug/50c/25,,, Jug/AP/25,,, Junk/25/15r,,, Junk/50c/15v,,, Junk/50c/25,,, Junk/50L/25,,, Junk/AP/25,,, Junk/E/15v,,, Med/25/25,,, Med/50c/25,,, Med/AP/25,,, Mu/AP/25,,, MS/50c/25,,, MS/AP/25,,, N/AP/25,,, N/E/25,,, Q/25/15r,,, Q/25/15v,,, Q/AP/25,,, St/50c/25,,, St/AP/25,,, St/E/25,,, Su/50c/25,,, Su/AP/25,,, Su/E/25,,, T/50c/25,,, T/AP/25,,, TS/25/15r,,, TS/25/15v,,, TS/50vhc/25,,, TS/AP/25,,, V/AP/25,,, Z/25/25,,, Z/E/25
HANDMADES: AA/E/15v,,, Junk/25/15r,,, MS/E/25,,, Mu/E/25,,, Mu/50c/25,,, Q/50vhc/25
HEAVY WEAPONS: AA/25/90 AGL,,, AA/25/15r Cryolator,,, AA/25/90 Harpoon Gun,,, As/25A/90 Fatman,,, As/25/90 Gatling Plasma,,, B/E/Gho 50cal,,, B/25A/90 Cryolator,,, B/50L/90 Cryolator,,, B/25A/90 Missile Launcher,,, B/50vhc/90 Missile Launcher,,, B/50L/90 AGL,,, Exe/50c/15r Flamer,,, Exe/25A/90 Gatling Plas,,, Exe/E/25 LMG,,, F/50c/25 Cryolator,,, Q/25/15v LMG,,, Q/50L/90 Minigun,,, TS/25/15r Gatling Gun,,, TS/25/25 LMG,,, TS/E/25 Minigun,,, V/25/15r 50cal,,, V/25A/90 Cryolator,,, V/25/25 Gatling Gun,,, V/50L/90 Harpoon Gun,,, Z/E/90 LMG
MELEE: AA/SS/1S Death Tambo,,, AA/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, AA/40P/1S Gulper Smacker,,, AA/SS/1S Pole Hook,,, AA/50c/15v Power Fist,,, AA/SS/1S Super Sledge,,, Ari/SS/1S Shovel,,, Ari/SS/1S Sledgehammer,,, As/40P/1S Chainsaw,,, As/40P/1S Drill,,, B/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, B/SS/25 Gulper Smacker,,, B/SS/25 Meat Hook,,, B/SS/1S Power Fist,,, Exe/40P/25 Drill,,, Exe/50c/1S Power Fist,,, Ext/SS/1S Drill,,, F/40P/40 Chainsaw,,, GS/SS/1S Chainsaw,,, I/SS/1S Death Tambo,,, I/SS/1S Golf Club,,, I/SS/1S Super Sledge,,, Junk/SS/1S Assaultron Blade,,, Junk/SS/1S Security Baton,,, Mu/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, MS/SS/1S Shishkebab,,, Su/SS/1S Spear,,, Su/SS/1S Tire Iron,,, Troub/SS/1S Bowie Knife,,, Troub/SS/1S Golf Club,,, V/SS/1S Combat Knife,,, V/SS/1S Deathclaw Gauntlet,,, V/SS/1S Pole Hook,,, V/SS/1S Sledgehammer,,, Z/SS/1S Fire Axe,,, Z/SS/1S Knuckles,,, Z/SS/1S Pipe Wrench
RAILWAYS: AA/50c/25,,, AA/50vhc/25,,, AA/E/15v,,, AA/E/25,,, Ari/25/15r,,, B/50vhc/25,,, B/E/15r,,, B/E/90,,, F/50c/25,,, F/E/25,,, GS/25/25,,, GS/50c/25,,, H/50c/25,,, I/25/25,,, I/50c/25,,, Junk/E/25,,, Q/50L/90,,, St/50c/25,,, Su/E/25,,, TS/50L/25,,, TS/50vhc/25,,, TS/50c/15r,,, TS/AP/25,,, TS/E/Dur,,, V/25/25,,, V/50c/25,,, Z/E/90
TESLAS: AA/25/15r,,, AA/50L/15r,,, AA/AP/25,,, B/25/Gho,,, Exe/25/15r,,, Ext/25/15r,,, F/25/15r,,, I/25/15r,,, Q/25/250,,, Q/AP/25,,, TS/25/15r,,, TS/25/25,,, V/25/250,,, V/25/Dur,,, V/50L/15r,,, Z/25/15r
AA/25/25 Assaultron Head,,, AA/50c/15v Crossbow,,, AA/50L/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, AA/25/25 Gamma Gun,,, AA/E/15r Hunting Rifle,,, B/AP/25 Compound Bow,,, B/25/25 Gauss Rifle,,, Exe/50c/25 Combat Rifle,,, Exe/50c/25 Double Barrel,,, Exe/E/25 Hunting Rifle,,, Exe/E/25 Lever Action,,, F/50c/15v Compound Bow,,, F/E/25 Double Barrel,,, F/50c/15v Thirst Zapper,,, GouE/25 Double Barrel,,, Gou25/25 Lever Action,,, GS/50c/25 Gamma Gun,,, Jug/E/25 Combat Rifle,,, Jug/50c/25 Laser Rifle,,, Junk/50c/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, Mu/50c/25 Crossbow,,, N/25/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, N/50c/25 Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, Q/50c/25 Assaultron Head,,, Q/25/15r Combat Shotgun,,, Q/25/15r Plasma Rifle,,, St/50c/25 Crossbow,,, St/E/25 Single Action Revolver,,, Su/25/25 Radium Rifle,,, TS/25/15r Combat Rifle,,, TS/50c/25 Combat Rifle,,, V/25/15r Enclave Plasma Rifle,,, V/50c/25 Bow,,, V/AP/25 Crossbow,,, V/50c/25 Gauss Rifle
ARMOR: Aristocrat's Heavy Robot left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Heavy Combat right leg with Strength/Sentinel,,, Assassin's Marine right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Assassin's T-45 right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Assassin's USA left arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim Heavy Robot right leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim Raider Power left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim USA right arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Auto Stim USA right arm with AP/WWR,,, Auto Stim USA right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Auto Stim USA right leg with Strength/WWR,,, Bolstering FSA chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Bolstering FSA left leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Marine right arm with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Sturdy Combat left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Bolstering Trapper chest with AP/Cavalier,,, Bolstering Trapper right arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Bolstering USA left arm with 7%LED/FDC,,, Bolstering USA left leg with slowed hungeWWR,,, Bolstering USA right leg with Agility/Cavalier,,, Bolstering USA right leg with Charisma/Sentinel,,, Chameleon FSA left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon Heavy Leather right arm with AP/WWR,,, Chameleon Marine right leg with AP/HDT,,, Chameleon Raider Power right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon Robot chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Chameleon Trapper left leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Chameleon USA chest with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Chameleon USA left arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Chameleon USA left leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Chameleon USA right arm with 7%LED/WWR,,, Chameleon USA right leg with AP/FDC,,, Cloaking Raider Power right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Cloaking USA right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Exterminator's FSA right arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Exterminator's FSA right leg with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Ghoul Slayer's FSA right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Life Saving Combat left leg with AP/WWR,,, Life Saving Trapper left leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Life Saving Trapper right leg with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Life Saving USA left arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Life Saving USA right arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Mutant's Excavator left arm with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Mutant's FSA chest with 7%LED/WWR,,, Mutant's FSA left leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Nocturnal Excavator right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Nocturnal Marine right arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Nocturnal USA right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Combat left arm with +25 Cryo resist/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Excavator right leg with Luck/Cavalier,,, Overeater's FSA chest with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Overeater's FSA right arm with Luck/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Combat left arm with 7%LED/JWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Metal left leg with Strength/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Raider left arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Overeater's Heavy Raider left leg with Charisma/WWR,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot chest with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Heavy Robot left leg with Agility/WWR,,, Overeater's Marine left leg with slowed hungeWWR,,, Overeater's Marine right leg with +25 Fire resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Metal left leg with +25 Cryo resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Robot right leg with Endurance/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Trapper left leg with +25 Fire resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's Trapper right arm with Luck/WWR,,, Overeater's T-60 left arm with +25% Env resist/WWR,,, Overeater's T-60 left arm slowed hungeWWR,,, Overeater's USA chest with +25 Cryo resist/HDT,,, Overeater's USA left arm with +25 Poison resist/Sentinel,,, Overeater's USA right leg with slowed hungeFDC,,, Overeater's Wood left arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Regenerating Heavy Leather right leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Regenerating Heavy Raider right arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Troubleshooter's Excavator right arm with 7%LED/Cavalier,,, Troubleshooter's Marine left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Troubleshooter's Sturdy Metal right leg with AP/Sentinel,,, Unyielding FSA chest with Intelligence/Dur,,, Unyielding FSA left arm with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding FSA left leg with AP/FDC,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat chest with Strength/HDT,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat right arm with +25 Poison resist/JWR,,, Unyielding Heavy Combat right leg with 7%LED/Less limb dam,,, Unyielding Heavy Leather right arm with AP/HDT,,, Unyielding Marine right leg with +25 Fire resist/WWR,,, Unyielding Metal chest with AP/HDT,,, Unyielding Metal right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Unyielding Robot right arm with Agility/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Sturdy Leather left leg with 7%LED/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Sturdy Metal chest with AP/WWR,,, Unyielding Sturdy Metal left arm with +25 Rad resist/Sentinel,,, Unyielding Trapper right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Unyielding USA chest with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA left arm with +25% Env resist/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA left leg with Charisma/Cavalier,,, Unyielding USA right leg with +25 Poison resist/JWR,,, Unyielding Wood chest with Luck/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's Excavator right leg with Intelligence/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's FSA left arm with slowed hungeSentinel,,, Vanguard's Heavy Leather right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Vanguard's Heavy Robot right arm with 7%LED/HDT,,, Vanguard's Marine right arm with AP/HDT,,, Vanguard's Sturdy Robot left arm with AP/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's Sturdy Robot right leg with 7%LED/WWR,,, Vanguard's USA chest with Luck/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's USA left arm with Intelligence/Sentinel,,, Vanguard's USA right arm with AP/Cavalier,,, Vanguard's Wood chest with Strength/Sentinel,,, Weightless USA left arm with Strength/Sentinel,,, Weightless USA right leg with AP/Cavalier,,, Zealot's USA right arm with AP/WWR,,, Zealot's USA right leg with AP/WWR
PLANS: Alien Blaster,,, Assault rifle,,, Barbed walking cane,,, Baseball bat rocket,,, Baseball bat searing puncturing rocket,,, Bear arm,,, Bear arm heavy mod,,, Boxing glove lead lining,,, Camo Backpack,,, Cave cricket tube,,, Deathclaw gauntlet,,, Dense marine armor torso,,, Dense trapper armor torso,,, Fire station bell,,, Flannel shirt & jeans,,, Hatchet electro fusion,,, Junkyard fountain,,, Machete sacrificial blade,,, Meat Tenderizer,,, Nuka girl area rug,,, Pepper Shaker,,, Pitchfork flamer,,, Protective lining marine underarmor,,, Protective lining raider underarmor,,, Puncturing pole hook,,, Radioactive barrel,,, Raw cement barricade,,, Scorchbeast queen plushie,,, Scorched tube,,, Shielded lining casual underarmor,,, Shielded lining marine underarmor,,, Shielded lining raider underarmor,,, Ski sword skate blade,,, Skiing outfit,,, Sledgehammer heavy searing sharp rocket,,, Small vault girl statue,,, Snallygaster plushie,,, Spiked walking cane,,, The Fixer,,, T-60 BOS knight paint,,, TV Aquarium,,, Ultracite emergency protocols,,, Undershirt & jeans,,, Vintage water cooler,,, WV state bird rug,,, Yao Guai tube,,, Cutting fluid recipe,,, Fasnacht donut recipe,,, Fasnacht sausage recipe,,, Healing salve Cranberry Bog recipe,,, Healing salve Mire recipe,,, Formula P recipe,,,Stimpak Diffuser recipe,,, Tato salad recipe
APPAREL: Asylum Uniform Pink,,, Clean Spacesuit,,, Emmett Mountain hazmat suit,,, Garrahan Foreman Outfit and Helmet,,, Grey Fishermans Overalls,,, Hunter's Long Coat,,, Longshoreman Outfit,,, Skiing red and green outfit,,, Straight Jacket Clean,,, ,, Winter Jacket and Jeans
CHEMS: Addictol: 180,,, Berry Mentats: 642,,, Buffout: 1515,,, Calmex: 535,,, Daddy-O: 1063,,, Day Tripper: 793,,, Disease Cure: 415,,, Mentats: 1000,,, Overdrive: 542,,, Psycho: 2803,,, Psychobuff: 1363,,, Psychotats: 1208,,, X-cell: 342
FOOD: Canned meat stew: 65,,, Pepper: 2528,,, Salt: 929,,, Spices: 1407,,, Sugar Bombs(w/rads): 380
MODS: Enclave plasma aligned flamer mod,,, Enclave plasma aligned sniper barrel mod,,, Enclave plasma severe beta wave tuner

Just now I’ve done the impossible. I threw up into the toilet, involuntarily peed all over myself while I was doing it AND managed to get my order for Thai food in at the same time. Truly I am a champion. The pinnacle of human performance.

I’ve been on aderall since I was 13 and started mowing lawns for money. I’m 25 now and can’t save worth a damn at all.
I always find myself spending money on my hyper fixations and going all in on them even tho I’m bored with it after a month or two and I am constantly blowing money on guns and alcohol. Every day I talk my addy I always end up buying a 6 pack or a bottle.
I work in a food truck and make 16/hr + tips and never seem to have money unless it’s our busy season and then I’m just working all the time and stores are closed and I’m too tired to buy stuff so I just shower and sleep after a 10+ hr day then repeat. Our busy season lasts about 4 months (june-Oct) and I don’t have trouble saving when I’m working all day all the time.
I’m sick of always being broke but I am able to pay all my bills I just have no savings ever I can’t seem to save a thing so I’m looking for advice or tips. I just got my security clearance for an IT Job that will pay 28/hr and I need to learn how to save money as my start date is in a month and don’t want to waste all of that.
Thank you for any advice I just feel like a failure cause all my friends are buying houses and starting families and I still can’t even figure out how to save $100 and not spend it.
P.S. I felt the need to include this as firearms are a hot topic. I wont talk politics about firearms as that’s not what this sub is for. Guns have always been my fixation since I was a kid. I thought it was important to add my constant purchases cause we all have constant purchases. Guns and alcohol are expensive.

I have been trying for the last five years to reach extreme minimalism. The benefits have been widely discussed however few offer practical ways to achieve it. I decided to start a discussion on it, sharing ideas and to make it easy to follow we start from the opposite. Not from what we have but how we would start if we had absolutely nothing.
Imagine yourselves absolutely naked in the middle of nowhere, a barren landscape on neutral temperature. You can snap your fingers and instantly get/equip what you need. How would you start?
According to the hierarchy of needs, we humans need shelter water and food to cover our absolute immediate needs.
First snap of fingers we get a pair of underwear. At least a pair for now. Let's get to work. We need shelter. There are many options to choose from. Mobile home or conventional. And small enough to clean. For mobility we pick a small trailer truck which these things: a single mattress on a plank and on the other side of the trailer a shower booth with a toilet bowl next to it. Next to the mattress there is a small kitchen sink with 80 cm countertop. Below the countertop there is a minibar fridge and next to it a built-in air-fryer. Under the plank of the mattress there is a single long (1.8 m.) drawer which splits in 2 compartments. One side -the longer one- is our cloth capsule wardrobe which we filled with basic clothing: 2 short T-shirts, 2 long T-shirt (all plain - neutral color), 2 shirts 4 underwear, 4 socks (2 short - 2 long) 1 pair of sneakers, 1 pair of bluejeans, one chico pants and one jacket. The smaller compartment has utensils (2 sporks 2 plates 2 knives with teeth, 2 stainless steel mugs, one for you one for a potential guest) The trailer does not have laundry machine the clothes are so few they can be washed by hand and dry in the sun.
The paragraph above is our base. It keeps us safe, rested, fed and watered. (Under the sink there is a small filter so we can drink the water.) In case we need to travel outside of the country we put everything in a 20-30 liter backpack and we are ready. In case we don't want the mobile home at all and we can rent accommodation, just take the clothes on the backpack and ready to move.
On technology: Our smartphone is enough nowadays to pay almost for everything even contactless payments. Just in case, an extra debit card would do the trick to withdraw cash if required especially when travelling abroad. The phone can also keep notes so no need for pens and notebooks. Either a light 15'' inch laptop or an ipad with a wireless palm keyboard can cover longer sessions of work that require more comfort on screen size and typing. Phones have good cameras for photos, if this is an actual hobby perhaps a small high resolution camera could be added. One charger and a power bank must be included here. Either on phone or laptop/ipad we can have online access to any book or news we may want to read no need for bulky book carrying.
Documentation: ID, Passport, driver's license should be enough to go almost anywhere. Authorizations, tax paperwork, credentials such as degrees or certifications can be mostly stored and verified online (thank you camera scanner) however this differs from country to country and from institution to institution so check what can be equally valid online as is in paper.
Tools and pharmaceuticals: Considering we have little, no tools are required. If something breaks down we replace it. Pharmaceuticals, if required, must be enough to last until next pharmacy is in range and our online prescription should allow us to buy more. Just in case meds should be bought only when required.
And pretty much that's it. Some basic clothes and basic technology on a backpack is all we need to live and create space for experiences not revolving around stuff. As Plinius the Elder said: ''Romans love to spend so much on shiny colorful marbles, statues and paintings...However when a fire breaks out they weep, not only for the unique treasures they lost but for the fortunes they spent to buy them.'' This goes not only to the hoarders, maximalists and over-consumers but to these minimalists who spend on few but very expensive items. (I am looking at you, Burberry coat and latest Mac ''minimalist'') Frugal, extreme minimalism with easy to replace stuff is the answer to fully detach oneself from material possessions and live life without the materialistic stress.
Please feel free to add ideas or anything you think it is absolutely essential but missing from the list.
PS: Nobody starts with absolutely nothing how to reduce the existing material possessions? Depending on item use one of these steps in that order: Either Sell, Donate, Abandon (leave it outside of a trash bin on a plastic bag for someone to pick it up) Recycle, or throw it straight to the trash. Online search is enough to gauge the value of almost anything. (Marketplace, Craigslist, buy-sell social media groups etc or even find the price of your item as new from an online shop and sell it 30-50% cheaper)

From what I understand, the State has it’s requirements and then the counties have their own. I’d appreciate it very much if someone running a legal food truck in Ohio could answer some questions for me. For starters, one concern I have is that I thought that you couldn’t run a food truck without prepping your food in an already existing restaurant. I’m not sure if I got this information from the county or the State. If anyone is interested in answering some questions for me, please message!

The sun blazed relentlessly upon the bustling streets of the capital city of the DRC, its scorching rays adding an extra layer of tension to the already heated atmosphere. As the beads of sweat trickled down the brows of the crowd, a sea of anxious faces turned towards the makeshift stage where President Tshisekedi was about to deliver a pivotal speech.
The President stood tall on the stage, his demeanor calm and composed. What would he say about the recent events with Rwanda? Was war on the horizon?
News crews poised like vultures, assembled strategically in order to capture every moment of the President's address. Cameras captured every angle while microphones dangled precariously from booms, ready to transmit the President's words to millions of eager viewers. Within the crowd, a mother clutched her child's hand tightly, her eyes searching for a glimpse of hope.

I have a dream today!

His voice, a steady baritone, cut through the stifling air like a knife, commanding the attention of all who listened.

I dream of a day when food trucks roam the bustling streets of the Democratic Republic of Congo, serving savory burgers to a hungry nation. I dream of a time when people from all walks of life, united by their love for good food, can gather around these mobile kitchens and share in the simple pleasure of a delicious meal.
I have a dream that one day, the aroma of grilled patties will fill the air in every village, town, and city across this great nation. That the sizzle of juicy meat on a hot grill will resonate as a symbol of hope, resilience, and unity. In this dream, the food truck becomes a beacon of joy and prosperity, where dreams are nurtured with every bite.
I have a dream that the people of Africa will embrace this culinary revolution. That they will see beyond the confines of sketchy dining establishments and find nourishment and empowerment in the future -- empowerment in food trucks. These mobile eateries will not only satisfy their physical hunger but also nourish their souls with the spirit of entrepreneurship and community.

President Tshisekedi spoke of unity, of progress, and a vision for a brighter future. His words resonated deep within the hearts of the crowd, stirring emotions that had long been suppressed.

I have a dream that the burger will empower the people of this great nation, providing opportunities for aspiring chefs, young entrepreneurs, and those seeking to make a difference. It will be a vehicle for economic growth, where dreams can be realized through hard work, determination, and the pursuit of excellence.
I have a dream that burgers will transcend the boundaries of ethnicity, language, and social status. It will become a melting pot of flavors, cultures, and ideas, fostering understanding, respect, and unity among the diverse people of the Congo.
I have a dream today!
I dream that one day, every food truck in this nation will stand as a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Congolese people. They will serve as a reminder that dreams, no matter how small or seemingly ordinary, can inspire greatness, ignite change, and transform communities.
So let burgers fling from food truck windows! Let the aroma of burgers be a catalyst for progress and equality. And let us all join hands and feast upon the dream that one day, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, every burger served will be a symbol of unity, opportunity, and the pursuit of a brighter future.

As the President concluded his speech, his aide Mr. Kabila unveiled a glorious food truck from underneath a velvet covering. Its shiny metals glistened in the sun, a symbol of health, progress, and a path forward out of poverty.
The President's message was clear. Their dreams were not some far flung fantasy. Not some far flung hope. Their dreams were today! Their dreams could be achieved, here and now! The Congo only needed to dream big enough, work hard enough, to achieve its greatest aspirations!
The crowd erupted into applause, their faces beaming with a newfound sense of hope.

Continued from Pt. 1, which can be found at:
Pt 1: https://www.reddit.com/Horror_stories/comments/13wymkl/ghost_word_pt_1/
WARNING: This story contains depictions of non-consensual sex and gun violence.
---------------------------------
Lyle found himself on foot, the valise at his side, the night air crisp and noisy. He realized he was ravenous. No surprise there, he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in twenty-six hours. The late evening traffic was brisk around the campus, and as he passed a roving pack of students Lyle realized it was Thursday night*. Thirsty Thursdays*.
In keeping with ancient tradition, the majority of undergraduates avoided Friday morning classes at all costs, preferring to begin their weekend revels on Thursday nights. Lyle followed his feet. He imagined power emanating from the briefcase at his side, thrumming up his arm. He felt, for perhaps the first time in a life of shrinking uncertainty, boundless.
And it felt extraordinary.
Somewhere inside of him a notion was forming that he did not dare articulate. But he followed his feet. The easy ebb and flow of walk signals, the pleasantly cool night air, the passing chatter, even the occasional car-horn—which in the past had never failed to startle him, jittery as he was—seemed buoyant and agreeable. The night was his. He realized he was sloping gently downhill, as he followed his feet. He realized he knew exactly where he was going. He found himself before O’Flaherty’s Pub, with its sandwich-board blaring LADIES NIGHT 1/2 WELL DRINKS -- TRUST ME YOU CAN DANCE in electric pink loops. It felt only natural to step beneath the awning, swing wide the knotted mahogany door, and enter the din.
The ham-hock manning security—probably a redshirt lineman in his off-season—turned toward Lyle on autopilot, one hand reaching out as a question formed on his lips, lemme see some ID. Lyle made no attempt to reach for his wallet because he knew the inevitable would happen when the bouncer took in his face, which he did a half second later. A tiny beat of recognition flickered and was gone, and the bouncer turned away. No need to card the old dude. Good luck navigating the vicissitudes of adult life, you Mongoloid, Lyle thought. The jag off had a Black & Mild tucked up behind one ear, Lyle felt an insane urge to snatch it off his head and break it in half. He did not do well with the pretend authority of chunky, dead-eyed adolescents.
But I’m not here for him.
Lyle wove his way into the evening crush with the delicate, shuffling little steps he always used in crowds. By fits and starts he made his way deeper, deeper, winding toward the back bar, the one with the full-length mirror. That was her favorite. O’Flaherty’s had a Crosley jukebox, wood-paneled and coin-operated, reaching for vintage but stuffed to the gills with Bluetooth and wi-fi and digital memory and whatever else. A woman’s voice was booming out of it, an empty pop ballad gussied up by her big, operatic sound. Lyle tried to think of the singer’s name, but couldn’t. He squeezed into a narrow gap at the back bar.
Darby was flirting as she mixed a rum-and-coke for a gawky, dough-faced kid in a flat-cap and a Harrington jacket. On the few occasions he had come out on Darby missions, Lyle had stayed well back from the bar, waiting for drink service at one of the small cafe tables lining the billiard room. But tonight, he wasn’t here to watch.
Darby handed off the drink and caught sight of Lyle. He winced—he could read the surprise, even discomfort, on her face. But she was tending bar, and she was quick on her feet, and she rearranged her expression into a smile. She held up a finger—*one sec—*to which Lyle nodded, as she took flat-cap’s (father’s) Amex back to the register and opened up a tab.
Lyle enjoyed watching her walk. Enjoyed looking at her from the back, or in profile. He usually saw her face, in class, big brown doe eyes and very pale, freckled skin. A shade away from clear, he had heard her joke once, to James, as she had invited him to touch the roadmap of blue veins on her inner arm. That had enraged Lyle—the sudden, unwelcome image of James with those long creamy legs locked over his waist, his long, slow thrusts.
Because he restrained himself from ogling her in class, it was a pleasure to come to O’Flaherty’s during her shifts and watch her as she worked. Darby was not the first of what Lyle thought of as his “favorites”. Every year or two there was a fresh, irresistible young thing, for him to think about, alone, late at night. One of the unspoken perks of professordom was the constant influx of eye-candy, of short skirts and long legs and high asses and pert young tits. In his mind’s eye it was an endless profusion of imagined aureoles, of wondering about their panties—boy-briefs or frilly little whatsits or g-strings or none at all—and even if Lyle never slept with them there was an intense eroticism in holding power over these girls he could never have bedded in his own college years. In pushing that term paper over the failing line and waiting, deliciously waiting, for them to come to his office hour and plead. Only Darby’s work was reasonably competent, so even that grimy thrill was denied him.
Darby finished up with the register and came over, the pale of her neck stark against her tight black t-shirt. O’FLAHERTY’S was printed on it in green, the name stretched to accommodate her bust. Her hair frazzled at the temples; she’d been working hard.
Just a little dirty, that’s how I like you, he thought.
“Dr. L! We missed you today, thought maybe you caught the gunk. You all right?” Darby beamed her big smile at him, a gift of the gods (and of immaculate orthodontics).
“I’m fine, Darby, thanks. Just a communication mix-up. I’m sorry you all waited.”
She kept smiling, seemed to be waiting for more. He didn’t give it to her.
“Well—can I get you anything?”
Lyle hesitated, trying to think of a manly drink, something urbane and—professorial.
“Scotch-rocks. A double.”
Darby continued to stare at him, expectantly. “Any… particular poison, or-?”
Lyle glanced up, made a show of studying the bottles arrayed behind her. He knew nothing about scotch. Stupid. He settled on Johnnie Walker Black, and Darby poured his drink.
Lyle realized his heart was racing. Darby set the drink in front of him and he downed half of it in one swallow. He managed to keep his face neutral as the liquor seared his throat.
“This is a—little bit of a departure, for you, huh?” Darby indicated the scotch.
“What?”
She must have known he heard her but she raised her voice anyway. The music had changed to a British pop group with a lot of electronic undertones, trying to sound haunting.
“The scotch,” she said. “Don’t you always order lemon drop martinis? When you come in?”
Busted. Two bright red circles appeared high on his cheeks.
“You know, it, it depends,” he replied. “Depends on my mood. And you—you make a hell of a lemon drop martini, here.”
Fucking idiot, he thought. They make the same Goddamn lemon drop martini as everybody else and she knows it.
Darby was smooth, though. Graceful. She rolled right past it. “I wondered why you never came over and said hi.”
“Well I don’t want to, you know, be a bother. You’re working. It’s always busy. And I’ve been coming here for years, off and on. You get used to seeing students out on the town. I try to give them their space.”
“Oh.” Her smile reappeared. “Well I’m glad you came over. Let me know if I can get you anything else?” She was already angling away.
“How was class today?” Lyle didn’t want to let her go. She glanced down the bar, she had customers waiting.
“It was great, really great,” she hurried her answer. She was giving him the brush-off. “James did great. He’s an awesome teacher. Awesome guy.”
“You know, I’d been meaning to ask you, about James…” Lyle leaned in, conspiratorially. Darby’s smile was faltering, but courtesy won out and she leaned in to hear.
“Are you fucking him?”
Darby recoiled, as though he had spit on her.
“What?”
“Do you laugh at me, when you do it? When you fuck, do you laugh at the scabby, horn-dog professor?”
Darby’s breath hitched in her chest, she looked like she was about to cry. She took a step back. She looked down the bar, and then past him—toward the door.
Bouncer, he thought. She’s looking for the bouncer.
“I think you need to—” she began.
Then Lyle said the Word. The alien Word, meant to be moaned, easy as pie, really, when you thought about it, how the sounds flowed together. The Word that meant libido.
Darby froze. Her pupils flickered, Lyle saw, they constricted down to pinpricks, and then dilated as wide as they could go, swallowing the puppy-dog brown of her irises. Her face went slack. That wide, expensive smile vanished, and her mouth hung slightly open.
“Moisten your lips, Darby,” he said.
Her tongue slid out, pink and supple, and she obeyed.
Oh, my God, she OBEYED.
Lyle’s penis twitched in his pants, he realized he was painfully erect, his balls aching. He realized he had been, had been since—since I said the Word—since he had her and a cruel, savage sense of triumph shook him, he felt his pulse hammering in his veins, he felt like standing up on the bar and—
ROARING I want to ROAR at this dewy twat and all her imbecilic peers—
But instead, he took his cock firmly in his hand, through the cheap fabric of his Ross trousers, squeezed himself, and said—
“What are we going to do with you, Darby?”
#
Lyle fucked her in the alleyway behind O’Flaherty’s. That meant hurrying more than he liked, the dumpster provided cover but the blocks surrounding the campus were too well policed. It was all right, though. Now that he was armed with the libido-Word, the next time could be more leisurely.
He took her in. All of her. The small, surprisingly dark nipples, nothing like he’d imagined. The fine, black hairs on the nape of her neck, the peach fuzz of her freckled low back, her inner thighs. Her panties were white briefs with green stitching, they were covered with tiny frogs. He tugged them down, and nuzzled her there. He left hickeys, on her ass, her mons. Her smooth, exquisite young cunt.
Lyle took her from behind and saw the groggy confusion in her dilated eyes, the amazement*—*and through that the pleasure, the unsuspected, unwanted, violating pleasure that jolted moans out of her.
Lyle sucked her neck, bit it, hard enough to sting. She gave a tiny mewl as she came, and her spasm triggered him also. Lyle buried himself to the hilt in her, finished in her, and felt—
Like a king. Like a GOD.
They stayed there as the minutes stretched out, panting, still joined. He savored her, until his own tumescence vanished, and he slipped out. Lyle patted her derriere.
“Get dressed and get back to work, Darby,” he said. “We don’t want you to get in trouble.”
She jerked her head, drunkenly, from side to side, as though she were trying to shake water out of her ears. Lyle breathed deep, in through his nose, the fine scents of the city. Fried food nearby, probably the Thai joint catty-corner to the pub. He stood and admired, as Darby tugged her frog-panties back up those long pale legs.
“I’ll see you in class.”
Darby stared blankly at him as he took up his suitcase, turned, and strode into the night.
#
When Lyle opened his eyes the next morning, he was only mildly surprised to discover that he felt no guilt at all. The sun streamed in, the world was up and running, coffee was calling, and by God he felt fine.
He sat up in bed, stretched. He glanced at the alarm clock, that hateful sentinel, now toothless—10:27AM. The mattress was bare, beneath him. He’d never washed the sheets. Puddled on the floor were yesterday’s clothes. He resisted the urge to tidy them up. Later. He padded to the bathroom and went about his ablutions, brushed his teeth, took out his shaving kit. He had used the sleep-Word on himself again, last night. After.
After! He let the memories wash over him. Her smell: the tang of sweat, bar-odors, the undercurrent of peach soap. The taste of her! And then the feast, afterward. He had followed his nose to Great Elephant Thai, wolfed down a plate of kai thot, fried to a crisp and dripping oil*.* It may have been the finest meal of his life.
And he had had such dreams! Dreams of Darby, and of favorites past. Dreams of fucking and of wealth and of slights avenged and of respectful, deferential looks, dreams of voices falling silent when he entered a room, of every eye on him. A song lyric drifted into his head, something from his childhood, a favorite of his father’s one long summer, repeated ad nauseam on the fourteen-hour drive down to Savannah.
“Twenty years a’crawlin’… were bottled up in Tommy… he wasn’t holding nothin’ back, he let ‘em have it all…” Lyle sang, full voice, into the morning. A stupid grin spread over his face, as he wicked away the last patch of Barbasol, the careful spot right over his Adam’s apple, and rinsed his razor. He took a long look at Mirror-Lyle, looked into his eyes. He almost always avoided a close examination of his reflection, force of habit, but today he was a new man, and he wanted to take that man’s measure.
“Everyone… considered him… THE COWARD OOOF… the COUNTYYYY…”
Something else surfaced, then, in his memory, something that cranked the wattage down on his smile. He didn’t get all of it, just a glimpse, like a dorsal fin rising above the water. He had dreamed of more than power and sex. There had been something else. Lyle had a vague red recollection of tangled depths and faceless figures. His mind offered up a fleeting image of a crumbling stone structure, of keening wind and squat pillars; and of a great broken vault overhead, through which could be seen a blasted sky.
Lyle charged his phone as he brewed up a fresh pot. It had run out of juice somewhere during yesterday’s festivities, and when it finally powered up again it began to vibrate against the Formica tabletop in his dining nook. He ignored the first two pulses, but the phone insistently continued, not with the regular rhythm of an incoming call, but rather the inconsistent bursts of message notifications trickling in from the cloud. He tapped the touchscreen, and saw he had seven missed calls: one from a colleague, yesterday; and six from James, each one with a voicemail attached. The most recent of these had come just twenty minutes ago.
Lyle sipped on his coffee as he retrieved the briefcase from beneath his bed. He sat at his dinette and removed the fascicle, easily finding the rigid page. He opened it, and this time the new Word was waiting for him below the first, long entry: the entry corresponding to the letter “A” itself. This Word was angry, Ks and Zs, a hornet-word, serpent-word. Lyle looked to the white space, where the definition would arise. He pricked his forefinger with the tip of a steak knife and squeezed out two droplets of blood.
der zorn
Lyle sipped. Lyle thought. Greek, then Latin, now German. Was it moving forward in time? He wondered again about those first shapes he had seen, in the library. The more he tried to remember the more he doubted they had been in Greek. Something older, maybe. Phoenician syllabary? He would likely never know. But the Words were changing. The book was changing.
And there was this: both of the—*spells, they’re spells, let’s cut the shit—*both of the Words it had given him so far had been…
“Intuitive,” he said finally. “Useful. Like it knew.”
Lyle took down the last foil sleeve of blueberry Pop Tarts from his cupboard. Pauper’s breakfast, he thought, but not for much longer. He searched through his contacts until he found the number for the Chancellor’s office. He thumbed the little blue phone icon beside it.
#
Lyle had just started boxing up his things when James burst into his office, perfectly symmetrical face distorted by fury, his generous features made ugly. Ah, the righteousness of youth. James took in the dense sheaf of Staples boxes, waiting to be folded; took in the bare walls, the stacked diplomas and photographs.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded.
“Emergency leave,” Lyle answered with a dismissive wave. “I’ve had a family crisis. I’m afraid I have to attend to it. Professor Chole will be taking over my workload for the remainder of the semester, I’m sure she’ll be in touch—"
“What did you do to Darby? What the fuck did you do?” James spoke with the husky, quaking tone of pure adrenaline. He was just barely restraining himself from lunging across the desk, Lyle realized. He took the younger man in with bemused calm. He let the moment stretch out.
“Therese called me,” James continued, the words throttling out of him. “Darby’s roommate. She came home last night, she has—bruises, all over her, little, little *bites—*she won’t speak, she just sits there and cries, but she said your name. It’s the only thing she said. What did you do to her, Lyle? Did you rape her?”
“Dr. Hereford,” Lyle replied.
James craned forward. “What?”
*“*You don’t get to call me Lyle.”
Lower, now, almost a whisper: “Tell me what you did to her.”
“I made her come,” Lyle said. “And she fucking loved it.”
James did lunge then, he screamed and he leapt across the desk, coming down on Lyle in a tangle of thrashing limbs and rabbit punches, the two of them toppling Lyle’s chair, compressing awkwardly into the tight space between desk and wall. James kicked hard off of the gray metal drawers, managing to end up on top. His hands found Lyle’s throat and began to squeeze. Lyle felt himself constricting, felt the energy draining out of him, pinned, as he lost oxygen. He noticed the curds of spittle at the corners of James’s snarling mouth. He started to see spots in the periphery of his vision, and as he slapped ineffectually at James’s face he thought am I going to die here—?
Lyle dug down for the last of his strength. The Word chose me. This wasn’t the end. Couldn’t be the end. He extended his leg as far as it would go, and used the distance to drive his knee, hard, into James’s crotch. A grunting exhale was propelled out of the younger man*.* Lyle pulled back to do it again; James squeezed his thighs together to block, and when he did, he compromised his balance. He took one hand off Lyle’s throat and thrust out his arm to catch himself as be began to roll, allowing Lyle to draw in a long, ragged breath.
Then Lyle spoke the Word.
The der zorn-Word.
The word that meant anger, that meant rage, that meant WRATH.
#
“Son. Son, you’re bleeding, let me—let me help you, come on. Son, it’s gonna be okay, come on, now— “
The campus policeman approaches James like a dog that might be rabid, that slow hunched posture with arms wide, except for the policeman it’s only one arm because his right hand is flush up against his service weapon and his thumb snaps the little thumbsnap and it’s a very small noise but it’s so loud in James’s head and he shakes it, his head, does James, from side to side, in herks and jerks, like a dog that might be rabid, now, like there’s water in his ears and he’s trying to shake it out, is James, and the policeman is coming on and speaking in clear precise syllables that explode behind James’s temples, clusterbomb-words, and the cop is speaking but he’s hearing another voice, is James, and it’s Lyle’s voice, it’s Dr. L’s voice, not Lyle never Lyle, and Dr. L’s voice is saying snakebit you’re snakebit she fucking LOVED it and James touches his own face now and it must be true because there’s blood on his face and when he blinks his blink is heavy and liquid like he just dropped Visine in there but the thing is but only but except it’s blood and he’s bleeding from the eyes, is James, and now the policeman is right on top of him saying “son what happened can you hear me respond if you can hear me” and James hears the exploding words all right and he blinks and blood oozes from the corners of his eyes and the cop is changing now, in the blood, his face is BOILING and now it’s Darby’s face on the policeman and she opens her mouth and her head cranes back and she’s ruined inside OH FUCK SHE’S RUINED INSIDE SHOT HERSELF SHE SHOT HERSELF SHE’S SHOT and now it’s DR L IT’S DR L SCREAMING SNAKEBIT SNAKEBIT SNAKEBIT—
James rears back and head-butts the campus cop as hard as he can, the smooth acne-less center of James’s forehead connecting with the soft cartilage of the policeman’s nose. A sick crunch echoes in the lobby of the Humanities building, a young woman close enough to hear it vomits on the floor, it is the first puking incident of the day but not the last.
The cop recoils with a sick moan, in his surprise clapping his hands to his shattered nose; in that moment James bellows, an awful inarticulate animal sound of hate, and yanks the policeman’s service piece free of his holster.
The handful of rubbernecking students freeze as James shoots the policeman in the face.
The policeman’s name is (was) Lou, the students know, and he is (was) genial and well-liked. A silent second passes in the lobby, and then the screaming begins.
James dips down and pulls two spare clips out of Lou’s belt. He pockets them. When James looks up, he doesn’t see fleeing students.
He sees Dr. L.
A gaggle of Dr. L’s. A school, a clutch, a murder. He sees laughing Dr. L’s running in every direction, diving behind furniture, breaking for the street or hurtling into the stairwells. One Dr. L dives behind the reception desk. James starts after him on wooden legs.
When he reaches the desk, there is Dr. L beneath it, a cell phone in his hand, cackling. James shoots him in the stomach. Dr. L keeps right on laughing, howling with it now, whatever it is must be hilarious, a real knee-slapper, then James remembers its him, Dr. L is laughing at him so James shoots him again, shoots him so he’ll stop but there are so many more—
#
Lyle Hereford, Ph.D., rested his browning forearms on the wrought iron railing of his third-floor balcony. He looked out over the Gulf of Mexico. The breeze was warm and gentle, suffusing, but it no longer calmed him. He took no notice of it. He was lost, as he was always now lost, in thought.
The one, lone thought.
It had taken a little less than two weeks for James’s horrific shooting spree to drop out of the news. The demands for GUN CONTROL NOW (or, conversely, for guns in every classroom) receded and were shelved for the next go-round. Politicians took to the field and unfurled their heraldry for the usual pro-forma skirmishes. Then, mercifully, a Cabinet official fucked somebody he really shouldn’t have and the national discourse (such as it was) barreled off, like a dog chasing a ball that its owner had only pretended to throw. As to why a handsome, popular, well-adjusted student should suddenly snap and murder sixteen of his fellows? The theories ranged from medically reasonable (an inoperable tumor which could not be verified via autopsy, as James’s brains had been removed by the responding tactical unit); to the paranoiac (James had been the subject of a Manchurian Candidate-style CIA/NSA/Acronym-of-your-choice experiment gone horribly wrong); to the Occult (the Devil made him do it).
Lyle had enjoyed that last one.
What Lyle had not enjoyed was that some of the conspiracy theorists, and even some of the legitimate press, had mentioned him by name. He had disappeared, after all, on an auspicious and chaotic day, to manage a crisis no one could verify involving a family no one could find. It had not been difficult to remain ahead of any enterprising investigators, though. Not with the Words.
And there had been so many more Words. Words in French and Finnish and Russian and Spanish and Mandarin. Words that meant envy and silence and fear and blindness and, perhaps the most potent yet, a Word that meant stupid. Lyle had employed that one against a statie who pulled him over as he crossed the Louisiana line, coming through Vicksburg. The guy had been six-two, maybe two-twenty, with sharp, curious eyes sunk deep in his skull. Lyle hadn’t liked the way he had looked at him, so he used the Word. Now the statie—*Edmonds was his name, Trooper Edmonds—*was six-two, two-twenty of drooling simpleton, probably staring at a wall somewhere in the nearest brain injury ward and driving the resident neurologists absolutely bugshit.
By the time Lyle made it to a quiet, lazy town on the Cajun Riviera and decided to set a spell, he had traded in his Acura for a Beemer and was carrying close to a hundred and twelve thousand dollars in cash. He had also acquired a 9mm Ruger and a shotgun with a pistol grip (the dealer had called it a snake charmer just before Lyle killed him).
None of that matters now, though.
All that mattered was the Word. Which, he had come to realize, was the last Word.
Because the book was alive, of course, had always been alive, Lyle knew that. Hadn’t let himself come right out and say it, but he knew. It had slept, maybe, possibly, until he woke it, with his touch, with his blood, but if it slept, it woke up thirsty*.* The book was always ready with the next Word, the next thing he would need. The book was collaborating with him. It was dancing with him, and at first he had thought he was the one leading, but now he knew better.
Lyle felt it. Felt it—pulling on him. All the time. Felt it in the room behind him, pulling, knew that he would go back in, sooner or later, go back in, and open the book, the book that has been leading him. Knew that he would open its hundreds of pages, because it was longer now, because it had grown, because it was three inches thick and the front plating had vanished and it wasn’t pretending to be a dictionary anymore.
He knew that he would open it and on every single page, centered, would be a single Word, the last Word, the Word that he will say, that he must say, sooner or later, and under it swirling in blood, blood that must be the book’s own, the final explication, the final command, the final meaning, and God, oh God, Lyle was afraid, because the last Word was
DOOR

To keep it short -- I am from the Chicago area but my family has roots in DE. I have never lived in DE and have only visited a couple of times. A few years ago my parents retired and relocated to Elsmere to be closer to my grandmother who was in an assisted living facility there. Since then it's been nonstop tragedy – grandma passed, and then my father died tragically, and then my mother who is type 2 diabetic had a horrible stroke and heart attack. She mostly relies on friends and neighbors to check up on her but we are working on getting her in-home care as well.
In the meantime, I can no longer live with myself being so far away and have decided to relocate to Wilmington. My mother refuses to let me live with her as she says it's too much of a loss of independence and I want to respect that. I love Philly but I want to be as close as possible so that I can be within a ~15 minute drive of mom. So I am looking to rent in Wilmington, hopefully no later than by the end of June. But I have a few questions.
​

• Rent. I'm looking for basic one-bedrooms, nothing too fancy, and not in the hood. I do not make a huge amount of money ($60k/yr) and have student loans so am on a fairly tight budget. But I'm seeing prices starting at $1,800-1,900 which seems so incredibly inflated??? Is it just a seasonal thing or am I going to have to get roommates at 30 years old? For contrast, I have a great 800 square foot 1br in Chicago that I pay $1550/month for which is already a stretch for me.
• Car culture/public transportation. I have early onset glaucoma and while I'm still cleared to drive, I prefer not to drive long distances or at night. Driving in heavy traffic can also be very challenging for me because of glare, reflections, etc so I like to avoid it when possible. I work remotely so will not have to commute but is daily life doable in Wilmington without a car?
• Entertainment/night life. Are there many options? I love checking out different scenes in different neighborhoods in Chicago but not sure to what extent there are different centers of nightlife in Wilmington. I also love checking out different cultural events, street markets, food truck festivals etc. Is there any of that?
• Waterfront life. I know Wilmington has a big Riverfront, what is the crowd usually like? Does it trend younger or older? I ask because the Lakefront is a HUGE aspect of life in Chicago
• Walkability. I know I won't be able to walk everywhere but it's important to me to at least have a pharmacy, grocery store, some good bars and restaurants, and maybe something like a Target within easy walking distance. Are there any hoods in Wilmington that fit that profile?
• Bikeability. What is the bike infrastructure like in Wilmington? Is it realistic to bike around for all daily errands? Are there any bike advocacy organizations (like Active Transportation Alliance in Chicago)?
• LGBTQ life. I'm a gay male and not really that much into the "scene" but hoping to have a tolerant environment and a decent dating pool. Is the area accepting of LGTBQ+ folks?
• Arts & culture. I am absolutely fanatic about museums and art galleries and there is a neverending supply of them in Chicago. What is the arts scene like in Wilmington?

Overall I am trying to be flexible and adaptable and my mom comes first. But I'm really sad thinking about leaving Chicago behind and so any insights on life in Wilmington are hugely appreciated.

I have come across my fair share of carnists who ask me questions about me being vegan, how I survive, “but meat is so good!”, etc. but today I had my first severely negative interaction with a non-vegan. A coworker who I rarely have to interact with came to my office to drop off something and began small talk about an upcoming trip I have planned with family. After discussing the details, they asked if I was excited for the food, as the trip I am going on is in an area that eats a LOT of meat (I wasn’t aware of this until today). I politely said “oh I’m very excited for the food! but i don’t eat animal products, so Ill just eat the vegan options!” (note: there are an equal amount of vegan options as non-vegan options so eating will not at all be a problem for me or my vegan partner). They then proceeded to act absolutely shocked that I am somehow alive without eating animal products and then began discussing why they eat meat, how they kill animals of all kinds from their country, and trying to convince me to try a meat truck in our area as “it will change you back to normal because it’s so delicious!”. After trying to be polite and move the conversation to a different topic, they continued to talk about how my country isn’t even “the worst” when it come to animal slaughterhouses, as where he is from they eat ANY animal and torture them in ways my country doesn’t. So therefore “it’s ethical to eat meat here” because our slaughterhouses torture the animals less (???). All in all, he gave me the names of many different restaurants that only serve meat and animal products, and then said “let me know what you think and I’ll see if you’ve changed!”. I was lowkey shaking and had 0 words to say to that. I am still at a loss for words, i answered all of his questions (eg. “no beeswax? why the bees don’t need it”, “what about protein?”, “you can’t eat dairy? it doesn’t hurt the cow”) but he STILL tried to talk me into eating animals after me constantly saying “no thanks I am vegan!!!! I literally will not eat any animal products!!!!!!”. I’ve never met someone so persistent and ignorant (not sure if this is the right word). Usually people just ask a question or two and never bring it up again. Wild.

Hi!
So, I've sent this idea to HBO a few months ago but I still haven't got any answers and I'm dying to know if it's good enough.
if you guys could help me out and give me a reply I would be very thankful !!
ps. I wrote it a long time ago and since I'm not a native speaker the english might not be so good.
Down the Rabbit- Hole
I went to the store this morning at basically,4 a.m. to receive some of the things Brian ordered for the stock. He asked if I was ok with it since it was the meat that wouuld arrive and I contradicted him saying I was fine. I guess I was just trying to train the not barfing routine.
- hi, are you the responsible around here ?
Alice: yes, pretty much. Good morning I’m the owner !
- ok, great I’m here to drop some steaks, chicken,pork..
It’s okay, it’s not for you, you’ll sooner have to learn how to cook these
- lamb,fish and these rabbits I killed yesterday
Alice: rabbits ?
- yes, there’s something wrong ?
Alice: I don’t remember asking for rabbits
- I think that was your husband ? isn’t he the actual owner ?
Alice: yes, but you can...can take the rabbit with you, I’m not paying for it
- what do you mean, you’re not paying for it ? I went in the middle of the night just to hunt these
Alice: well, I didn’t ask you to hunt them, you did it because you wante...
- I did it because my client asked me to, why are you even complaing if you’re not part of the business ? don’t you like rabbits ?
Alice: no, I don’t eat rabbits.
- why not ? it’s delicious !
Alice: do you think so ?
- yes,those are my favorite !
Alice: ok, then you can bring them inside. It happens you’re the only one around and I’m a helpless woman
- alright then, you should try one of these beasts sometime
Alice: uhum, just around here, you can just put them inside the freezer
- did you turn it on already ?
Alice: doing it
I think nervousism was the last thing that went through my mind that time. After turning it on and going straight to the kitchen, I made sure to hide it from him on the way back. He was a big guy, hunter aesthetic. Hard to kill, in a fighting mode at least. So I just waited for him to low down to pick up the fucking rabbit to deeply slither that sharp knife through his neck. No words, just blood. I didn’t even have a regret face after doing it. One thing to be said, he was just heavy. A dead weight,literally. Had to cut him in pieces on the ground.
After it, after turning every single particle he had into ready to pack meat, I brought the rest inside and made sure no one was going to miss that big burden. Found out he was just a cheap hunter, no wife, no kids. Basically a stranger in town. I drove his truck back to his house, and found my place to burn a big chunck of clothes and documents.
I don’t care what people may think, the supermarket opens this afternoon and people will be randomly selected between who eats big boy Jack and who eats the delicious cow.
*phone ringing
Call on
Alice: bello ?
Brian: hi, how is things up there ? everything alright ?
Alice: yeah, of course. I’m just hungry
Brian: you didn’t had any breakfast ?
Alice: not yet, no
Brian: ok, I think I can bring you some.
Alice: thanks,uhm. Brian, that guy you... hired, who is that ?
Brian: he was just inside the list I got, why is everything ok ? you, or maybe the delivery, did he mess up the delivery ?
Alice: no, no is just...he brought, he brought rabbits.
Brian: I’m so sorry, I forgot about that. You can just toss it away I think
Alice: it’s ok, I don’t mind it,Thanks, is everything ok in there ?
Brian:..my..mom is here
Alice: why ?
Brian: she’s waiting for you, asking why you haven’t done breakfast for me
Alice: well, tell her I’m busy
Brian: already taking refuge in the kitchen, I’m serious I should’ve received it today
Alice: believe me, you shouldn’t ( sighs) I’m coming.
Brian: ok,bye.
Alice: bye...
Call off
Alice: let’s hope you’re delicious. blurgh, disguting
Telling Karen I was at work was quite of a challenge. Telling Karen I’ve just killed a man was acceptable. It should mean that if I was able to kill him I can easily kill her. I swear to god that woman is everything wrong in america, and bold of you to think she even knows where that is.
Karen: finally, now could this be any more of an absurd ?
Alice: we’ve finally agreed on something!
Karen: I hope that means you won’t leave this house again,
Alice: I’m sorry I thought we were talking about your intrusions
Karen: intrusions ?! I was talking about you being a bad-mannered wife, this is my son’s house!
Alice: and mine as well
Karen: you don’t own anything !
Brian: this is so nice.
Alice: I remember someone saying of us sharing goods in our wedding day...am I contradicting the truth perhaps ?
Karen:... you are a bad person. And within these prospects you’ll become a bad mother. You ought to learn how to respect and love your husband so that you’ll do the same with your baby!
Brian: mom! That’s quite enough. You shouldn’t even be here.
Alice: love and respect only work in a relationship when they are reciprocate. And basically anywhere else. I respect your son in the same way I want to be respected. Could you please leave ? you‘re poluting the air.
Karen: brian.
Brian: mom, go.
Demon who walks on earth. Could you retire yourself from this house ?
Brian: I’m making breakfast. Help yourself with Eggs and toast, is the only thing i know how to do
Alice: I could teach you some things.
Brian: I have to say that’d be quite exciting!
After it all,I’m happy I married him, but still I don’t want to become all american! I’m better than that, we both are.
June, 18th was the day the supermarket opened, me and Brian woke up at severaly early ,even though he was the one going to open the place. I otherwise, woke up because of his mother...beloved woman. As a celebration of ‘him starting a business’ , her words, I’m supposed to prove myself ‘worthy’ of cooking with her techniques and recipes.....it really doesn’t make so much sense to me, but it’s a way of staying away from it for the morning, that really brought out some real sickness within me, in which was..misunderstood as a ‘promising pregnancy’.......so I couldn’t be luckier ! he’s still worried with it though,I’m worried I might’ve ruined our business before it even started.
I was ‘trained’ for chicken, fortunately, so to have his help on it we decided it’d be best for me to cook it at the supermarket kitchen, I at least made sure to pick it myself, being the only one there who knows how to differenciate it.
And believe me, it sold like wonder ! people from all around the city must’ve had their plans for lunch and their barbecues prepared this morning, the mother of the family goes with her children ot buy the groceries, within a fine piece of meat, steak or a dozen hamburguers and sausages made of whatever, I remenber those days clearly. I always the same thing the family sits around the big rectangle table with the dad at the end, the patriarch. The children play at the pool with a smile from side to side while their mother is inside preparing lunch and the outside table and their dad is cooking the sausages and burguers for the big thing. Starving wolves, really, waiting for the delicious meals to come to their mouths, they don’t even care it’s full of poison it’s a comfortable food for them, it brings out the felling that everything is going to be ok. Everything is going to end well, poor poeple they barely know they’ve put themselves inside a vicious cycle of wanting for more. The biggest, most infectious cycle. I know that if they like what they taste, they’ll grow used to it until there’s nothing left. It’s a true gain for us, they’ll fulfill our lives with money in exchange for more, but they won’t get it. They’ll starve for it and oblige me to go get it. Choose some other victim.
The lucky ones today,buying this delicious delight of meat, will become what I mostly fear. Cannibals. But, as you know, they’ll grow around it without even realizing. I otherwise won’t. I’ll become the mother, going out every night to get some food to feed the little monsters she created,only to protect those she loves so dearly.
It’s mostly not my fault you know ? americans are like that, they love what they can’t refuse. They’re starving already I’m just feeding them. The thing is, what I feared happened.
They didn’t like it.
They loved it.
the story goes around the starting of the 1950's btw.

Looking for a food truck to come to a private residence (farm in Middletown) to serve breakfast to roughly 40 people 6/11
Food truck would be ideal- also open to restaurants or catering company that has breakfast packages that can do drop off. Thanks!!!

California offers a diverse culinary scene, and there are several types of food that are popular among the Indian community in the state. Here are a few examples of foods loved by many Indians in California:
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Indian Street Food: Indian street food is highly appreciated by Indians in California. Favorites like samosas (deep-fried pastry filled with spiced potatoes or meat), chaat (a savory snack with a variety of flavors and textures), and pav bhaji (a spicy vegetable curry served with a buttered bun) are popular choices.
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Dosas: Dosas are thin, crispy pancakes made from fermented rice and lentil batter. They are often filled with various savory fillings like potato masala, paneer, or chutneys. Dosas are widely enjoyed by Indians in California, and restaurants specializing in South Indian cuisine often offer a wide variety of dosa options.
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Biryani: Biryani is a fragrant and flavorful rice dish cooked with aromatic spices, basmati rice, and meat (such as chicken, lamb, or shrimp) or vegetables. It is a beloved dish among Indians, and there are numerous places in California that serve delicious biryani.
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North Indian Curries: North Indian curries, such as butter chicken, chicken tikka masala, and palak paneer (spinach and cottage cheese curry), are widely enjoyed by Indians in California. These rich and flavorful curries, often accompanied by naan bread or rice, are popular choices when dining out.
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Indo-Chinese Cuisine: Indo-Chinese cuisine, a fusion of Indian and Chinese flavors, is quite popular among Indians in California. Dishes like chili paneer, veg manchurian, and hakka noodles combine Indian spices with Chinese cooking techniques, creating a unique and delicious culinary experience.
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These are just a few examples of the types of food that Indians in California often enjoy. However, it's important to note that food preferences can vary among individuals, and there is a wide range of regional Indian cuisines with their own specialties and flavors.