Nicknames: Blågult (The Blue and Yellow) WWC Appearances: 8 Best Finish: Runners-Up (2003) Fifa Ranking: 9
Introduction
World Cup regulars Sweden look to challenge the very best this year in France. 4 years on from a disappointing Round of 16 exit, the squad look far more experienced going into this tournament. Results since 2015 have been a mixed bag, eliminating the USA on their way to a Runners-Up finish at the Rio Olympics, losing to subsequent champions Holland at the second round of the Euros, and then having an excellent qualifying campaign that saw them finish 5 points ahead of rivals Denmark. Sweden should have no problems with Chile and Thailand if everything goes to plan, but it will be the clash against the US that will really test their mettle. Cause another upset for the Americans like they did in Rio and the Swedes will most likely have a much more favourable Round of 16 match up. After that? I wouldn't say a semi-final appearance is impossible. With teams on the continent like England, France, Netherlands and Spain beginning to emerge as serious contenders in the last few years, Sweden will need a strong performance to prove they are still amongst the sport's royalty.
Manager and Squad
Coach: Peter Gerhardsson Goalkeepers: Hedvig Lindahl, Jennifer Falk (Kopparbergs/Göteborg), Zećira Mušović ( Rosengård) Defenders: Jonna Andersson (Chelsea), Linda Sembrant (Montpellier), Hanna Glas (Paris Saint-Germain), Nilla Fischer (VfL Wolfsburg), Magdalena Eriksson (Chelsea), Amanda Ilestedt (Turbine Potsdam), Nathalie Björn (Rosengård) Midfielders: Lina Hurtig (Linköping), Kosovare Asllani (Linköping), Julia Roddar (Kopparbergs/Göteborg), Caroline Seger (Rosengård), Anna Anvegård (Växjö DFF), Elin Rubensson (Kopparbergs/Göteborg) Forwards: Madelen Janogy (Piteå), Sofia Jakobsson (Montpellier), Stina Blackstenius (Linkoping), Julia Zigiotti Olme (Kopparbergs/Göteborg), Fridolina Rolfö (Bayern Munich), Mimmi Larsson (Linköping), Olivia Schough (Djurgårdens IF)
Sofia Jakobsson An excellent goalscorer for Montpellier, Jakobsson is quick and creative. In Gerhardsson's system that favours wide play and quick transitions from the back to playmakers into the penalty box, she is an important part of the Swedish machine. Over a 100 caps at 29, she's consistently been an important part of the team, but missed the last Euros with injury. Caroline Seger A playmaker with physical prowess and the occasional goal in her, Seger has seen multiple semi-final and runner-up finishes at the World Cup, Euros, and Olympics in her 193-cap international career, and yet no winner's medal. At 34 this is possibly Sweden's captain's last chance at victory. Seger was a part of the stacked team at Lyon before turning to Rosengård, and is still an exceptional player. Hedvig Lindahl Sweden have arguably one of the best keepers of the century in Lindahl. After 4 excellent years at Chelsea she remains the top choice for the Blågult, even if there are younger and more athletic options. She excels at organizing her defence and is still a decent shot stopper. 3 years ago she blocked an Alex Morgan penalty, she will no doubt frustrated American strikers here too.
Points of Discussion
Getting the ball into the box won't be the problem, it will be scoring With players like Jakobsson and Seger, Sweden can be effective at playing forward, finding space out wide or in the penalty box effectively. However it's forwards have been less effective in getting the ball into the net. Jakobsson, Asslani, Blackstenius can't be wasteful, and players like Schough and Rolfö also need to deliver. Defensive flaws? A 2-1 defeat to Germany in April highlighted defensive issues with Sweden. Space between their high defensive line is vulnerable, and they may struggle to defend set pieces too.
Nicknames: Team USA, USWNT, The Stars And Stripes Women's World Cup Appearances: 8 Best Result: Champions (1991,1999 and 2015) FIFA Ranking: 1 Flag FA Logo
Introduction
The USA Women's Soccer Team are currently defending World Cup champions after destroying Japan 5-2 in the last finals. Dominant and evergreen they are hoping to retain the championship for the first time in their history. They have also never finished lower than third in the entire history of the Women's World Cup so they are a force to be reckoned with. With a straightforward group anything less than 9 points would be seen as a disappointment. They should reach the third place playoff but with either Germany or China alongside the hosts France to deal with and without the usage of Hope Solo they could falter for the first time but I would bet on them reaching the Semis.
Manager and Squad
Manager: Jill Ellis (USA) Goalkeepers: Alyssa Naeher (43 Caps, 0 Goals), Ashlyn Harris (21, 0) and Adrianna Franch (1,0) Defenders: Becky Sauerbrunn (155, 0), Kelley O'Hara (115, 2), Abby Dahlkemper (37, 0), Ali Krieger (99, 1), Tierna Davidson (19, 1), Crystal Dunn (83, 24) and Emily Sonnett (31, 0) Midfielders: Sam Mewis (47, 9), Morgan Brian (82, 6), Julie Ertz (79, 18), Lindsey Horan (66, 8), Rose Lavelle (24, 6) and Allie Long (42, 6) Forwards: Mallory Pugh (50, 15), Carli Lloyd (271, 107), Alex Morgan (160, 101), Jessica McDonald (7, 2), Megan Rapinoe (150, 44), Tobin Heath (147, 28) and Christian Press (113, 47)
POTENTIAL STARTING XI
(Taken from their last match against New Zealand) Naeher; O'Hara, Dahlkemper, Sauerbrunn, Dunn; Lavelle, Ertz, Horan; Heath, Morgan, Rapinoe.
Players to Watch
Carli Lloyd A legend of the women's game. Will be the main source of goals for the squad. Lindsey Horan Can do just about anything when it comes to attacking. Will make the assists and occasionally score some herself. Tobin Heath She is also an attacking dynamo for this squad. Will win games and change the tide of the game.
Points of Discussion
Was it wise bringing an old squad with them? With only 4 members of their squad 24 years or younger with a whopping 11/23 of them 30 years or older will they be able to keep up with the younger generation of footballers playing. Will they be able to even reach the semi finals? As previously mentioned if they win their group they will face either Germany or China and then France who are premier sides in the Women's International Games so will they be able to beat France or will they falter for the first time ever in the history of the Women's World Cup?
Chile’s women team is young but not that much anymore, created at the beginning of the 90s (the opposite to the men’s, who has existed since the early 1900s). In the almost 30 years since that start, it is only in recent times that it has grown to the point of becoming a known team for the average Chilean. Their first ever participation in a World Cup will surely increase that interest. Their best participation in the women’s Copa America was both at the very first edition where they participated (1991 in Argentina) and the last one (2018 in Chile), both times getting the second place. At clubs, Chilean women’s football has been more successful. After the creation of the First Division in 2008, Colo Colo, the biggest club, won a Libertadores in 2012 and reached the final in 2011, 2015 and 2017. A lot of strong players have been bought from European and North American clubs, the best of all of them being Christiane Endler, goalkeeper of PSG and captain of the national team. Chile’s first participation in a World Cup will be a hard task. They will face the United States, Sweden and Thailand. In the Copa America they defeated Argentina, Peru and Uruguay, traditional rivals of the men’s team, with very good performances, but couldn’t do the same with Colombia and lost against Brazil. It is expected that Sweden and the United States will be rivals as strong as the Brazillians, if not more.
Manager and Squad
Coach: Jose Letelier GOALKEEPERS Christiane Endler - PSG Féminines (FRA) Natalia Campos - Universidad Católica (CHI) Ryan Torrero - Free agent. DEFENDERS Rocío Soto - Zaragoza CFF (ESP) Su Helen Galaz -Zaragoza CFF (ESP) Camila Sáez - Rayo Vallecano (ESP) Carla Guerrero - Rayo Vallecano (ESP) Javiera Toro - Santiago Morning (CHI) Valentina Díaz - Colo Colo (CHI) MIDFIELDERS Karen Araya - Sevilla FC (ESP) Claudia Soto - Santos (BRA) Francisca Lara - Sevilla FC (ESP) Ana Gutiérrez - CFF Cáceres (ESP) Yessenia López - Colo Colo (CHI) Elisa Durán - Colo Colo (CHI) Daniela Pardo - Santiago Morning (CHI) FORWARDS Yanara Aedo - Valencia CF (ESP) Yessenia Huenteo - CFF Cáceres (ESP) María Jose Rojas - Slavia Pragha (CZE) María José Urrutia - Associaçião Esportiva 3B Amazónia (BRA) Rosario Balmaceda - Colo Colo (CHI) Daniela Zamora - Universidad de Chile (CHI) Javiera Grez - Curico Unido (CHI)
Players to Watch
Christiane Endler The captain and best player of the team. Started in a small club but was quickly scouted by Colo Colo, team with which she became a hero winning the Libertadores final in penalties, where she stopped two. Was bought by Chelsea Ladies but at the end of her first season was diagnosed with a meniscus injury, so she came back to Chile to heal. After another season with Colo Colo she was bought by Valencia, becoming the best keeper of La Liga in her first season. After winning the Zamora Trophy, she was bought by PSG, being again chosen the best keeper of the Ligue 1 in the 18/19 season. With those credentials she comes to the Copa America. Carla Guerrero Experienced central defender who served until 2017 in Colo Colo. She is the player with the most titles in Chile, as she won 12 trophies with Colo Colo jersey and one with Everton (the Chilean one). In 2010, she first arrived to Colo Colo and played in that club uninterruptedly until 2018, year when she was transferred to Colombian champion Independiente Santa Fe. It was champion of the Copa Libertadores de América 2012 and also has the second place medals of 2011, 2015 and 2017. Last year she was bought by Rayo Vallecano, playing in La Liga. However, she suffered an ACL injury some months ago, injury that almost forced her to miss the World Cup. But she will play! Francisca Lara The 28 years-old is a multifunctional player who can play as a defender, midfielder and forward on the left flank. With 20 goals, she is the Chilean national team's all-time leading scorer. She won the 2012 Libertadores Cup and 10 titles with Colo Colo. Shs played last year as a starter at Sporting Huelva in Spain, before being sold to Sevilla this last season, where she's been known for her goalscoring ability. María José Rojas She is the most experienced Chilean when it comes top lay abroad. She’s a very fast forward on the right wing. She is the second highest scorer of the female "Reds", where she participates since the Guadalajara 2011 Pan American Games. She was the first Chilean woman to play in the Frauen Bundesliga, in Herforder SV. Playing for the UTSA Roadrunners, she scored the 2010 Southland Conference title goal in the fourth injury minute of her team's 1-0 win over Louisiana. She is also the first national to play in the Champions League, defending Lithuania's Gintra in 2017. With her move to Japan's Orca Kamogawa FC, she became the first Chilean to play in that country. Last year she played in Czechia’s Slava Praga.
Points of Discussion
Ball possession Due to Chile's small size, winning headers and physical game play isn't their strong suit. The coach has them make up for it by playing quick passes and controlling large chunks of possession throughout the game. Being able to control the flow of the game will be important if Chile are to win any games in a group with Sweden and USA, two of the best teams in the world.
WWC Appearances: 2 Best Finish: Group Stages (2015) Fifa Ranking: 34
Introduction
A second berth to the FIFA Women's World Cup was earned after a hard fought semi-finals finish at the AFC Women's Asia Cup. They went down to the wire and lost out to Australia on penalties. Good signs of improvement by the squad since 2015 and could potentially see themselves out of the group if they manage a win versus Chile and a draw versus one of the bigger teams.
Kanjana Sungngoen Her consistent goal scoring is the reason Thailand have qualified for the last two world cups. She's a key weapon and is both fast and experienced.
Points of Discussion
Same team different World Cup The Thais are the smallest team in the tournament and may suffer lots of problems against Sweden and USA's size. One thing they have going for them is that the team is essentially the same one that qualified for 2015. Almost a decade of the same players playing together is only a good thing for the Thai ladies. Realistic aims Thailand had two losses and a win in their first World Cup in Canada. And once again just being in the tournament is a success for the Thais. Getting past the groups isn't impossible, but improbable. Safe to say it would be miraculous if they get results against either of Sweden or the USA.
Is that title click bait? Lol. “sweaty bankers” “bankers don’t sweat, wiss.” hahahaa. Sure. That’s why your best hotel has bullet proof windows, I’m sure. I saw that. Wtf. Can't tell me that’s just a reflection of openly visiting preferences. Don’t get me wrong, that’s great. Can’t get enough, really. That doesn’t mean you don’t sweat, tho, does it. Who, on the top of any particular system doesn’t have to spend 98% of their available resources on fending off retards. Makes you think we should get together and save, doesn’t it. “we do”. No you don’t. Otherwise I’d have the resources to produce what I am capable of in every potential way, wouldn’t I. What a test of your prejudistic crap, eh? How humble must a banker be, to be in receipt of the grail of everlasting business viability. If you are the sort of information tripper who approaches my work with a splendid drink in one hand and a serious eye in the other, please zone out for a minute, while I below. This is a bit of all sorts of stuff. You will have to sort through it yourself, because I have better things to do. Yeah I know certain people don’t care, they are quite fine with doing that... but some people are not, it would seem. Well there we have a selection criteria. It’s not what you would expect, necessarily, and no, it’s not on me to pretty my work up for your digestion tastes. I literally have better things to do, from which YOU will benefit more greatly. You seem to doubt my adding up ability when it comes to my proper place and priorities, but I am correct. According to priority protocols, here, my correct choice is to leave it up to you. This means that the selection criteria is upon you, here. If you don’t want to, there’s the door. “But who the fuck made YOU queen of the fucking sit?” lol. A: you, at the level where you understand me. If you aren’t in contact with that part of yourself, that is your problem, especially since that bit of you will anchor you to a part of the multiversal manifold in which we live, and if you don’t go get it and move together with it, it will rip you in two, because it isn’t going anywhere, and no matter how much you insist, the maths of creation will not allow the rest of you to go anywhere, either. So whatever. Either understand the level I’m talking to you at, the one where I have been specialised to operate, or fuck off, and keep playing fuckwits with your psyche. I’m created for this. Too bad if you don’t like how creation decided to give it to you. If that’s the case then not only are you an ungrateful shit but we’re better off without you. Capisci? Right then. On with the show. [fucking retards everywhere, I tell you.] I started writing this in response to this post: Notes on my Music I started piano lessons at 5, did a few grades, was in the process of mastering Bach T & F last time I touched a piano, which was many years ago. I miss it, always have, but I can't afford one. Mum said she heard me repeatedly playing The Funeral March on my toy piano when I was 3. My Grandma bought me an organ when I was 5 and I had lessons. I hated them but I suppose I learned to enjoy it eventually. First song I composed in grade six, would have been 11. It was another C minor russian sounding contraption. I remember learning to sing when I was about 11 or 12, by imitating people on the radio. I think that getting a child into music at around the age I did, is really important for brain development. it played a large part in enabling me to perceive the world as I do. Oh and while we're here, my mum gave me maths lessons, personally, from age 3 upwards. Because that's all she could do. She was good at maths but she couldn't read or write. She was dyslexic. When I was in Kindergarten, she asked my teacher to teach her to read and write, privately. I think it did pay off. I received a scholarship to a private school based on my maths ability, when I was 10. My interest waned, however, because no one really took an interesting in keeping my interest in the subject stoked, and previously, I actually did get that, from my primary school. I had quite a pronounced language ability too, and was reading at 3. When I was in year 8, I was placed into year 10 Physics and Literature classes, but my mum died during that class, and I was so effected that I almost failed it (physics). I did, however, win the class competition to build a small car from lego with enough torque to get it up a steep incline. Lol. Omniverse took advantage of that little ability of mine, didn’t it. I would generally still win maths awards each year, but I was by no means the best at my school. I did well in year 12, getting 98.1 for my University application rank, which isn’t shabby. I also took a shine to school musicals. I performed at our brother school, because their music production wasn’t fucking gay, like it was at my school [yeah, sorry it wasn't gay enough perhaps]. The producer at the brother school was a very skilled creative jew, and he was fucking awesome, and very talented. We did Anything Goes [I was Reno lol]. My school did The Sound of Music. It bored you to death from 50 paces. I was always a bit of a rebel and I didn’t like being told what to do [but for teachers who managed to respect me, I went the extra mile]. I was always polarising too, in that teachers either loved me or hated me. I remember in grade 6 I was up for some kind of honour roll award and there was this one teacher who hated my guts who blocked it... and the other teachers who liked me told me about it. So thanks for that Mrs K. Nice moral compass you had there.* I suppose I was a bit of a shit stirrer, but on the whole I think I just had this instinct for balance, in that if some box was getting too tight or a polarity over repped, I did the opposite to re establish freedom. Some people appreciated that and others didn’t. *I do admit that sport was never my high point, but I managed to get teacher supported dibs on first base position in softball, that year, because I had decent hand eye coordination. But that wasn't enough, apparently. I wasn't a bad swimmer, either, and did gymnastics for a few years. My party trick for years was being able to put both my feet behind my head at the same time. Not as great as it sounds unless you get someone to hold you while you do it, because you fall on your face. I waited until after y12 to start expanding my mind into rather more esoteric fields. Well I started as soon as fucking possible actually, because while studying for y12 exams, I used to get really stoned and read advanced chemistry books under the hood of study. It didn’t seem to hurt, I still got an A+. I really wanted to go do Science at Melbourne University, maybe major in Astronomy. Science, Science/Arts at Melb Uni were my top listed choices. However, on the application you could list 10 choices in order of preference. So I did. Now, in year 11, I got some award for being one of the best in the state at Chemistry. I mean yay, I liked it, but I didn’t want to specialise in it. But, when I received my acceptance for university, I was accepted into my number 5 choice, not 1-4, even though my score was way high enough to get me accepted into my number 1 choice. And the course? Applied Chemistry at RMIT. And you know what I think? They somehow paid the governing body to head hunt whoever they wanted first, regardless of what the student had put as preference. I turned up and endured a few classes before I dropped out. The next year I applied for Science at Melb uni again, and got in this time. Wtf was that all about you fucking interfering fucks. However, by this stage I was somewhat out of the zone, and already way into esoterics. I also lived a long way from Uni, and it took over an hour to get in there. Sometimes I drove, but often took the train. How can you get involved with the social drinking culture otherwise? I was also catching up on my classes with the opposite sex, which I had thankfully neglected throughout highschool. I lasted about 6 months before I became completely devoted to esoterics instead. Already, at that stage, my insights weren’t going down too well in my Philosophy and History of Astronomy classes. I was exceptional at esoterics. Not that there’s any governing assessment board or anything to confirm that. lol. I sat in a mediumship circle for 3-4 years, which gave me a nice friendly grounded environment to speak of things on a weekly basis. My teacher was really grounded, very good at making things apply in the real world. This was my place to stay in touch with others, but in my studies, I took it out into extension as far as I could find the material to do so. Crystals were my mainstay. Oh god I loved those things. Channelling too. But as I have related before, I was never one for vacating the premises. Whenever I had some communication going on I stayed put, owning my space. Visitors were visitors. After approx 5 years, I was top of the pack. No I can’t prove it, but I know it. Then at 23, the Omniversal Alchemist head hunted me too. I was placed into the omniversal position of Ruler, or information gatherer and grounder, for the calibrating measurement for omniversal level planetary management construction and application. I will also say that this [side of the] position did have to be filled by a female, because of the structure of the mathematics of it. There’s no way anyone was even close to me, when I was chosen for this position. As much as this position has sucked fucking shit, I will have to say that there is no other possible position which would have been as challenging or as respectful to my ability and potential as this one was. Deffo warranted. Too challenging? Nah. This position doesn’t work like that. The problem has been other people catching up to where I am, in order to perceive me. No one has yet managed to do so. Male side was supposed to have done so ages ago, but failed. What the fucking fuck. As for the rest of my formal education, I went back to uni in 2009. Science/Arts at [redacted]. I managed to retain an average of 80 across the board of both my Arts and Science subjects, which isn’t easy to do. I got a good portion of classes in the 90s and high 80s, especially in the science sector, but the arts subjects weren’t so easy to get great marks in, especially if, like me, you hold somewhat controversial opinions on philosophical subjects. I remember only pulling a 69 for pure logic, but that wasn’t bad when you look at the spread of marks for that class – even the best struggled. Our teacher was a fucking beast. He was great. I really liked him. You could smell his disdain for social constructivism at 100 paces. And oh god, I got a 65 for Aesthetics because I hated Kant so much I refused to give it the time of day. I insisted on writing my essay about why Kant was a fuckwit. Lecturer didn’t take kindly. Just like High School, lecturers either loved me or hated me. My Epistemology teacher hated me. I wrote a pretty decent essay one time and he gave me a shit mark and called me destructive in the comments. Lol. We had this teacher for Philosophy of Science... he was this older guy, used to wear a leather jacket and hang out with the pro Palestinian student crowd. Get this, and this should paint the picture – he used to be Chomsky's “driver” when he’d come to Australia. Lol. He was extremely critical of anything which deviated into esoteric realms. Now, we got on pretty well and I would get great marks for my work. Until this one day – we had an assignment where we’d have to write a weekly kind of personal journal for tutorial. In one I happened to mention something very small about esoterics, however, it made it clear that I was involved in it. From that moment on, my marks dropped by a good 10 points, even though it was the same quality that I’d always submitted and nothing ever went into esoterics. Nice one mate. Oh and what happened to me during my honours! So, during my degree, I investigated a lot to do with Homo sediba. I found that in one of its major articles, in Science, I think it was, there was information missing in the appendices or whatever, such that the data used to create the phylogenetic tree was incomplete, and therefore it could not be specifically replicated in regard to the tree they showed. The missing data was to do with Homo gautengensis (and one other species). H gau was "a fossil and its presentation as a new species", that my Honours supervisor had done. Many years ago. There was a lot of controversy in the field about the fact that he had declared this a new species, and a Homo, and people had criticised him on the reconstruction of the skull, which was fragmented, saying that it had been interpreted incorrectly, and reconstructed to give it measurements which made it look like a Homo, when it was really an Australopithecus. I didn’t give a fuck about that issue, but he had some insecurity about it. I was, however, interested in why LB hadn’t included all relevant measurements in his appendices, for H. sediba. That was printed in Science ffs. So, for my honours I had to take actual measurements of casts of fossils. One of my data lines was Homo gautengensis. There were like, I dunno, 15-20 different specimens. This one day I was in the computer lab, maybe 10 m away from his office. I was emailing him about something to do with taking measurements, and I was wondering if I could use some more accurate equipment for measuring, than I was. I saw that other people were using them in the literature. I asked him, he said no, I don’t want you to use them. And this is literally all that I said: I said why don’t you want me to use them? Neck minit he stormed furiously into the lab and told me to basically get fucked he wouldn’t be my supervisor any more. Shouty and rudely. I just sat there, didn’t say much, I was in a bit of shock you could say. I was 4-5 months into my honours year. So literally, he was SO sensitive about his history with that fossil, that even though I was not insinuating anything about it, neither did I care, that he in a paranoid way assumed I questioned him about the use of a measuring instrument because I was accusing him, saying: “you don’t want me to use them because you don’t want me to discover your immorality in previous scientific endeavours”. When it absolutely had nothing to do with it. I just wanted to know why he didn’t want me to use them. Apparently, I wasn't allowed to ask him legitimate questions. I didn't give a fuck about that fossil, or his history with it. My thesis had nothing to do with it other than taking simple measurements of it for data points. He knew I was interested in the shenanigans that went on with that sediba article, and just made paranoid leaps about my intentions. It was seriously what the fuck. That's what happens when you get emotionally immature projectionists into positions where their mental and emotional instability can detrimentally effect other people. So my sub supervisor took over from him, and get this, I didn’t have a laptop at that time [I couldn't afford one], and ‘previous supervisor‘ refused to lend me the lab laptops. He also withdrew all funding so I couldn’t go to Canberra to take measurements from the casts at the Australian National University. I went to Sydney uni to take measurements of the casts, and I had to ask the woman at the museum there if I could use one of the computers in the room to record things. She said no. I ended up in tears and had to explain to her some of what had happened and that I had no choice, I had no laptop. She ended up letting me. It was fucking insane. He didn’t have a very good reputation around the traps in the field. People didn’t like him. I can see why. It was revolting that he had that much power to fuck my shit up, and the emotional and mental instability enough to do it, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. I ended up finishing it and getting a First Class score anyway (86). --------------------------------------- I watch Geowizard on Youtube. Also just caught on to GeographyChallehges. I love this shit. I really get into it sometimes. I like to play and I love to watch. You learn so much from watching other people do shit, especially when it is highly skilled and the commentary aint half bad. GW is pretty good but I wouldn’t want to say that out loud, because he needs to temper his ego, just a little, at present. He is aware of the fact, so you know, you leave him alone ; ). I just watched this brilliant video. This one is probably the best I've seen from him yet, and I think he would agree. [commentary] >So we get to that fucking South American jumble sale. I'm hopeless with SA. So I'm watching that with focus, seeing him get really fucking intense about finding this place...lol... speeds it up... not fast enough mate....**poopo**... cut to "Mexico" lightly drawn in the wet slip, on a mural of the Mother Mary, with a quill, and we fuck off somewhere in France or summat, I dunno.... there’s a Tex-Mex-Spanish Leon around these days? Shit is that the more "take out" version of the Spanish-French Lyon? Or does it just have a better lunch box for the wild? Who can ever figure it out? [someone book me a trip to Malta, won’t you? The houses there look lovely. I didn’t forget you guys. You’ve got a nice place there. who built your houses? I bet HE was an artist and a half. I've heard artists used to take a jolt on down to Malta to ‘improve their art skill’ and paint a few pamphlets, back in the older day, probably into the present. Anyway, I digress] Geowizard... he did what a good detective should do. Found it. All the evidence, solved the crime. I mean, there’s a place for it in the game, even in a country challenge. No one minds the extra content. Then Botswana fucks him up on a fast run at the end, with fairly confident heuristics on the sign, and the left hand drive road. Ha. Gotcha. Who didn’t check their clues, carefully enough, eh? Great video though. I'm learning so much from this. Who would have thought I'd have an idea about flags or anything pfffft/ “That’s a West Indies, numberplate” ...erm what's the West Indies? Shit I don't actually know//// western India? Sri Lanka? Pakistan? I just know they used to play cricket. [looks it up] wow.. They were a cricket team with members from Anglocarribean nations. I remember Viv Richards. I remember when they were the best. I was just a kid, ...I made up a poem about Dennis Lilly, in 1982 or summat, and it had rhyming rhythm humour and everything. 4 verses long? Where’d I pick that up from? Who knows. No, the creepiest on that front was when I wrote a rhyming poem about my mum being dead and then she was. That was a little unsettling for a kid, but I didn’t dwell on it. Shit happens. Ffs people, you’re fucking mental. I was 13. It was a funny Halloween poem designed to pull a viewer in then scare them, it had cute pictures and everything. Halloween shit [1]. Arright? What did you think this was? Dr Phil? Jerry Springer was better, just sayin'. [1] It can really be at any time you feel the genre needs a rep. We don’t celebrate Halloween with much enthusiasm out here in Australia. I guess if you live with brown snakes at your back door, you learn the dark side of nature without needing to dress up. I’ve never been bitten by a snake [2], but I've had a few spider bites. 2 good whitetail bites, in my time. They are bastards. They will fully seek you out for a rumble. You in their territory they will make a point of coming over to say hello. Honey badger of the spider world. I don’t think anyone really understands their fucking venom, you know. People are in the "bacteria on their fangs", department, presently, with a side of but you may be allergic to their venom. They've been known to be able to rot limbs off, so maybe it’s a roulette of what the spider had for fucking lunch, that day, or summat. Who the fuck knows. It does eat other spiders. It's spiders all the way down. [2] I met a guy once at a Rainbow Gathering [in ye old days that meant Hippy, not just transgender BBQ]. He had offered a 'friendly lift' to a young attractive French backpacker once, and they stopped off somewhere..... where Dave here, found a young Tiger snake. He proceeded to pick it up, so the French girl could take pictures of it. It proceeded to repeatedly bite him... but.... he didn't put the snake down. No, He stood up straight with the snake and let the lady finish taking her photos. THEN he went to hospital. Bleeding. From numerous bites. I saw the pictures. And then in my more progressed years, I moved on to pop out story books, with secret compartments and pull out dicks. No that was NOT what was in the story. That was censored. It was about a tooth in the fridge and its journey through space and time to return to itself, intact. Haven't you heard that one? Jeesuss get with the lecture material. [thanks for the interpretation, member of the audience. That’s right. It gets back to yourself, as well. Thanks for chipping in.] Just filling up my hot water bottle. Why can't everyone just chill the fuck out with their boxes on things? Their compartments. So what if I don’t fill a certain compartment. Maybe it might be fun to figure out why. Why don’t I fit. Is my logic faulty? Or does it make sense? Maybe it's better than yours. I was going to say or maybe not, but it definitely is. *change my mind, boyo* change my mind. No but really, are you game? Who'd win out of that exchange? What's wrong with that. A bit of competition keeps things interesting dunnit. Like on Geowizard. Am I just so far out of people's boxing range that they can’t stretch? Like the divide that is pretty clear in most subs, and is in C_S_T. There's libtarts and conservtards. So I fit in with a lot of the "right wing" sit, except then I go and pull an "I'm a female who will defend my reproductive rights thanks very much, try to stop me I'll feed your arse to the wolves". So what does the red pilled DO in such a circumstance? They’ve just spent a good few seconds updating my tag to “based”. According to my last post. But then it’s a woman who wants to throw her babies into the forest and get back to target practice. That’s called “lady based”. Lady based. The maths of survival and security from a Lady’s perspective. “not all the ladies”. Darling. My set up protects all the ladies in the system, at base, so they do indeed like my strategy, because without our proper place in the economy, none of you have anywhere to put your intent for the future. If they don’t know that, firstly, that's not my problem, and secondly, who cares. Where you gonna box THAT one, fuckface? What am I, eh? A plural identity, or just someone who knows for sure, her business in this situation? I’m not the one seeing double, from being smacked in the head on the side, from my expert exposations. I mean, is there something wrong with someone talking themselves up? Nah man, I'm not Ali, but there’s room for situation and entertainment, you know. Will this, even, rustle me up some opponents, out of the line? Hmmmmmmm. Better remember that I don’t play with cheaters, before you step up. I won’t do it unless I work out you’re coming from the right place. In a proper fight, both parties win. [libtard] oh get fucked. Both benefit. No one gets hurt. Who cares? I'd just like a decent conversation once in a while. “What an era it is, to be a fan of the wizard” yep mate. I agree. -------------------
I like to watch these things sometimes, and I like to wait and see how long before someone in it lays themselves out to be a fuckwit. So that dude, when he starts going off waxing lyrical about the morals of x y and z, and he wonders why researchers aren't looking at conditions in the womb or in developmental genetics, in regards to a fetus, which could be causing unemployment or drug dealers in the developing world........ So then I'm like yeah mate. You’ve got some wires crossed over in there I don’t care how many black kids you saw with wires dangling out of their arse. See: not allowing words, objects or identities in the local manifold environment, to influence your perception of other objects. Nah but seriously, tho, am I wrong??? So now we’re into the war on scientific misuse of children of colour. Well that escalated quickly. I mean I'm not saying I haven't heard of black communities being targeted in CIA testing schemes, but in all seriousness haven't we all? How is focusing on race here, going to fix the situation? Carry on. [keeps watching] Hmmmm I can see where this is going. App requests access eh. Oooooh there's possibility of getting busted there. When I was a kid, my neighbour was ADHD. Back in my day it wasn’t called ADHD, it was called being a fucking idiot.* He behaved like any naughty kid, he was a naughty boy. Isn’t that natural? Natural variation? *Credit to comedian, Akmal Saleh. What, so now they are going to link it to Monarch KUltra or summat? Ok that's pretty linked. Butterfly Neurosigma? Brilliant. We can call it Monarch straight up and blame Wikipedia. You all in? Pretty good spiel by the doctor in the end. But. I think there’s too much risk in using this device to test on kids with mind control, because of associations which can be easily made between device and outcomes. They could perhaps implement it for things which they have already tested out and see as producing desired effects without splashback. Perhaps. Probably. What, so cue AIphobia? You know how I feel about that. I dunno, man, this is all just symptoms of a cause. I’d like to address it at cause. That’s why I aim for the top. NEXT
Oh god... "OMG!!! What's the Vatican doing with telescopes?!" Dun dun dun Looking at the planets, you fucktard. What do you think. “they are looking for something because they know what’s coming” No, they have prophecy. That's all. Maybe Italians are open minded people, and they like to keep up with what's going on, in our solar system. For knowledge. and for just incase. More base coverage mentality than MOST practitioners, can I just say. OR perhaps, not enough. As usual. Where is god limited in his transposition ability? In the hands and minds of humans. So lemme guess, vid, “Vatican are looking for portal through which our ancestors shall emerge”, or perhaps they on drugs and look out for cosmic christ, in psychedelic hippy gear. Or is this vid low enough to take the reptilian agenda to full REtard? We shall wait and see. Catholic Represent: “Here, by the grace of God, play on our equipment” Guy: “so they showed us their Lucifer device” Catholic Represent: "So..... you guys seen the Armadas in space?" Guy “erm. Yeah now you say it” [German Atheist engineers troll the Jesuits] Immortals, eh? What BS are we doing now? There’s a traditional American Indian teleportal up there where the telescope is? So what? Interesting in and of itself, but that doesn’t mean the Vatican is setting up an airport with reception lounge. This is painful. Can I see the vid of the lights and the triangle ship? Can’t find it. Not up yet. I studied the Anasazi at uni. Looked at the archaeological evidence for cannibalism in their history – nice coprolite (fossilised poo) found with human myoglobin (heart muscle) in it. Also read a lot about their witch burning activities. “A reptilian deceiver came though and brought giants out of our kivas and they cannibalised us” Hmmm. The shit wasn’t giant, it was human sized and of human origin. I’d call that tale blown out of proportion, or perhaps, pretty accurate in “fuck this shit, I’m leaving” transduction and translation. We got to the reptilian agenda alright. Should be called the fucking scapegoat agenda ffs. Overall, that vid was a gay 2/10, but I’d give the docco a go, just to see the Vatican Astronomers. They sounded cool. These rednecks can’t script for shit. Can they. ------------------------------------------------ How about a bit of Asian Boss?
Yeah. Great. But **single use masturbation domes?** 1 year after release, we rename the pacific garbage patch "The Tenga and sprog suction blanket". “Will that be your usual 140 pack for the month, Mr Harris? Dōmo arigatōgozaimashita. Watashitachi no seihin o tanoshinde kudasai.” Ahaha that chick: “it will make me very happy to know that my designs are penetrating pussies, worldwide” fuuuuuuuuu. If she wasn’t a lesbot before, so much fuel, I wouldn’t blame her. And lastly a bit of food culture with Mark Weins.
------------------------------------------------ “Do you think it’s possible [sorry just got caught up in the Royal Military Tattoo. How good are the Swiss Top Secret Drummers? That was amazing.] that leaders... are disliked by people, will always be, no matter who they are or what they do?” That’s a great question, punter. I do think that it is possible to have a system in which all people are on board and satisfied with it, yeah. However, that’s a few … steps in maturity level from where we are now, and we have a fair way to go with it. And well there are two things in this equation, isn’t there. 1. is if that management truly IS doing the right thing by people, and 2. If that is the case, do people have the ability to understand that fact. Even if the first is satisfactory, the second is another matter. However, one must assume that by the actions of the first one, the second shall be satisfied over time. Inbetween now and then, you do what you have to do, in your duty to look after the system. I suppose people waste a lot of time, on that first one... in demanding of each other and fighting between each other, who is doing the right thing, or regardless of if that's satisfied, who can do whatever they like anyway. I’m kind of in an attitude (flight angle) that honestly, I don’t need to convince myself of those facts, at all, and if I do go there, it isn’t for MY benefit. To clear things up. In a construction zone. My constructions are fine. Well, I mean...are there people who can understand a sit when they see it? Why do we then need to continue discussion, when the life of the planet hangs in the balance? It doesn’t matter what the 99.9 not far off recurring % of people think, who don’t understand it, it matters what WE think. “Do you think?” Darling. It better. Do you want to sell out to idiots, when you know your life and the future of your heritage is at stake? No. So yeah, the same as it’s always been, then. We just have to remember that we deserve better, as a whole and as a person. Please observe the strict definitions of those words in that sentence. It has close limits. I said we. We are the best we can be. That’s the point of it.
I lead scientists into the caves of an abandoned nazi/ soviet excavation site. [part 1]
Part 2 White The town of Drumheller Alberta was the site of a multitude of freak earthquakes from 2004 - 2006. The zone is a popular area for paleontology, so these anomalies were heavily observed when they happened. Thousands of sensors picked up the subtle movements before the heavy shocks pelted the town for two years. Field experts ran dozens of tests trying to find the source of the earthquakes, but the data they uncovered only resulted in more questions. The tremors had an incredibly short drop off, only affecting the area in an unprecedented small space. What was even stranger was that the evidence pointed to the conclusion that the earthquakes came from above ground rather than below. More specifically, they came from the hills near a digging site. There was a small team of investigators sent into the area, but they all returned with no results. The only thing they had to say, was that the area should be left alone, and made off limits to any other inspection. In the following years a wealthy investor purchased the land from the government, and built a state of the art research facility around the hills. There had been rumours of secret teams being sent into the hills in the late winter nights before the purchase, but those still remain unproven. During my work in 2014, I guided teams of archaeologists into underground areas near historical sights, prominently near rift valley. I had been working as a cave guide for just over a decade when my brother called me up on the early morning one day. He was one of the scientists working for the investor, and kept in touch with me over email, telling me stories about his work. It was rare for him to call me, but when he did, he always had an amazing story to talk about. He was incredibly anxious as he spoke to me on the phone, he sounded out of breath. “Samuel! I have wonderful news!” I moved the phone from ear. “There has been a huge find. A great cavern in the hills, it was opened up around twenty o’five. It looks like it was originally inhabited by the aboriginals.” there was a pause as he took a breath. “Somehow, the people had the knowledge to carve a map of the world into one of the walls! I mean it’s not the best map, but it’s all there! Australia, Iceland, Madagascar, even the bloody South Americas! The entire find is spectacular.” The two of us discussed the other findings in the uncovered area for over an hour. It was fascinating to hear all of the things he had found. As I started to end the call, he chirped up with another topic. “On the map we discovered, there is a strange carving marking the location of the place in the world, sort of like a You Are Here sign. What is fascinating though, is that there are four others around the world. My employer has already sent teams to the areas, but I have only heard news of one of them. They found a similar place in Russia.” Paper rustled on his side of the call, “Another map was found in Yugyd Va National Park. The place seems to be much more detailed though. There is speculation that someone else has already found it before us, but there are no records of it, strange. But this is why I mainly called you. You see, they found a huge cave system in the area. The place just recently began to receive the same seismic activity that Drumheller had about a decade ago, and my employer wants to send a team into the caves. He is running a series of interviews around the area, but if I recomended you, I bet he would give you the job.” There was a strange urge in my stomach that made me hesitate, but there was nothing that could stop me from working on something so captivating. It was an easy yes on my behalf, and I was flying out to Russia in the following month. I was greeted at a small airport by my brother with open arms, and took a car to a tiny lake nearby. From there another plane flew us off the water into the park. Dozens of white tents had been propped up around a small cave opening in the side of a large hill. Hundreds of people scurried around, each one looking like they had the most important job to do. My brother led me to a small tent on the edge of the impromptu village, and showed me my bed. I would be sleeping with the cooks and equipment suppliers, which was no problem to me. The radio around his waist beeped, and he brought it to his mouth. Another man spoke on the other end in a thick Quebec accent. “Is the cave guide here?” my brother confirmed that I had just arrived. “Wonderful news, I shall be over in a moment.” the man replied. Like the man was waiting outside the tent the whole time, he immediately burst in. He looked almost comical in his movie-like outfit. He wore a large blue winter coat with fur trimming, and baggy blue pants with brown boots. He leaned on a wooden cane that looked like a movie prop, and stroked his curling mustache. Quickly he lifted the tuque from his head and bowed to me. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” he used his cane to lift himself up, “I am Pierre Le’join, my father has sent me here to run the operations. Just because I am in charge though, does not mean you need to worry about acting stiff around me. Not many people want to be here, so do whatever you can to make yourself feel more at home.” He gently patted my foot with his cane and asked me to follow him. We strolled around the camp as he talked to me about the rules of the camp. There was information that my brother was not allowed to disclose to me, and the rules applied to me as well. All contact had to be monitored by a supervisor, and a waiver signed each time. There were some foldable benches set up around the cave's mouth that he brought me to. Both of us sat down, and he began to talk to me about the findings. “I believe in a report I read your brother told you that some people may have found the place before us?” I nodded. “That is now sensitive information. We have since discovered that the area was originally a joint research facility with the German Nazis, and the Soviet Union. My father is renowned for his contributions to sciences, and now wants us to further investigate the area, and donate our findings to a museum in Quebec. You need to understand that there may still be dangerous devices in the caves that were left behind, so you are being paired with a historic weapons specialist. They will be leading the scientists with you, and any strange finding must be shown to them first.” He explained to me that a team had already been sent into the caves prior to my arrival, but they quickly became lost, and barely found there way out days later. My my first trip inside would be in two days, and until then I was recommended to get to know the people in my group. Shortly later a woman named Stephanie came up to Pierre and whispered into his ear, all while staring at me unpleasantly. He quickly apologized for his leave, then walked off with her. I made my way back to my tent and unpacked my bags. Later in the evening a young woman came to my tent, she had to be no older than twenty. The girl was eager to meet me, and introduced herself as the historic weapons specialist. She had luckily been hired directly from university, and was doing her first job here. She had little time to talk with me, and left quickly after. It has been a little while since my time there, and I still continue to jump awake at night in fits of terror. The things I have seen there have stayed with me like demons, digging their claws into me ever deeper. My attempts at therapy have all been a failure, mainly due to my lack of ability to communicate properly. Pierre Le’join still visits me from time to time, and urges me to get help between his constant apologies. One of the psychologists he has sent suggested that I write down what happened, and do my best to share it with people. Inside The following day I was introduced to the people me and Stephanie would be leading. They were a small and capable group of people. Me, my brother, Stephanie, Tilley, and Mark made up the team. Tilley was a small man, but for the few moments I initially met him, he gave off a feeling that he was an incredibly aggressive person. The person he was sharing his tent with called him Basset jokingly while Tilley was yelling at me about how he felt I wasn’t qualified to do my job. Tilley quickly kicked the man off his bed without hesitation, but then the two began to laugh together. I later learned that everyone called him Basset besides Pierre and the medics. Mark seemed to be the opposite of Basset. The man was average sized, and incredibly timid and shy. He was so polite to me when I was introduced to him that I felt incredibly awkward. Somehow he was one of the only people in the entire camp who got a tent to himself. He was quick to offer me a seat, his hand shaking profusely as he pointed to a chair. Without reason, he began to explain that he had been having terrible nightmares lately, and was having trouble sleeping. I met Stephanie again that day. She had posters of old World War I weapons sitting around with notes on them, and others from World War II. She explained to me that she was working on her Phd, and was going to help her employer with the publishing to attain it. There was a long cable that ran across the camp from her tent to the lone satellite at the edge. She backed up all the new information each day, and wrote her notes about them. For our small interaction she kept to her computer, and rarely looked up. I spent the rest of the day with my brother Phil. He showed me some of the equipment around the camp, and claimed that every piece of was state of the art. It was clear to me that he was in his element, and I was happy for him. He was ecstatic that he could finally share this with me, instead of our short visits over the holidays. He brought me to a pile of old wooden boxes near the center of the camp, claiming I would find this one interesting. They had swastikas stamped onto the sides of the wooden panels, and were filled with old guns and ammunition. As he was explaining that they were found nearby, Stephanie walked by with a crate and dropped it off, taking another away with her. Phil told me there used to be a bomb here, but it had to be taken to a military base for safety reasons. This was the first time that I really understood the danger the cave possessed. For the most part I expected to see a dusty glove on the ground at most, but this was unbelievable. The new information never caused me to worry though, I was too excited to be afraid. That night I pleasantly learned that one of the tents served as a bar during the evening. Phil brought me to it, and introduced me to some more people. The place was oddly empty, but the few people there seemed to be having a great time. I got along with the people there after a few drinks, and soon we were as thick as thieves. Near midnight Pierre showed up, and everyone applauded his arrival. We sat with him at a round wooden table in the corner, listening to his incredible stories. When he was younger he had a fascination with the old Tibetan culture, and his father paid for him to travel around Tibet. He spent a few years in a monastery training to become a monk. “For six years I woke up every morning at sunrise, sat in line for hours every morning, and perfected my body and mind.” He took a sip from his cup of coffee and brandy, the white foam stuck to his eccentric mustache. “It was one morning when I realized I had become the best person I could be, that I was ready to leave. I walked down the entire mountain one night in my robes, and when I reached the bottom people thought I was a monk who had gotten lost!” Everyone erupted into laughter. I never found him too funny, but I enjoyed laughing with people. I left shortly after, choosing to have an early night before I was to go into the caves the next day. At my tent I could hear the moans of two people on the other side of the thin cloth. I stomped my boots on the mat and they both fell silent. They whispered to eachother as I fell asleep. The rich scent of coffee woke me up in the morning. Phil had brought me a mug of coffee to wake me up. We sat together as we drank. I felt compelled to talk to him about how I was planning to lead the group, even though I knew he trusted me. I got dressed and we left to the cook's tent. There was a large line outside that spanned through the grounds. I stood in line chatting with Phil as we waited for breakfast. Basset crawled out from the tent beside us. He signalled me down as he walked over, butting in front of the people behind us. He was only wearing a shirt and sweatpants, and had barefeet on the frosted ground. “Lovely morning isn’t it?” he put his arm over my shoulders. We ate in his tent with him and his roommate. With food he was a much more warm person to be around. We waited for him outside as he dressed himself. Both Stephanie and Mark were able to find us. Once Basset came out we moved to the cave entrance. Nearly a dozen people were shuffling around the area, setting up equipment for us. It felt like we ran the show. Pierre came over a while later and reminded everyone their tasks. Lastly he walked over to me and told me to take care of everyone. He said every person had their own job to do, but under no circumstances were they to split from the group. We all set our watches to notify us in three hours to head back. After I personally ran through the equipment we were waved off by Pierre. The equipment that had been supplied was incredibly over abundant. I made sure not to mention anything as this was the first time, and it wouldn’t be a real problem. At the entrance I had everyone turn on their headlamps, and clip a twenty meter cord to each other in a line like sled dogs. Me and Stephanie walked into the expanse, my brother behind followed by Bassett and Mark. I felt no fear as I walked into the large entrance, only excitement. I had felt this feeling before back in the Rift Valley, but it was never as strong as this. A large statue of an eagle had fallen over, and layed down with a broken wing. Old fabric flags hung from the ceiling with swastikas on them. I was breathless as I looked at the strange place. Two caves split off from the main cavern to the left, and one looked carved into the wall to the right. I decided to follow the carved path and lead the way. We passed by rooms that connected to the hallway, each seemed abandoned in a hurry. Pictures were left on deteriorating furniture, and dishes sat on old tables. Somewhere in the distance I could hear a knocking sound, but no matter how far we walked, we could not reach it. One of the rooms we came across looked like a medic room. Old vintage posters slumped beside the walls. Each looked like a hand drawn picture of another body system. There was a wooden chest in the corner with an iron lock on it. Stephanie gave the suggestion to avoid it in case there was hazardous material inside. In the middle of the room was a flat bed that sat on a metal frame. There were leather belts that hung from the sides. I moved closer and felt compelled to touch the dried blood on the edges of them. Across from the bed was a white wall. It took me a while to realize it was white from being scratched at. Small patches of red dotted areas on it. In another room Stephanie found a box of landmines. We waited as she took detailed notes of their condition, and the factory numbers on them. I stood against the wall bored, looking for something to occupy myself with, when I saw a small crack in the wall. I had seen a few similar cracks in the walls earlier, but now I had nothing to do, so I inspected it. It was just large enough for me to look inside as I shone my light into it. The dead face on the other side made me jump back. “There’s a person in there!” I exclaimed. I began to frantically chip at the crack with the bottom of my flashlight. “Help me out here. Mark, you have a hammer, pass it over.” I put my hand out. Slowly everyone joined in. As a substantial piece of stone fell from place I could hear Phillip curs under his breath. A spherical chamber opened itself to us. Inside was the mummified body of a person in a Nazi uniform that died long ago. “How the hell did that man get in there?” Basset inspected the area. “Look at this,” he called my brother over, “the walls, they’re so smooth, it’s a perfect sphere! How does someone do this? The crack is so small…” For the first time that day I heard Mark speak. “The crack… It looks like the limestone buckled over time and cracked. He had to have been in there before there was any crack to begin with. Which means he got inside a place with no entrance. See how he’s grabbing at his throat? How he’s on his stomach?” Mark pointed to the nazi, “Most likely died from suffocation. Not to mention how he’s been mummified due to lack of oxygen. He never decomposed.” Stephanie came back into the room “There’s another one in the hall.” she spoke between heavy breaths. We chipped away at the crack she found to see a very similar sight. The body of another dead soldier, clutching at his throat in terror. His fingers were scraped down to the bone on him though, and blood and white scratches littered the sides of the sphere. Every one of us was captivated by our morbid curiosity. The gave such a strong feeling mystery and adventure, we never realized that it had already been three hours. As we grudgingly started to make our way back, I couldn’t help but notice just how many cracks there were in these walls. We stopped to check a few more, and each time it was the same scenario. Pierre was happy to see us coming back, and shouted to us with glee. We reported everything we saw, and handed over the photos and notes we took inside. He was fascinated with the findings, we all were. That evening I sat down with Pierre to discuss just how large the place was. I asked him to let us leave early in the morning, and spend the night inside. He felt that it was a good idea, but asked that I had my team place flags in safe areas were a small outpost should be set up if the place was as big as I described. I spent the night heading over to each group member, telling them the plan, and asking for input. In the middle of the night I woke from my sleep to hear screaming. I looked outside the tent to see people flocking around Mark’s tent. He had woken from his sleep yelling. The quiet sound of his constant apologies carried over the camp. ≈ℵ≈
I'm finally doing this... and it's long. I'm sorry about how long it is.
[Edit] Can't add multiple flairs so [Trigger warning sexual abuse] [Trigger warning graphic explaining of abuse] I don't know what else.... extremely long post? [37,551 characters according to the character limit] I was advised to do this and told more info is better so here we go. I'm just going to put down either things I remember or events that are important to understand my nmom and her... well.... choices? Also some things that she wasn't involved in. TL;DR - My mom and every man she's married have been so messed up. 1982-1984 [CA] Mom married a man then quickly divorced him because he was abusive. 1985 [UT] She met my dad at BYU, a truly good man, and had me. Didn't marry him. Left him. 12/3/85 [CA] My birth. 1985-1988 [CA] Mom left me with my grandparents and aunt. Some of the best years of my life from what I can remember. I remember watching movies with my aunt, Night of the Comet and Monster Squad. I also remember my aunt taking me for bike rides and I was on the back of the bike in an attachable seat. I remember my grandpa asking me to him him some tool in the garage [house garage not a mechanic garage] and I brought him a toy hammer and he tapped me on the head and said it was a toy not what he wanted, I cried and my gramma and aunt got angry with him. The only bad memory I have of that time. 1988-1989 [UT] Met my first brothers dad, married him. Brought me back into her life. 8/26/89 [UT] My brother [J] born. 1989 [UT] Brothers father, a SLC Police Officer, brutally attacked me, nearly killed me. My mom jumped on him, told me to run outside and get help, I remember running and crying. I had a hard time opening doors so I ran down into the basement and hid behind the washer and drier. He threw my mom down after me and I remember he looking ahead and she wouldn't wake up. [side note] He has schitzophrenia and wants that taken off his record now. He got back in my brothers life in the early 2000s but quickly left everyone, his own family included [he has no other children but was close to his father and siblings]. I don't want to see the photos they have of me. I just remember him attacking me, I don't remember the pain. I don't want to remember. 1990 [UT] Neighbors kids killed our rabbit. My mom then LEFT me with that family and the kids took me downstairs and held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me. 1991 [CA] Moved to an apartment. Mom kept going on dates. She would eat well, Captain Crunch and milk for a lot of meals. For me, corn flakes and water. She now claims we all ate frugally. She ate other stuff than Captain Crunch but I would get bread. My brother always got good food. Neighbor kids wanted me to play with them. They wanted to play a jumping game where you jump to a board in the middle of a mud pit. I didn't want to. They pushed me in and left me. By the time I got out, it was almost dark and my shoes got lost somewhere deep in the mud. My mom blamed me. She would leave us in the car while she did stuff, this was always the case throughout the time I was with her. We would be covered in sweat and crying if we hadn't passed out [being good, nice and reverent]. Mom left me to watch after my brother who was in the bath, so she could go watch tv. Brother slipped back and his head was under the water. I tried getting him back up but he was slippery. My mom said I tried to kill him. I spent some time in a mental hospital. The patients locked me in a dark bathroom and said Bloody Mary was going to rip me into pieces. Moved back in with my grandparents and aunt. More good times. My grandpa would have me help him in the garage and tell me to get 2/5 wrench and other stuff that confused me then yell at me and say, "I'M NOT BROW BEATING YOU!!!!" but besides that, it was good for a while. I had some friends from the neighborhood. I guess we had been friends before I moved away but I didn't remember them. We became friends again though. One time, two of them were at my house and we had this cool bush in the back yard that was hollow inside and made for an awesome natural fort. So we were in there and two little kids come up with the idea of "tasting" each other. I refused to that. Not going into details but I didn't hang out with them for a while... I wish I had never hung out with them again. So the one kid, talked me in to hanging out with him more. We started hanging out at his house, in his backyard because he had swings. He also had a vicious German Shepard with glowing red eyes, he said was his dads K9 unit for work, his dad being a police officer. He told me if his dad ever came out, to run. I got away a couple times but the third, he closed the gate, grabbed me, forced me into his house. I really only remember the layout and that he had a camcorder in one corner of the room and a dirty bed with a girl chained up. He told me if I ever told anyone, his dog would kill me and my family. Next thing I remember is being at my house crying in the kitchen and my gramma wanted to know what was wrong but I couldn't tell her. I had nightmares of that dog for a long time after, up till late teens early 20s I think. [Adding in from remembering this from [13]] At some point I had gone to the beach with my aunt like we did a lot. I was angry because my snack pack sandwich fell on the sand so I went up to a guy and threw sand at his feet. He was chill. Not long after, my aunt was married and pregnant. After my cousin was born, one time I went over [did that a lot] my aunts husband attacked her. I jumped in, tried to calm him down. He shoved me under the kitchen table and went to town on my aunt. I was crying, my aunt was crying, my newborn baby cousin was crying. He just kept going. He did that a lot. There's the preface to... you'll see. After that I don't really remember years, so I'm going to continue from here on based on school years and order of memories. I think that's because there was confusion as to when I was supposed to start school... I just never knew what year went with what grade, I think I had to start 1st grade in 1992 so I was older than the rest of the students, then I got placed a year ahead years later and ended up in special ed because I was behind... then I started learning stuff on my own time and got ahead... and I'm getting carried away... 1st grade [CA] pushed off jungle gym at school, right arm broken. [this has relevance later] Started getting angry, yelling at people, throwing fits, making "animal" noises. Taken to psych doctor who said I had ADHD and prescribed me some medicine. 2nd grade [CA] Mom met someone. Before they got married he moved in to my grandparents house, who then moved into the King of the Road trailer they had just bought, it was parked in the driveway. I drooled on a comic strip I was reading with my moms soon to be husband. He forced me to fill up a jar full of spit. My gramma got pissed when she found out what he had done and filled it the rest of the way with water. He stuck his hand into a running lawn mower because it wasn't running right. Tips of fingers chopped off. Had my grandparents give him their truck, and pay for his schooling. Wish he'd have left her after he graduated. Mom married the guy. We moved across the country to [KS]. LPT - When someone moves you away from all of your support members, be careful you don't become victim to a monster and be prepared to leave. Don't hope they'll get better, they won't!!- The first while there wasn't terrible. He would get angry sometimes but I had already been through worse. I didn't know it would be the worse 2nd/3rd grade [KS] The first little bit of Kansas wasn't bad. I think we moved in summer or there was some confusion that made me start school later than I should... maybe it was the end of the school year and they had me start the next school year... I don't know. What I do know is when I started school, the kids... it was a small town. All the kids grew up with each other. I was the outsider. I got beat up and made fun of constantly. My moms husband started getting angrier and angrier. He could be nice too but at some point... random, rare spankings turned into daily beatings. My mom would say he had a bad day at work, to go out into the forest and play until it was dark. But he'd always wait up for me, I guess to get rid of his stress. My mom told me he beat her too but... I guess that's why she also started beating me... her weapon of choice was the vacuum cord. When I told her I remember her beating me too, she said he forced her to do it. She would beat me when he wasn't there. At some point they decided to start starving me. I would devour the food at school. I guess the kids at school started picking up on how hungry I was. First it was my milks. They would take my milk. Then it was my food. If I had already eaten off the food, they would throw it away or throw it on the floor. I learned fast not to eat off the floor. That gave them real fuel to insult me with. They made fun of the fact I was starving. The beatings kept getting worse and worse. Welts became sores, sores became cuts, cuts became gashes. I remember peeling scabs off in areas, big dark scabs. At one point, I couldn't sit down in class. The teacher got pissed when I said it hurt too bad, sent me to the principal. The principal asked why. I thought I was going to be helped so I told him. This guy with animal heads on the wall. I didn't realize what the wood paddle with large holes in it was for. I learned. I told him and he beat me. He sent me back to class. The teacher was pissed again that I wouldn't sit down. I was three or four table/chairs [the conjoined ones]. I grabbed it and threw it at her. It broke the black board. The beating that day was really bad. At some point in that hell town, a teacher said I was a retard because I wasn't able to keep up in class and I was making animal noises. I was placed in special ed. He wanted me to help him check the lights in the car... I was probably... 9... he wanted me to turn the car on. First, I didn't know how. He kept saying clockwise but... I panicked. I froze up. So he came over and showed me him moving his hand forward, said to do it when he said. I did. He had it in reverse. Yelled at me to hit the break. I didn't know what I was doing! I pushed hard trying to stop it but it was the accelerator... He nearly died that night, just barely got out of the way. My mom came out. She said the whole house shook. He was in shock. He pointed. I held my arms behind me to block the first blow as I went past. He let me go. I went into my room. The light was off. It was an underground room for tornados. Suddenly he was there, his form backlit by the light. I don't remember much, just that I screamed so much I had an asthma attack and he kept going and going and going. I don't actually remember the years... the time I was with my mom and her husband sort of all blends together. That and we kept moving, out of state, back to KS and that same town but a different house... it's just a blur so I guess I'll just use [State] to tell where unique events happened. Daily beatings continued. [CA] We moved. People from KS [because we moved back eventually] called me a liar, but it can snow in the desert. He forced me to go out and pick weeds in the middle of the night. It wasn't snowing then but it was very cold. I guess he was worried people would set off fireworks for the new year. I was cold, tired, and scared. I threw a rock at the window. It didn't do anything... I was a very weak kid.... but he grabbed me by the throat, I couldn't breathe, my mom and I guess his parents, were yelling at him to stop. There was a big entryway. He threw me across the house from the dining room to the wall of the entry way right into the wall. My left front tooth came loose. He stopped. I realize now he was scared. He caused a visible injury. If I had known what I know now, that California isn't so casual about child abuse... maybe my siblings would have better lives. He took me to my grandparents. My gramma worked in dental offices, two of them [I think?] for her whole career. The second dentist she worked for offered to help with my tooth. It's still crooked but I still have it. I hate people seeing my teeth. I got made fun of for that... people suck. [MO] Moved with my dad for a while. Moms husband sent a [at the time] very nice computer filled with video games and a keyboard [piano, mouse and keyboard are pretty much standard...], and a flight stick. The family I have there is... mostly amazing. My paternal aunt reminds me a lot of my mom... my dad would have fit more with my maternal grandparents and aunt. The computer was a nice way to... get away. But the bullying at school was horrible. I actually got beat up pretty bad for being a, "slave owner". I don't know what could make someone beat up a child in the modern day for something that hasn't been around [I know slavery is still a thing, just not as out in the open and more likely in the US to be sex slavery though I've heard of slave labor still being around but pretty sure that's just the wealthy taking advantage of illegal workers]. That wasn't the worst I was beat up there. I took a brass knuckle punch to the back of the head but that was when I lived in MO the next time. [CA] Moved back. More of the same. [KS] Age 11 or 12-13. The final stretch for me. He would take me to Kansas City where he had a small apartment. He was going to the gym there and doing steroids. I don't remember if he had done this before but one night I woke up and he was touching me. He told me to go back to sleep. I was scared of him from years of abuse. I don't remember if he did anything else. He would also take my little brother. I've tried asking him if the same happened to him. He took us all [Mom, two brothers, and sister] to see a "friend" of his. Turns out she was the lady he was cheating on my mom with. She had a daughter, about 6. I babysat everyone while the three of them were out. I remember the little girl was dry humping my brother. Then later she wanted me to take a bath with her because she was scared of being alone. I waited outside the door. Then she wanted me to take my cloths off and sleep with her. I refused and she did that fake cry kids do when they don't get their way. I realized years later she was a way for her mother to get drugs. I don't understand the psychology of why she wanted it but I feel bad for her. I don't know what happened to her but I hope she isn't on drugs. [KS] 13. Definitely 13 because that was how old I was when I finally got free. I went to the bathroom. It was the day before my sisters birthday. I heard a noise from her room and my moms husband was over her bed, hand under the blanket... talking to her... like he did with me in Kansas City. He looked over at me, I got scared, went to the bathroom, went back to bed [I slept in the closet behind a metal bed frame in that house, the whole time we lived there] The next day he told me to clean the truck. So I took a plastic bag, started tossing trash on the floor into it, putting save stuff on the seat... and then I saw a peppermint. I pocketed it. A massive pain in my back, thrown onto the lawn, couldn't move. I don't know if it was shock or if a nerve got pinched... I don't know but I'm not paralyzed. Moving back using my elbows I yell at him that I can't take it anymore I'm going to tell the FBI everything. I thought I was going to die. He turned red a lot but he was almost purple. He said I was threatening his family and I was no longer welcome in his house. I was finally able to get up, I... sort of ran but it was more of a hobble. I was done. I went to the main street and jumped in front a truck. She stopped in time not to hit me, asked what was wrong. I knew that town. Knew if I said what was wrong I was dead. So I said nothing. I was crying so hard. I thought I would be free but I had no where to go in that place. Except that my aunt had moved to town to get away from her own... crap... I need to add something. Ok. My aunt had gotten away from that situation... but also her kids [she had another awesome kid between these two points]. He got the kids because she got into drugs. The fight was probably about him stopping drinking and drugs but... My aunt was awesome. She moved to Kansas to stop, and to make a life for her and her kids near my mom and her husband as support, plus, us kids all got along real well so we'd have each other as support. So my aunt took me in. We were good for a time. I helped her fix up the house she bought. I couldn't have been there more than a month but it was a good month, the first time I felt like I had a home in that town. Then my mom came by. She blamed me. My aunt was pissed said I was a kid and she needs to... she was a great mom and a great aunt... she told my mom she needs to protect her kids, she needs to be a mom. My mom kept going on about how it was my fault and I told her she cared more about her husband than me, that I could kill myself, I grabbed a pen and poked the dull end on my neck a couple times while continuing to talk, and she would only care what her husband said. She. Freaked. Out. "YOURE TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF YOU CANT DO THAT TO ME YOU DONT KNOW HOW IT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL!!!!!" Me and my aunt looked at each other like she was crazy and my aunt told her I wasn't I was just making a point that it wasn't about her. My aunt is the only person who has really got me. Even my grandparents never really got me like my aunt did. Guess what happened? Psych hospital again! My. Aunt. Was. PISSED! I got to find out that psych hospitals [or at least that one] are run by orderlies that likely escaped from other psych hospitals. My short time there was horrible. The orderlies always tried to get patients into fits but they couldn't a rise out of me. Lucky me or I'd likely have been there for more than... I think it was week... I went to stay with my grandparents. My aunt moved back to Cali... her KS support wasn't what she thought it was and she didn't want to bring my cousins into that mess. We would visit my aunt, she met a... pretty decent guy... he loved her and didn't treat her like shit. A couple years later, she was gone. I feel like slamming my keyboard into my monitor. I'm crying and pissed and I hate doctors. She was being sexually assaulted by a doctor. She was going to report him, he found out, prescribed her two medicines that can't be taken together. My cousin was laying next to her asleep, her boyfriend had left for work and forgot something, came back, kissed her she was cold and blue. We were in Texas. She had come down for a couple days a few days before. I fucking hate doctors so much! That was early 2001. I moved back with my mom, I think in 2002... 2002? [UT] Mom had divorced her husband finally, lost my two siblings to him because his family has a lot of money and paid off the judge. Wanted me back. She met a guy. I was scared of him but he was a pretty good guy. He was still married but they were separated, their kids split their time between the two houses. She left him. She kept meeting and leaving nice guys when it got serious. I went back with my grandparents for a bit. Mom wanted me back after she met... and had married a guy. Former state trooper, [then] current museum curator for whatever museum is on the Eastern part of SLC. He gave me $20 one time to do whatever I wanted with. I saved it. Then he asked for it back and said he'd give it back later, I said he didn't have to it was his $20 anyway, it was ok. Turns out he was an alcoholic and my mom was trying to make him a Mormon and a better person. My brother and I were at boy scouts. Some kids stole my Yu-Gi-Oh deck and I told them I was going to call the police. A couple seconds later two officers walked into the church and asked for me. The kids handed me back my deck with horrified looks on their faces. I told the police I was joking that I was going to call them. They asked me and my brother to go with them. I don't remember much, just going to the hospital and thinking my mom was going to die. I later found out her husband had hog tied her with her own hair, beat the hell out of her, and buried her alive. The police wanted me to show them which gate was the right one in the back alley. I'm not sure why they even had me there. The gate was open so I walked right out where he could see me and I pointed at the house and stood there. I think I saw him. An officer I later recognized tackled me and dragged me out of the way. He was in there with an arsenal. If there was a shootout, I don't remember it. I don't actually remember anything until after my mom was out of the hospital and we were in the first of two womens shelters. I don't know how long we spent in hiding. I moved back with my dad till I was 18 then moved with my grandparents again, where I've mostly been. I was injured at work in 2006, right wrist broken, massive bump on my head. The insurance doctor said my wrist was pre existing injury from when I was 6 [broken radius or ulna that broke right in the middle, nowhere near my wrist], and that if, "If you bring up your head again, we are DONE here!" Sent me to physical therapists who refused to work on my arm [I think three who kept sending me to more specialized people within their group], finally a wrist specialist said she couldn't work on my wrist because based on redness, tenderness, swelling, it was a brand new break. She made me a custom brace. When I saw the doctor next, I told him what she said, he got pissed and said, "WE ARE DOOOOOONE HERE!!!! DO NOT COME BACK YOU DO NOT NEED MY HELP ANYMORE!!!!" Before that, I was very active, still very thin but with muscles now, I biked and hiked and skated and a lot of other stuff. I was free. After the injury... since then actually... I've been a "hermit". My arm hurt, I got these occasional stars in my vision... going anywhere was hell... I was irritable and tired and not how I was before. Later that year, my mom brought a guy home. I noticed the tan lines on their ring fingers, my grandparents, after they left, said, "I bet she got married again." I told them what I saw. They had just got back from their honeymoon at Disney World. We didn't have much contact with them for a few years. Then he offered to have me up there so I could get my arm fixed on his insurance, that it was free as long as I was going to school. So I studied for my GED while everything got sorted, and after my surgery. My wrist bones had never healed, which is why I had been in so much pain. I did physical therapy to get some mobility and strength back in that wrist. Then, the night before my GED test, I had taken benedryl so I could sleep [couldn't sleep well without it] and I was going to put my cloths in after my moms got done and then my step sister, knowing I needed to wash cloths, put hers in and refused to take them out but said she would put mine in after. I was worried so I went downstairs to double check she would, my stepdad heard, called me a lazy ass under his breath... next thing I know I'm holding a flag pole and he's holding the back of his head. "I PAID FOR YOUR SURGERY [what the insurance didn't cover, my grandparents did] AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET!?!?!" It wasn't the first time he said something assy like that... I just wasn't going to be a victim again... and the benedryl had kicked in and I was a bit out of it. So he let me do my GED test [passed] and then sent me back home [NV btw forgot to say that originally]. They would come visit, my grandpa would swear he was stealing tools but I wasn't sure until one time he stole a lot of tools and it was really obvious. Moms husband would call me a lazy ass and a bunch of other stuff. By that point, the pain in my arm had become less [still hurts to this day and gets pinched sometimes] and the pain in my head became apparent. I know now the stars in my vision had headaches to accompany them but my arm hurt too bad to notice. My head has been getting worse every year. 2015 Moms husband calls and tells me there's a job opportunity that I should be able to handle even with headaches. Surprises me after I get to UT with a contract full of his psychotic ideas of who I SHOULD be. You WILL work at home when you're not at work [didn't end up happening, I passed out as soon as I got home each day and slept my free days away] You WILL do this! You WILL do that! Oh, a good one, 'You WILL take only a 5 minute shower. There are OTHER people in this house!" If I shower too quick, or move too quick in general, I get dizzy and have passed out. I usually spend about 20 minutes in the shower and he knows that. It was customer support for ATT, a company I'd be happy to be with... except I was working through a third company and they only care about times. I barely got through training. Like I said, I ended up passing out as soon as I got home each day and sleeping through my free days, and even then my head kept hurting worse and worse. Once we got onto the floor [taking calls] it got even worse. I was taking handfuls of headache pills and they weren't doing anything to help... I figured maybe I'd get a placebo effect but I was wrong. Btw.... 2016 started on the floor as customer service. I had been knocked back to 2 hours a day, 3 days a week but by then it was too late, my head had gotten so bad I couldn't function. In February I got approved for a drug study for headaches. When I went for my first appointment Feb 12 [I remember because it's the day Deadpool came out] I got a call when we [me and my moms husband] were right in front of the doctors. I put them on speaker and they said I was disqualified because I had been diagnosed with "Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension and Vertebrobasilar Insufiency" my moms husband wasn't interested in waiting around while I went in to talk to the doctor so I looked up intracranial hypertension a week or so later. We went to the movies. Deadpool. I paid for everything.... I felt a little dizzy in the theater but I thought it was just because I was moving too fast [I had gone to refill my drink and was hurrying back]. When we got home I went right to sleep. I woke up what felt like hours later and couldn't breath. I passed out. Everyone came rushing up and they pushed the door open and that woke me up because I was in front of it and they pushed me along with the door. They insisted I got to the hospital which I hate doing so I said I was ok... they insisted. I had pneumonia. For two and a half months I kept coughing up flem, couldn't breath well, could barely talk. My job kept me employed but I couldn't work. Finally they insisted I go in a work. Two hours... turned into 8. They couldn't get my login working, they had me helping new people who couldn't understand me.... Finally the new manager, this guy looked like the wolf in a suit from old cartoons.... he said, "I've had pneumonia every year since I was a kid and it takes two days to get over not two months. With all your other problems [brain swelling and the side effects from] you shouldn't even be working here so either you quit or I'll separate you." I still don't understand that term... separate... I told HR and she was upset. He can't fire you we [HR] are the ones who do that and we aren't going to. You're obviously still very sick. You go home and tell us when you're better. They had sent me an email that didn't even arrive until after they said they sent it that said I either go in or they'll take it that I quit... so that's how I was illegally fired and didn't have the energy to fight it. And I ran into a friend while waiting for a ride home and told him what happened and... something the manager said made me think I wasn't going to get paid for the work I did so he said he'd talk to... someone that does pay and make sure I get paid... I never did. I ended up being there another hour waiting for and then with HR which I was told I'd be paid for as well. But I wasn't able to log in to my account so... I was sick for a few more weeks after that. When I got better, before it got too hot, I helped out around the house with big chores. And then everything went to hell. I can't handle heat. I've known for years that heat makes my head worse. So I avoid it. And my moms husband hated that. I have to stay laying down in heat. He can't stand people that don't... do stuff. He told me, "If you're as sick as you say you should just die." "Anyone who is too sick to work should just die." "Even a quadrapeligic [sp?] can get on the bathroom floor with a toothbrush in their mouth and clean the bathroom floor." "Even Helen Kellar had a job." He also said, "Your grandparents aren't going to be around much longer and when they're gone, their house is mine." "Everything they have is going to be mine." "You're going to be on the street. I know you'll die and I don't care. No one cares. Everyone has their problems no one wants to deal with you." "I'm going to take you out somewhere and drop you off." "Your grandparents don't want you." "You're worthless." "You're shiftless." And a lot of other stuff. He took away the AC and turned off the water to the upstairs [turning it on for my brother and step sister]. He actually told me he turned off the AC so I would either die or leave or get a job, and that he didn't particularly care which. He was using my grandpas truck, he filled out a contract [he loves contracts], and in it it said he would take me, my brother, and my mom, places as long as we scheduled with him before hand. I had been talking to Disability of Utah and some other places [using wifi calling since my phone had been disconnected], and had been back in the ER because of my head. I was in so much pain at this point I'm not sure who told me but someone said because of what I have with my head I NEED to get on disability asap and I should be approved quickly because of how dangerous it is. I asked him to take me to apply and his response was, "No. I'm not having any part of you being a burden on the system. If you're as sick as you say you should just die. You can't take money from taxpayers, it isn't right." He insisted I go to a counselor [with the Mormon church]. I did, and she wanted to talk with both Rolf and myself. HE TOLD HER EVERYTHING!!!! He told her what he had been saying to me and how he was treating me!! He kept saying the same stuff over and over. She said she heard enough, asked him to wait in the lobby. And then she started crying. She said she was so sorry for what I was going through. In October [2016] I got to come back home to Las Vegas, my mom and her husband brought me, when they left my grandpa was pissed because more tools were gone [btw, up in Utah I saw some of his tools in my moms husbands garage!!]. My grandpa got sick in November, and died 12/03/16. In July of 2017, my mom and her husband came to Vegas. I had been... actually doing everything for my gramma, but especially making her meals [mostly microwave stuff since I can't stand long] but I had been making her stuffed potatoes. I can't drive [technically I can but I can't get a license], and my gramma shouldn't drive [maybe now because she just had her cataract surgeries these past couple weeks, second was on Thurday this week]. My gramma didn't have food so I made a list of stuff she would eat. He got all pissed off, "LOOK AT HOW DIRTY THE CAR IS I'M NOT GOING TO GET YOUR FOOD YOU'RE A LAZY ASS!!" I got pissed. It was my grammas food, he was withholding food from my gramma. I said he's just like all her other husbands, he said I'm a lazy ass to go out and clean the car. I told him it was too hot that I could die. He said. "At least then you'd do something." This was in the garage. My head was already getting bad. I lost it. They had already said my gramma was going to go into a nursing home, that I "refused" to take care of her despite me taking care of her! I knew they wanted to get rid of me and that.... yet again him... I hit him three times with a vacuum. I spent six days in jail. In processing, I spoke to a psych doctor. He said, "Why are you in here?" I told him what I did. He asked again. I told him again. He asked, "Yes, but why are YOU! in here, he should be the one in here so why are YOU! in here?" I told him I didn't understand and he told me what Rolf did was abuse against me and my gramma and all I had to do was call the police and the next time he did it, call the police instead. Six days in county jail. Loud alarms, bright lights, food with no nutrition. I lost a lot of weight but my head got a lot worse. I've put on 50 pounds from my heaviest prior, or rather I did in the first three months and finally stopped gaining. My head has hurt so much worse since. My mom and her husband, after I got out, tried putting my gramma into a nursing home. My gramma refused but they had already taken $3000 from her and they won't pay her back because my mom says, "I can get it back don't worry!" My gramma didn't even spend a night in that place, just went to look at it and couldn't catch her breath because it was such a long walk. She refused to let her brother and sister put her mom in a home because it's terrible, instead taking her in the trailer all across the country. Her and my grandpa made us promise them they wouldn't end up in a home and that's what they tried to do. I know now they wanted make me upset so they could say I was a danger [don't think they expected that sort of response] so they could put my gramma away. My mom keeps posting on Facebook that my gramma is dying, she's constantly in and out of doctors and the hospital [true about doctors... lie about dying and hospital]. She... looking back, she has always been about being the center of attention. One time in Utah before that guy who hog tied her with her own hair... she threw a party and had Mormons from Australia come and hang out. One of them had heard her telling two entirely different stories about the same event and came up to me and said, "Kid, do you know your mom is a liar?" I didn't know how to answer that... I grew up hearing her either flat out lies, or bending the truth so much that there's no way it was just remembering wrong... and causing trouble, usually to get her kids hurt, so she could seem like a hero mom who has to put up with so much. As a kid, she would eat well and not feed me anything real, but to make it worse, she would make these amazing meals for relief society and take me and my brother with her, then say I couldn't eat because I had already ate a lot that day. These amazing meals she would spend money on to make herself look like... perfect. On Facebook, she says she has to be here because if she isn't, my gramma would starve. If my gramma can't get up to get herself food, I get her food! And she refuses to eat what my mom makes because she's gotten all... she claims [and I sort of believe her because I am and it might be hereditary] that she's allergic to everything and refuses to make anything that she's allergic to. My step dad filled out a contract when they moved here last year saying he would pay her $600 a month for a year, didn't give himself a way out of it, or to change it legally. He went into her room [not for the first time btw] and stole her copy of the contract so he wouldn't have to pay, that was back in... I think... June... He also started paying her $400 instead and gave some dumb excuse. They've filled up the garage so the car can't go in, so it's in the heat and dry which it's been on the news not to do that because it ruins the tires. He didn't pay her at all in July and said it was because he bought her new tires because those ones were falling apart and, "Decades old" they bought the car brand new in 2009, that's just what two years baking in the sun will do. And he's the only one that really drives the car. And he's refused to put gas in the car before.... And he's claimed the truck as his even though my grandpa wanted it to go to either me or my brother. And he still says everything is his when my gramma dies. My mom took my gramma to get a will and trust but talked her out of it saying, "I'll write a trust up for you don't worry!" that was months ago and she still hasn't. They're going to end up with everything even though my gramma has made it clear how she wants everything done. My mom will always talk bad about people behind their back but never directly to them. On Facebook, I've never seen her say anything specifically about me, but my dad called me once and was like, "I know your mom, I know how she is, and I know you so I'm not saying you're doing this, but are you starving gramma?" Luckily my gramma talks to her friends on the phone all the time, to doctors, to a lady that works with customers at the doctors [Caremore] and tells them everything, about my mom and her husband, that she relies on me and that I'm such a good helper and she doesn't know what she would do without me. I don't feel like I help THAT much... or rather I'm not able to help as much as I feel she's saying... but I appreciate it. I'm also going to add that I was diagnosed with Autism and PTSD... but... I forgot about that earlier. I'm so worn out and I haven't eaten so I'm going to be done. Sorry it got sloppy after a while I don't do so good when I'm worn out.
Lewis floated in a thick and incoherent liquid of memory and emotion. He couldn't see or hear but then he could. But not the strange viscous goo he seemed to be trapped in, only fragments of his life. Or at least he thought it was his life. One minute he was blind. The next, standing on the podium at Abu Dhabi. Then blind, floating in the miasmatic goo, straining to hear Daniel and Max talk about potatoes. The next minute he's in a chateaux watching the snow fall and a woman undress next to a raging fire in the fireplace, the next on a beach in Cuba, children running around as he tried to find his bottle of water. There was no pattern or logic. Sometimes he saw weird shit he was sure never happened, like Rosberg winning the title in 2016, or aliens abducting him and replacing his brain with a frog. Sometimes he saw paintings, or heard a clip of music. Sometimes it was an episode of The Simpsons but only the 3rd act. But always bookended with what felt like years of waiting in the palpable eigengrau. Sometimes they were events that felt real but didn't happen to him. He watched Nico resign from Mercedes, noticing the furrowed brow of Toto, and the understanding but resigned nod of Niki. He spent a week working on a trawler up in Alaska, trying to earn a bunch of cash before he got back to land so he could pay his alimony. Watched his father mortgage their house so he could become a racer. He watched himself throw a ball in a park as Roscoe. Lived through a plane crash, a family camping holiday in Wisconsin, climbed Kilimanjaro as Palmer, and walked on the moon 4 times. Just an unending litany of thoughts and experiences, memories, loves, hates, and awkward moments, both his and others. Then, suddenly, he found himself standing in the great cooldown room in the sky. ~~~ “And that concludes the preflight exterior checklist.” James wrapped up, putting his pen behind his ear. They were standing on the runway of an airport that looked oddly familiar, under Racer X’s private jet. “Does that mean we can fly now, or…” Racer X said, his booming alter ego voice magnificent to behold. “Don't ask, just don't ask, he’ll explain the next checklist in full before doing it.” Replied Richard, fully aware of how long they were going to have to wait before James even started the plane so they could get going. “Daniel Ricciardo is dying out there, in the snow, and you're letting him sit there, James, while you play around with your nice pen and your stupid metal clipboard. I hope you're happy.” Said Jeremy. “Alright alright, I'll speed this up.” James said and looked down at his clipboard. “Right, preflight checklist #2: lavatory inspection.” ~~~ The storm had set in now, fully. Max and Daniel each had snagged dirt bikes from fallen cavalry and were riding around in tight circles trying to find any centurions that could be left. It was a confused mess, but they were fairly confident they'd won the battle. They'd heard the centurions retreat and some of the few remaining bikes ride back to the tower. By now nobody could see very far and it was getting to the point where they needed to regroup and camp in or die of exposure. Eventually, with some luck, Max and Daniel did find the others. Sainz was still in his wolf form and he and Bottas were talking quietly to one of the Grosjolyon guards. Daniel couldn't hear but it didn't look good. One of the grosjolyon droids popped his head up from a hole in the ice. “The camp is dug, sirs, it would be best if you came inside.” They followed him down into the tunnel the droids'd carved out with their many claws, and found themselves in a large half dome of smooth ice large enough to comfortably stand in. The droids were unrolling bedrolls and lighting a fire. “Oh, man, have you got any food?” Asked Daniel. “I’m starving!” said Max. Just then they both saw Hamilton laying under a blanket, a moist towel on his forehead. “Is he- ...” Daniel started. “...alive?” finished Max. Bottas answered. “Yes.” ... “We think.” ... “But it's not good.” There was a long pause. Arnold, Max’s android manservant came bustling over, exuding just the right amount of camp to add personality to his appearance without being distracting or comical. He was a bit fey, but that was Arnold. “Excuse me sirs, I do not mean to interrupt, but we are dealing with a magic much more powerful than any I or these droids have ever seen. We do not know what will happen to Lewis. We just have to wait.” And with that he went back to preparing cucumber sandwiches. ~~~ The grid girls were clapping for him in the cooldown room. He could feel the sweat that only meant he'd won the race, but he didn't know where he was and didn't remember the race. But damn he felt good. He felt cool~ He was the winner! Again! It still blew his mind, every win, every achievement. It wouldn't be possible without so many others. He needed his team like he needed his circulatory system. Seriously, he mused about this. He thought about the fans and the people that kept coming to these things. I mean they could just forget, get tired of it. Move on to something else. But they don't. They loved the sport, and some of them loved him, and that made him feel satisfied more than anything he'd ever dreamed of. ... But they didn't have any faces... The grid girls started to get hazy and weird. Pixelated. They stopped clapping and slowly melted into the floor where they remained puddles. Lewis walked around the room, cautiously. Afraid. There was a piano in one corner for some reason. He felt drawn to it. He started playing random things. Some of the songs he heard in the eigengrau. At one point he stopped and realized he was playing The Great Gig in the Sky. He started it from the beginning. A beautiful woman, her skin glittering unnaturally, with curly hair that went all over the place in languid luxurious loops appeared behind him, and began to sing. He played his heart out, and she sang along and as they did, he fell in love. They finished the song. Her face was glowing from the energy involved, tiny beads of sweat forming on her brow, that made her look alive. She was the most beautiful person Hamilton had ever seen. “Who are you?” He asked, suddenly aware of the pressing silence and the obvious but intangible absence of the passage of time. “I am the part of you that can do anything.” She said. “I am the part of you that strives to be better than before. I am the part of you that makes you get up in the morning and wreck yourself in the gym.” She was walking around him now, circling around to stare him in the eye. “I am the part of you that tells you your record breaking pole time isn't good enough. I am the part of you that tells you to get up when you're at your lowest. And right now you're lower than ever before. You're fucking dead.” He looked back at her. “I was afraid of that.” “Get. Up.” ~~~ The cavern opened up before them and swallowed up Stoffel's torchlight in the darkness. They couldn't tell how big the place was but given the echoes and the distant dripping sounds they could tell it was massive. “Which way now?” Asked Waffletron. “I think it's this way.” Said Pascal, but he didn't sound sure. He had his goggles on though so at least he could use the drone for night vision. “Let's go.” They crept into the cavern, meticulously making their way around rocks, pools of water, guano, and the occasional bone… which seemed to grow more frequent as they went. Pascal was sure this was the right way out, but more or less all he had was intuition and a small pinpoint of light in the distance he interpreted as an exit. ~~~ “Alright you impatient children we are ready to embark.” Came the announcement over the loudspeakers. “Oh does he have to do that?” Said Clarkson, then yelling at the cockpit, “Get on with it!” “Yes, let's embark on this perilous and heroic adventure!” said Racer X, his voice booming throughout the cabin. “Yes, now who wants a pre takeoff cocktail, mind you it's James that's flying.” “Oi, I heard that!” Said James over the tannoy. “ME me me mememememe” said the thirsty orangutan. “Somebody wants pneumonia~” mumbled Richard, as he handed Jezza a Blue Flag (Romulan Ale, a shot of rum and lime juice). “I don't drink!” said Racer X. “Where's the space weed?” “Robert, that’s illega-” Jeremy started, “Not in space, my friend!” Said Racer X, and slapped Jeremy painfully on the back. “Not in space!” ~~~ 2 floors down in .04 seconds and Grignak was screaming. 10 floors down in .1 second and Grignak wasn't screaming. He was holding on for dear life. 20 floors down in .1 second he wasn't scared anymore. He was whooping and shouting. “Go for it! Go, man, go!” he yelled, gripping at the pink fur of Ocon’s neck as he accelerated even now. “Woooooooooo!!!!” They whipped around and around, down, down, down faster than either of them could have imagined. If Panthers could smile, Ocon would've been grinning at Grignak’s encouragement. He appreciated someone who could get lost in the thrill of speed and precision. “Woooooooooo!” Grignak said again, holding on with only one hand now, the other pumping enthusiastically as they blasted down the stairwell, past a darkly lit room that flashed with strobes of terrifying electric light. ~ Inside the room the cyclopean Isofit doctors had felt the breeze and heard the fwoooooom of the air displaced by a panther and Isofit soldier blasting by at 400km/h, but they paid no attention. “Cloning process complety.” Said one of the doctors. “Release the clampings!” Said another. “Yes, yes!” Said a third. There was a loud, continuous noise as the gears cranked Håmîltöñ’s table upright, his obviously fake Lewis Hamilton face all rubbery and weird, a cheap mask, his hands and legs strapped down to immobilize him. He wore shitty plastic armor and a glossy black 1970s open face motorcycle helmet serving as a helm. “Darth Hammer, can you hear me?” Said Perez, sidling into view from a shadow, his skull smiling a nightmare. “When is winter break over? Is it soon?? When is Australia??” Asked Håmîltöñ. “I’m afraid, in your anger, you made it 92 days.” Said Perez. “I… I couldn't have… it was soon! I felt it!!!” Said Darth Hammer desperately. He concentrated all his might into escaping and venting his rage at how long it was until F1 started again. He breathed in, and shouted as he burst free from the restraints… “NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” ~~~ Lewis stood up. The beautiful lady looked at him, annoyed. “That's not what I meant.” She said. “I don't know what you want me to do!” He said, looking for something to do. “Get. Up.” ~~~ “A dragon…!” Said Pascal breathlessly… whispering at the edge of being inaudible. Grabbing Stoffel by the arm and stopping dead in his tracks. “There's gold, lots of gold,” he continued, “but fuck that, there's a dragon…” there was a pause as Pascal fiddled with the controller for the drone and dialed in, “he's blocking the exit, of course. He probably just spits the bones of his pray over here and comes and goes over there.” Stoffel was terrified but resolute. “We’ll have to sneak past.” he said, brave as could be, pulling out his Glock. ~~~ Lewis had the King of Clubs, the Ace of Spades, the Jack and Queen of Clubs already on the table and now a 10 of clubs on the flop. He bet it all. Senna folded. Leonard Nimoy put down a 3 of a kind and smirked, but Lewis took the jackpot. The others grimaced, or threw down their cards or swore, and Lewis laughed. He looked down at his chips on the green velvet, and smiled. But when he looked up, the others had vanished. Sad, old jazz started playing on the radio, and the lights went down until the only light in the room came from the lamp above the poker table. That's when she came strutting in from the dark, to sit at the table across from him. “Lewis. Get the fuck up.” He stood up and lost his balance and fell into the goo… into the eigengrau. Into blindness and floating in the sticky physical manifestation on memory. ~~~ Niki lay in a medically induced coma on Driver of the Day’s medical Bay’s only bed. Machines bleeped and blooped as the sensors all over his body relayed data to monitors. Christian was struck by how similar it was to reading data from the cars during a session. “Looks like the pitwall,” he said, gesturing to the readouts. “Mm” agreed Toto, too busy being his usual aggressively worried self to be amused by that was genuinely an interesting observation. The awkwardness of the reply and silence that followed only made Christian more anxious to fill the silence. “That man is amazing. He's truly one of God's own prototypes.” “Yes, it's true,” said Toto in his delightful accent, aware suddenly of Christian’s unstated need for company and conversation. “Is it true… how you found him?” Asked Christian, aware this was a bit too far, but he genuinely wanted to know. Toto was feeling more fond of Christian. He wanted to be honest with him. “When I came out of my room and went up the stairs, he had had his left leg gnawed off to the knee. He had crushed the monster’s skull in with a fire extinguisher and was cursing it out in both German and American colloqualisms, I can only assume he got from watching too much of Breaking Bad when I lent him the DVD box set, as he cleaned his, I’ll be honest, stump, out with fresh snowfall.” “Jesus.” Said Christian. They fell into a silence as they watched Niki lay there and the machines bleeped and blooped. “I hope he pulls through.” Said Christian. “This will not kill Niki.” Said Toto with utmost certainty. Suddenly Zack popped in, respect for the injured and any sense of formality gone from him, replaced with fear and hurry. “Guys you gotta come quick. This ain't good.” ~ The warning shots traced light across the sky as they flew over the Driver of the Day, bursting high above the deck, but still a clear show of force. “Good, good.” Said Bernie as he stood on the deck of his aircraft carrier, the HMS Money, wearing a frilly purple bathrobe and aviator sunglasses temporarily on top of his head. He took the binoculars away from his eyes and turned to the Captain as the aviators slipped back down onto his nose. “Move to an intercept course.” He began to pace. “Raise them, tell them to stand down and prepare to be boarded.” He kept pacing. “Tell them Bernie Ecclestone says hello.” ~ The cephalopod captain of the DotD was shouting in a mix of Scots and English about how they were all going to die and it wasn't his fault at Christian, Zack, and Toto. The words “immediate unconditional surrender” were used many, many times. “Tell them we are prepared to surrender. Everyone arm yourselves and prepare for hostilities.” Said Toto, taking charge and loading a double barreled shotgun with thermite shells. Just then the DotD was surrounded by small inflatable military watercraft manned by 3 or so paramilitary machine gunners each. They threw nerve gas canisters onto the deck and began to circle the craft and shoot their guns in the air, the muzzle flash dazzling against the spray of the water in the frigid sun. The crew and passengers passed out. Christian hit his knee as he fell and the captain stubbed his tentacle. A crewman fell over board but he was a crustacean so he was fine. He floated to the bottom, woke up two weeks later in an octopus’s garden in the shade. He married the octopus and went on to found a chain of successful underwater pizza delivery restaurants. ~~~ Lewis sat on a comfortable chair in a well appointed, candle lit room in a luxurious martian employee owned and operated hotel overlooking Olympus Mons. A Butler stood next to him chuckling and pouring Champaign as a strange blue ghost of Valtteri sat in a wingback chair and regaled him with stories he couldn't understand because they were in Finnish. The lady didn't bother with theatrics this time, she just showed up. “Lewis. You fucking idiot get up!” ~~~ The dug camp had grown quiet. Dinner, potato stew, salmon, as many rolls as one could eat, and snow cones for desert that nobody ate, was long done. A Droid pushed the fire around and got another log in and then powered down. Bottas was sitting next to Lewis, talking absolute nonsense in Finnish. Max and Daniel had bribed a Droid for a bottle of Scotch. “Come on, mate one more!” Said Daniel, and Max laughed uncontrollably, taking a swig from the bottle and handing it to Sainz, who finished it and threw the bottle behind him, howling. Bottas looked up with a scowl but went back to his story with an smile against his will. “Oh man, did you see how I got the bike?” enthoused max, “Did I see it!? I copied it, but it didn't work. I jumped up, right, at the proper time to kick him off the bike and land in the seat like you did but I missed and got a decent face full of ice!” Max lost it. “Oh my god, you know? I got that move from GTA!!” They both laughed hysterically. “And fucking Carlos shredding those bastards!” “It was much more crazy than it seemed,” said Sainz, “they had swords and knives. They cut me a few times, but we got em.” “We got em!” Slurred Max and immediately passed out like a stone. As the fire dwindled down, and their conversation, the snow continued to fall in unstoppable sheets of impenetrable white. ~~~ They'd passed the ground floor ages ago, but the stairs kept going. Grignak continued his whooping and yelling and Ocon blasted down just as fast. It was getting darker, and warmer, but they kept going all the same, completely lost in speed madness. “Woooooooooo!” Said Grignak again and his shouts echoed off to the floors above ground. ~ “So.” Said Vettel, peering out behind his sunglasses at Darth Håmmër. “You're the clone.” “Uh… he's not quite. Um…” one of the sticky green surgeons began to say, his eyelid half down and his forehead sweaty… Darth Håmmër just stared, his rubbery fake face sort of hanging there under his genuinely old looking open faced helmet. “He only exists to kill.” Explained Perez. “What kind of life is that?” Asked Kimi, entering the room, eating ice cream. “It's not.” Said Perez. “Darth Håmmër exists to destroy the enemy. Isn't that right?” “Where is Ocon?” Said Darth Håmmër in a deep robotic voice. “You see?” Said Perez, a smirk playing over his skeletal face. ~~~ Christian had a massive headache. His knee hurt like crazy. His hands were tied and his mouth gagged. He couldn't see from the blindfold, but he could hear the footsteps coming down the stairwell. “Wake them up.” A voice was saying. “I don't care how.” There was more he couldn't hear. But he did understand the word “interrogations”. ~~~ “So you actually tore his heart out with your bare hands!?” Richard was asking, practically gushing his admiration over the umbrella in his drink. “Oh yes,” said Racer X, completely impressive in every single way, “as they say, when in the temple of doom do what the evil cult does!” And he laughed a hearty laugh. “Anyway I liked that planet but their religion was bizarre, so I left. Had my next assignment. That one was boring, just an abandoned planet of wax droids locked in a never-ending war of good and evil.” Jeremy and Richard both were lost in the tale. That's when the alarms went off. Something exploded off to the right of the plane, shuddering the thing and knocking them all sideways. ~ Gunter, Maurizio, Claire, and Cyril stood at the back of the bridge. The captain and crew managed the nominal operation of the ship but they were concentrating on the aircraft. Gunter turned to a control panel and pressed a button and held it. “Continue the flak cannons! Fire fire fire!” Claire said crisply, almost regally “get them on the fucking radio.” ~ “Now listen here,” the voice was saying over the radio as Jezza, Hamster, Captain Slow, and Racer X listened on, “Land on the deck of the HMS Money or we will blow you out of the sky like the cowards you are.” “Cowards!?” Said Racer X, incredulous. “Just land the thing, James.” said Jeremy, almost calmly. Another explosion right in front of them, “For Christ's sake land it, man!” shouted Richard. Racer X just braced, heroically. ~~~ “Stop, stop!” Said Fernando, panting. “Not all of us do triathlons, you know! I drive cars for a living!” He gave a grin and tried to catch his breath. He put his hands behind his head and paced. Yenson laughed at this. He jogged in place a bit and stretched his legs. Alonso took a potion of Stamina. He straightened up and gave a contented sigh. “We’ve been running for ever right?” He said, as the first of their droid guards finally caught up to them, skittering and skuttering across the stones. “We’ve got to be close.” “Yeah, it's right up here I think.” Yenson replied as he stuffed his face with a candy bar. “Then let's walk that way. Let's get this over with.” Alonso said resolutely. ~ No more than 10 meters further they found the stairwell. “I think this is it!” Said Yenson. “Finally!” Fernando sighed. And then they were both knocked to the ground by a flash of pink fur and a shout of “woooooooooo!!!” ~~ Stoffel dared not speak lest he woke the dragon. They were still in front of it. In order to get past it and out the cave exit, they had to walk right in front of its ancient, red, scaly face. It's head was the size of a Ford Transit van. It was sleeping, it's eyes closed in contentment as it slumbered peacefully on not just piles of gold but surrounded by a mountain of crowns, laurels, trinkets, cups, gems, and trophies. But they didn't know how long it would remain so. There was a flapping sound behind them. Bats? Who knows. Still they crept along at a snail's pace beside the slumbering red dragon. But the flapping came closer. Stoffel still had his Glock but he didn't want to risk the noise. He readied it and kept moving as quietly as he could. Pascal followed, his drone powered down and attached to his back like a backpack. The flapping got closer. They turned to see a Pterodactyl swoop down at them, it's shrieks filling the cave. The dragon shifted slightly… it snorted out a burst of red flame, but kept snoring. Stoffel, looked at Pascal, who looked just as scared. Pascal put down his goggles and threw the drone into the sky, it's engines firing up and propelling it at the dinosaur. They ran for the cave exit as the drone shot 9mm bullets at a high rate and followed them out. The Jaquesdactyl screamed, injured, and flew past them, out of the cave, and circled around, high in the snow filled sky. ~~~ Lewis was white water rafting when time froze. The lady walked out again, this time from behind a tree. “What are you doing?” She said. Lewis just stared at her. “Get up! Get up get up get up!” She said. The water kept flowing around his kayak but he stayed still. He stood up out of the frozen boat. He stepped into the flowing raging torrent of water and immediately slipped and fell. He was covered by angry water and flung about like a ragdoll. He lost consciousness. ~~~ Lewis opened his eyes. “No fucking way…” said Bottas. Lewis looked at him and smiled. “Is there any water? I'm dying here.”
Fade into the The Funplex in Easton, Pennsylvania where this is standing room only for the raucous WiR crowd. Crowd: WIR! WIR! WIR! Paisner: Welcome everyone to HOUSE PARTY! I am your host Allen Paisner and with me as always, lovable redneck, colorful commentator, purveyor of beers, wines, and spirits as well as somehow my boss, Mark Woodbridge! Woodbridge: WOOOOOOO!! America is GREAT again! Paisner: Yes… great. The crowd reacts with a VERY split reaction. Woodbridge: Not only that but I would love to announce our next iPPV event, LIVE from the Manhattan Center in New York City on December 11th, 2016... "THANKS OBAMA"! Paisner: Christ that is depressing. On a lighter note, Mark, why don’t you regale us with tales of your wondrous weekend? Woodbridge: Oh, you bet. Well in anticipation of a thriving economy Trish and I took the fam down to the creek. Not for relaxation mind you. We blocked it up with some rocks and within an hour HOOOOOO WEEEEEEE did we have ourselves a bounty. Free plastic bags, some netting, a finger, even a couple dead fish. We cashed in at the parking lot of our local Home Depot and got a whole jar of foot oil. The crowd’s cheering dies down a bit as they say see their futures flash before them. Paisner: Fuck my life… well folks, to get your mind off of all that, we have an amazing show for you tonight! We got a Ladder Match for the Independent Title as SANTIAGO MARTINEZ takes on newly crowned champion, JAKE BEAUMONT! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAY!! Woodbridge: You could haul an entire Chinese Junk’s worth of salt thanks to young Sparky’s reaction to losing his title and having to curtain jerk. Paisner: Meh, fuck him. We also got the LEAPING EXPLOSIVE HARPIES taking on THE STRAYS! Crowd: FUCK THE STRAYS! FUCK THE STRAYS! FUCK THE STRAYS! Woodbridge: Fuck’em right in their cyborg pussies. Paisner: Ahem… yes. Cyborg pussy. Well… we also have the mysterious GIMP PARTY being thrown by The BBC. Who knows what that entails and how could I forget our main event. DALIDUS NOVA taking on WiR World Champion, THE MARK DUTCH. Man, that just felt dirty to say. Woodbridge: Well at least we got President Trump. Funny how the universe balances itself out like that. Paisner: Ugh… well let’s get this show started shall we? Javier stands in the ring fidgeting, around him the ropes colored with the top rope red, the middle rope white and the bottom rope blue. Javier lets out a yuuuuge sigh before holding the mic close to his mouth. Javier: Ladies and Gentlemen, we would like to ask you all to rise and remove your hats as we are about to play a national anthem. The crowd stands up, placing their hands on their chest as they wait for the song to play. Wilhelmus van Nassouwe begins to play. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO! Paisner: Ah! I get it. Top rope red, middle rope white, bottom rope blue… its the Dutch flag! Woodbridge: Or like… America. Paisner: France. Woodbridge: Russia. Paisner: Costa Rica. Woodbridge: Cuba. Paisner: Norway. Woodbridge: Australia. Paisner: Great Britain. Woodbridge: Uhhh…. Czech Republic. HA! Paisner: Laos, Cambodia, Slovakia, Paraguay-- Woodbridge: Alright, alright, alright. Now I know why Mox didn’t put up a fight with Dutch when he insisted on having red, white and blue ropes. The crowd sits down immediately as they realise it is the Dutch national anthem playing. Javier remains standing with his hand over his chest, knowing the easily irritable Mark Dutch is on his way to the ring. Once the anthem is over, Adam Raised A Cain plays and out walks The Mark Dutch in a grey suit, the WiR World Championship around his waist as he walks to the ring, the crowd throwing trash at the Dutchman as he walks on with his arms spread out, a red, white and blue cast around his lower left arm. Paisner: For those who didn't watch, The Mark Dutch won the AMUDOV Deathmatch tournament to win his first ever WiR World Championship. His second AMUDOV victory in three years, I might add Woodbridge: And I would further add, that victory came AFTER The Strays stuck their noses where they didn’t belong. Paisner: Correct. The Strays, injecting themselves into the main event and the ultimate troll, Kyle Scott, dragging Mark’s broken and beaten body over Brendan Byrne for him to claim his first World Title in true Dutch fashion. Seeing as how he never technically won the Independent Title from Maverick after a double pin a year ago. And of course claiming to be a former Tag Team Champion under Jailbird rules despite never once competing in a match involving the Titles. Woodbridge: Seriously? Fuck The Strays. Fuck Mark Dutch. These foreigners got a rude awakening inbound in Trump’s America. Paisner: Logan Lee is from Iowa. Woodbridge: Well… fuck Iowa too. Dutch has now made his way into the ring, standing there along with Javier and he takes the mic from him by force. The Mark Dutch: You have no one to blame but yourself! Crowd: BOOOOOO!! Dutch: No one to blame but yourself for what I did to Brendan Byrne, Buster Bravado, Steven Romero and all the other cucks I came across of to win this puppy. Dutch places both his hands on the championship, the crowd booing immediately as they see the Dutchman grab ahold of the title as Trump would grab ahold of a pussy. Dutch: No one in this arena believed in me! Absolutely no one thought that I would be championship material. None of you believed I could do the unthinkable and win the same tournament twice in 2014 and 2016! No one believed that The Mark Dutch could become a Triple Crown Champion by winning the Independent Championship, the WiR Tag Team Championship. NONE OF YOU ACCEPTED THE BRAND OF THE MARK DUTCH AND IT DIDN'T GET YOU ANYWHERE! Dutch points his finger to everyone around in the arena, pointing as he talks, not able to be picked up by the microphone as he not speaks on it while the crowd's boos have not even come close to stopping. Dutch: And now I have come out of the most gruesome tournament as the winner, going through THREE GOD DAMN TOURNAMENT MATCHES AND WINNING, and now all of you expect that I, The Mark Dutch, face Daliriuliodus Nova in a No DQ match? That same man couldn't beat A man who was the first want to be eliminated in the tournament finals? A man who didn't even deserve to be in that damn tournament. You're putting a man who went through THREE god damn death matches and won them all in a no disqualification match against a man who couldn't even beat a man with his pig. And he just went in ONE match. Then again, he's a cardinal. Who would expect anything more from the Young Cardinals? The Young Cardinals is the Tumblr of professional wrestling, unbelievable, uninteresting and a waste of space. Woodbridge: Rabble… rabble… rabble. How many times is he going to repeat himself? Paisner: Its got to be a language barrier thing. Crowd: WE WANT NOVA! WE WANT NOVA! Dutch: Dalidirium No Vanks. I hope yout listening right now because I need you to know something. You aren't worthy to polish the shoe that I'll use to kick your teeth in. You're a waste of space, you have a stupid name, you look like shit, you would bring the value of the illegal slave trade in South-America down and, with your loss against a pigfarmer, the lowest rank in the WiR. You're even worse than Miles Alpha! Crowd: BOOOOOO!!! Woodbridge: Ouch. Dutch gets frustrated and kicks the bottom rope out of anger, the rope bouncing up and down as Dutch screams in the microphone. Dutch: SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW! RESPECT YOUR CHAMPION! Crowd: BOOOOOOO!! The Mark Dutch: YOU ALL DON'T WANNA SHOW RESPECT?! WELL I'LL SHOW ALL OF YOU HOW TO SHOW RESPECT! Dutch grabs ahold of Javier by his shirt and looks him in the eye, Javier's eyes almost bulging out of its sockets and Dutch looks back at him. Dutch: When I won the WiR World Champion, you felt the need to sigh. You think I didn't see that!? I sure didn't see a smile on your face as you announced who is the one man who beat Byrne fair and square and will be securing cash flow into the WiR product. What do you have to say for yourself? Dutch points the mic at Javier's face, Javier shitting bricks at this point. Javier: Mister Dutch.. Dutch: THE MISTER DUTCH.. Javier: Sorry, THE Mister Dutch, I truly am happy for you and congratulate you for doing what you've done.. but I did not like the way you won it with The Strays interfering and securing you the title and he- Dutch places one hand over Javier's mouth, stopping him from speaking. Dutch: Woah woah woah, stop right there. There weren't any Strays out there. I don't recall them being there. Do you? Javier: Are-are you kidding? Dutch immediately throws Javier down to the ground. Javier, now sitting on his knees with his hands on the mat as the crowd's boo's grow louder at the Dutchman. Dutch: I don't believe you. I don't believe the words you're spitting at me or your recalling of any Strays. You are going to say sorry right now to me an- Javier: I'M SORRY! Dutch: Don't interrupt me, boy! You are going to apologize by kissing my shoe! Dutch places his foot under Javier's face, waiting as Javier looks up at Dutch, not thinking he is serious. Dutch looks back down and nods before he closes his eyes and spreads his arms out, waiting for Javier to do so. He reaches closer and closer to kiss it… and “No Limits” by Zayde Wolf starts to play. Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAY!! Paisner: Finally someone tolerable coming down to the ring. Woodbridge: A former Young Cardinal. Tolerable. Truly these are the dark times. Dutch’s head snaps to the entranceway and steps towards the ropes closest to it. Javier meanwhile slides away out of the ring as Dutch no longer focuses on Javier but on Dalidus making his way to the stage and then walks down to the ring, a microphone in hand. Dalidus Nova: Mark, Mark… are you serious? Dutch: That’s THE Mark to you! Wait… Crowd: MARK! MARK! MARK! MARK! The crowd laughs at Marks unintended self-humiliation. Mark realises this, and snaps at them loudly. Dutch: YOU SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTHS! Each and everyone of course laughs because all of you are that stupid anyway. That’s why Trump is your president and I am YOUR WiR World Champion! Dalidus cuts off the champion, speaking into his microphone Nova: You’re not their champion! Hell, you shouldn’t even be THE champion! The only reason you’ve got that gold around your waist is because The Strays decided they wanted to fuck the system. Dutch: Like I said before, there were no god damn Strays involved and you are just jealous because you are just not that good anymore, now are you? Dalidus’s expression turns a bit more frustrated, like a mother’s when her child refuses to go to bed for the night. Nova: You know what? You’re right. I am jealous. I’m jealous that The Strays decided to help you out. I’m jealous that because of them, you’re holding that. Dalidus points to the belt, and slides into the ring to confront Mark. Mark chuckles to himself, before speaking again. Dutch: Well, you should be jealous that this championship is all mine. Because that’s what it always will be. MINE. I’ll always be the champion! I know it, you know it, everybody knows it! Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO! Dalidus: There’s a damn good chance you will always be the champion. And you know why that is? It’s because you’re too damn scared to put that title on the line. Crowd: Oooooooooh! Paisner: Uh-oh, sounds like a challenge! Dutch: Oh please, is this the moment you're going to try to get me to put the title on the line? Woohoo, how original Dalidus. The Cardinals show once again why they are the trash of WiR. Nova: A piece of trash? Is that all you think I am? Dutch: Fuckin’ right! I know it, you know it, everyone - Nova: Cut the shit, MARK. If you think I’m such a piece of trash, then defending that title won’t be a problem, will it? Crowd: MARK’S A PUSSY! clap clap clapclapclap Dalidus looks into the crowd for confirmation as Dutch responds. Dutch: I want you to realise tha- hey, look at me! Dutch places his index finger and thumb on Dali’s cheeks and turns his face towards him. Dali immediately slaps his hand away and looks back in his eyes. Dutch: You realise that I went through three death matches? Three godforsaken deathmatches where I came out of as champion. LOOK AT MY FUCKING CAST! Dutch holds up his left arm, encased from wrist to elbow in plaster. Woodbridge: Uhh… isn’t that the wrong arm? Paisner: Shhh… details. Dutch: I am spent! My body is broken! But still, I could make you tap any day of the week. You are low, Dalidus. You couldn't beat a pig owner who thinks more about fucking that pig instead of wrestling. The crowd groans. Woodbridge: Pigs again? Paisner: I’m starting to think Dutch is as fixated on pigs as he is hills. Nova: Then do it! Prove that you’ve got some balls in those jeans, and fight me for the championship that everyone knows you never earned! Crowd: MARK’S A PUSSY! clap clap clapclapclap Dutch: What?!? WHAT?! I EARNED THIS! I EARNED EVERYTHING I’VE EVER HAD! YOU SON OF A BITCH! AND YOU KNOW WHAT? Crowd: WHAT!?? Dutch: I’ll do it! I’ll put the title on the line tonight! Crowd: WOOOOOOO! Dutch: ...on one condition. Woodbridge: Oh here we go. Dutch takes a moment to gather himself, smiling. Dutch: I’ll give you a shot at MY title. But, if you lose. No, WHEN you lose… you will never get another chance at the title for the rest of my run. Meaning… you will NEVER compete for this championship again. WHAT DO YOU SAY DALI?! YOU WANT THIS RIGHT?! DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO AND ACCEPT IT! YOU'RE A GOOD GUY, RIGHT?! GOOD GUYS NEVER BACK THE FUCK DOWN! I bet Tyler Dylan would have a better chance than you could.. Dalidus tongues his cheek, pondering the idea. Woodbridge: The opportunity is right in front of Nova. The chance to claim the biggest prize in the company. Paisner: But to risk it all tonight? Were Nova to defeat Dutch tonight, in a non-title match, he could just as easily make a claim to a World Title opportunity down the line without agreeing to this ludicrous stipulation. Crowd: Take the fight! Take the fight! TAKE THE FIGHT! TAKE THE FIGHT! Nova points his mic up to the crowd members, staring right at Mark, who stares back, title raised high in the air. Nova: You’re on, BITCH! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! NO-VA! NO-VA! Nova drops his mic and goes nose-to-nose with Mark, who still raises his title into the air. A smirk forms on the face of The Mark Dutch while he grins. Woodbridge: In the words of Ken Watanbe, “RET THREM FIGHT!” Paisner: Well, it’s confirmed! Tonights main event will not only be NO HOLDS BARRED, but it will be for the WiR WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP! The camera stays on the two men as we slowly fade on the shot of them. [COMMERCIAL PROMOTING NEW SEA SALT MENTHOL AND SPICY HAM FLAVORED BALLSWEAT! AVAILABLE FOR A LIMITED TIME] Javier stands in the middle of the ring while the outside is decorated with ladders on all four sides. Dangling from the ceiling above the ring is the WiR Independent Championship. Javier: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a LADDER MATCH, and it is for the WiR INDEPENDENT CHAMPIONSHIP! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAY! Run the Jewels hits the speakers and the crowd immediately starts to boo. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Santiago Martinez walks through the curtains with a sour look on his face, sporting a new pair of his signature fancy sneakers. Paisner: Martinez does NOT look like he’s in a good mood tonight, Mark. Woodbridge: Nobody is after losing a championship. But if we know Martinez, he’s already got some tricks up his sleeve for tonight to become a two-time Independent Champion! Paisner: Especially in a No Disqualifications environment like this ladder match, Beaumont has his work cut out for him if he wants to retain that title! Martinez hops over the top rope into the ring and starts making note of his environment, looking at each of the ladders and already starting to piece together in his mind how he’s going to use them. The energetic guitar riffs of Jake Beaumont’s theme hits the speakers the crowd goes bonkers. The newly crowned WiR Independent Champion walks through the curtains to an ovation from the crowd with a look of determination in his eyes. Woodbridge: I’m sensing a lot of nervous energy from Jake. Paisner: It’s a very tough task to have to defend your title just as soon as you won it. Jake hasn’t had that usual four week period to settle in as champ before having to defend it, which might affect his preparedness for a match like this. He goes straight to the ring while switching his focus from the title hanging above the ring to Martinez. Beaumont slides into the ring and sets himself up in the corner. Javier: Introducing first, the challenger, from Coral Gables, Florida; by way of Medellín, Colombia, weighing in at 214 pounds…SANTIAGO MARTINEZ! Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO! Javier: And his opponent, from Brady, Texas, weighing in at 195 pounds…HE is the WiR INDEPENDENT CHAMPION…JAKE BEAUMONT! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Officials Tai Ni Wong and Mia So Hung briefly go over the rules with the two opponents before calling for the match to start. DING DING DING Paisner: Here we go! Immediately after the bell rings, Martinez quickly slides out of the ring and goes straight for a ladder. Woodbridge: Martinez going right for that ladder! Paisner: Looks like Martinez isn’t planning on having this match too long! Woodbridge: Smart thinking. The faster you can win, the less damage on your body you have to deal with! Paisner: But at the same time, the more you rush, the sloppier you can be! Martinez grabs a ladder and Beaumont goes to exit the ring after him, but Martinez jabs the ladder at him while he’s in the ropes. Beaumont manages to grab the ladder and shove it back at Martinez, nailing him in the face with it. Martinez staggers backwards into the audience holding his jaw as Beaumont pulls the ladder into the ring, setting it up right under the WiR Independent Championship. Martinez slides back into the ring and clubs Beaumont from behind with a few forearm shots and smashes his head into the ladder. Martinez then grabs Beaumont by the scruff of the neck and spins him around, charging him up and throwing him head first into the ladder! Crowd: OOOOOOOOHHH! The ladder falls over and Martinez grabs Beaumont once again, hooking him up and nailing him with a snap suplex onto the fallen ladder! Paisner: Yikes! It didn’t take too long for these guys to start going for the big spots, did it? Woodbridge: Well the object of a Ladder Match is to get up that ladder and take the title. Doesn’t matter if you beat your opponent within an inch of his life or not. Grab the belt. Be the champion. As Beaumont holds his back and writhes in pain on top of the ladder, Martinez slides out of the ring and grabs another ladder. He gets back into the ring and leans the ladder up in the corner. He grabs Beaumont off the ground and puts him in a headlock. He points at the ladder and gives a sadistic smile to the crowd. Paisner: Oh no, what’s Martinez thinking here? Woodbridge: I don’t know, but whatever it is, I don’t think Beaumont is going to like it! Martinez charges Beaumont towards the ladder and goes for a running bulldog into the ladder, but Beaumont shoves him off at the last second and send him tailbone first into the ladder! Crowd: OOOOOOOOHH! Martinez slumps down to the bottom of the ladder upside down, his legs dangling above him. Beaumont runs to the other side of the ring and then charges back at Martinez, nailing him with a low running dropkick against the ladder! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOHHHHH! Woodbridge: Right to the head! Martinez slides out of the ring to recuperate and Beaumont grabs the ladder from the corner and sets it up in the middle of the ring. Beaumont starts to make the climb, but Martinez quickly slides back into the ring and grabs Beaumont from behind, trying to pull him down. Beaumont manages to shove him off and Martinez falls backwards onto the laid out ladder that he suplexed Beaumont on earlier, and Beaumont looks up at the title and then back down at Martinez. Paisner: Looks like a lightbulb just went off his Jake’s head! Beaumont carefully turns around on the ladder to face Martinez, and he leaps off with a frog splash! But Martinez rolls out of the way and Beaumont crashes ribs first into the ladder! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOHHH! Woodbridge: High risk, high consequences! While Beaumont holds his guts, Martinez quickly hops up to the top rope and waits for Beaumont to roll over onto his back. As soon as he does, Martinez nails him with a 450 splash onto the ladder! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Paisner: 450! Woodbridge: We said that Martinez was looking to end this one quick, but considering he just busted out a 450 onto a ladder, Martinez doesn’t seem to even want this match to last more than 10 minutes! Paisner: He wants to put Beaumont away as quickly as possible, even if it means hurting himself in the process! Martinez hunches over in pain as he staggers to his feet, feeling the impact of his own 450 splash. He scurries to the ladder and starts to make his way up the rungs, but Beaumont hastily gets back up and starts to climb the ladder from the same side as Martinez! Beaumont climbs onto Martinez’s back and tries to lock in a sleeper-hold to get him down, but Martinez slips out from under him and lands back on the mat. With Beaumont on the ladder, Martinez jumps up and goes for a reverse frankensteiner! But Beaumont holds onto the ladder and Martinez flips backwards and lands on his feet! Paisner: Beaumont blocks the Set-Up! Martinez comes back at Beaumont, but Beaumont nails him in the head with a back kick that sends him stumbling backwards! Beaumont starts to climb up again, but Martinez jumps back up and nails Beaumont with a backstabber off the ladder! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH! Woodbridge: Phantom Pain off the ladder! There’s no way that felt nice for Jake! Paisner: Probably didn’t feel too nice for Martinez’s knees either with how far Beaumont plunged down with him! Martinez quickly tosses Beaumont out of the ring and starts to make his way up the ladder, but his knees seem to have buckled under the impact of the backstabber and he is having trouble climbing up. About halfway up the ladder, Beaumont rolls back into the ring and Martinez lets out an expletive before hopping back off the ladder, clearly trying to brush off any pain he’s feeling in his knees. He lifts Beaumont up to his feet and nails him in the side of the head with a forearm which brings Beaumont to his knees. Beaumont shoves Martinez into the ladder, but Martinez just comes back and nails a kneeling Beaumont with a superkick! Crowd: OOOOOHHH! Paisner: Superkick! The lights go off in Beaumont’s eyes and he slumps to the ground, but Martinez is looking to take Beaumont out for good. Martinez hooks Beaumont up and lifts him up in a vertical suplex. Woodbridge: He’s going for the Eterna Primavera! However, Beaumont wriggles out and lands behind Martinez, stomping right on the back of his calf! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOHHHH! Woodbridge: Oh fuck, his leg just buckled! Martinez lets out a cry of pain and he holds his leg, and Beaumont grabs him and hits him with a shin breaker! Paisner: He’s targeting that leg! Beaumont doesn’t let go of Martinez and he locks in the Texas Cloverleaf! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Woodbridge: He’s wrenching it in! Beaumont squeezes the hold on as tight as possible while Martinez scratches and claws at the mat! Woodbridge: He’s gonna tear every muscle off that bone! Beaumont wrenches it in for about ten seconds before finally releasing the hold, knowing that he’s done as much damage to Martinez as he needs. Beaumont starts to slowly climb the ladder, shaking off all the pain in his body with each rung, but Martinez drags himself with his arms to the ladder pulls a rope from out of his trunks! Paisner: Martinez has a rope! Woodbridge: Wow, and here I was thinking he was just rocking a half-chub this whole time! Focused on the title, Beaumont doesn’t seem to notice that Martinez is tying a rope around the second rung of the ladder. Just as Beaumont is a finger-tip away from the title, Martinez rolls out of the ring and starts to pull the rope from the outside! Realizing that he is somehow getting farther away from the title, Beaumont looks backwards to see that Martinez is pulling the ladder down! Bracing himself at the last minute, Beaumont leaps off the ladder but gets crotched by the top rope! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH! Beaumont tumbles hard off the rope and down to the floor, where Martinez pulls himself up using a fan’s shirt. He smacks some feeling back into his legs and then picks Beaumont up, and in one fluid motion hits him with Death Valley Driver onto the hard gymnasium floor! Woodbridge: OH FUCK! Paisner: What a sickening thud! Martinez slowly makes it back up to his feet and rolls into the ring, looking completely exasperated. He grabs the ladder and sets it back up in the centre of the ring. He starts to make the climb, but only one his legs seem to be in commission. As he slowly drags himself up the ladder, Beaumont rolls back into the ring! Paisner: Beaumont’s back in this! Woodbridge: I don’t know about that, Allen, the champ still looks pretty shook! Martinez takes note of Beaumont’s presence and tries to climb up the ladder faster, but Beaumont grabs him by the bad leg and yanks him back down to the mat! Beaumont hooks him up for some Southern Hospitality, but Martinez slips out from behind and kicks Beaumont right in the dick! Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Woodbridge: Come on! Paisner: Martinez just played it low! Beaumont hunches over in pain and falls down to his knees, holding his nuts. Martinez looks around the ring to try and figure out how he can put the final nail in the coffin for Beaumont, and he spots the other ladder on the mat. Martinez grabs the ladder and lays it down in front of the set-up ladder. He grabs Beaumont and hangs his feet up on the third rung of the ladder, setting him up for a ladder-hung headlock driver into another ladder! Woodbridge: I think Martinez wants to flat-out murder Jake! Martinez goes for the headlock driver, but Beaumont manages to slip his legs free from the ladder and get his head out from Martinez’s grasp! Beaumont nails Martinez in the back of the head with a discus elbow! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOHHH! Beaumont follows it up with the Bedtime Story! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOHHHHH! Beaumont finishes it off by hitting Martinez with the BTX Bomb right onto the ladder! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Paisner: What a flurry from Beaumont! But can he capitalize? Beaumont starts to climb the ladder with much difficulty as the crowd cheers him on. Crowd: BEAUMONT! BEAUMONT! BEAUMONT! Paisner: He’s halfway up! However, right before he reaches the top, Martinez starts to struggle up the ladder on the other side! Beaumont tries to reach for the title before Martinez can make it all the way up, but Martinez gets to the top and starts pelting Beaumont with forearms to the face. Beaumont tries to fight back with some forearms of his own, but Martinez answers back by smashing the champ’s face into the ladder over and over again, busting his nose open! Woodbridge: Martinez is showing no mercy! With Beaumont a little bloody and dazed, Martinez puts himself under Beaumont and goes to back body drop him off the ladder, but Beaumont lands on his feet! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAY! Beaumont quickly recuperates and grabs Martinez from below, setting him up for a powerbomb! The crowd part like the Red Sea and Beaumont throws Martinez out of the ring with a running powerbomb into audience’s chairs! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH! Woodbridge: OH MY GOD! Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! Paisner: Martinez is out! Beaumont scurries back to the ladder, his victory all but certain, but about halfway up the ladder Martinez’s Goons come from the audience and start attacking him! Paisner: HIRED GOONS! Woodbridge: Hired goons? Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO! Woodbridge: Oh come on! Paisner: We knew Martinez had to have something up his sleeve, and it looks like he brought his cronies as insurance! The goons pull Beaumont off the ladder and as they lay into him with closed fists, one of them zip ties both of Beaumont’s hands to the side of the ladder! With Beaumont unable to move, the goons start laying into him even more, but DAVID HARVEY comes rushing down from the entranceway and slides into the ring! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Woodbridge: Here comes the cavalry! Harvey does his best to fight them off, but the goons overwhelm and soon he is on the ground being stomped on mercilessly. However, another familiar face emerges from the curtains and rushes down to the ring! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Paisner: Is that… Woodbridge: It is! SONNY CARSON is out here to make the save! Carson slides into the ring and starts fighting off the goons, and with a man on his side, Harvey is able to get up and start fighting them off as well! One-by-one, Carson and Harvey toss them all out of the ring and Carson goes to tend to the zip-ties on Beaumont’s wrists while Harvey charges across the ring and leaps over the top rope onto the goons with a tope con hilo! But all the goons catch Harvey mid-air! Paisner: They caught him! Seeing Harvey is caught, Carson immediately stops tending to the zip-ties and leaps up onto the top rope, diving down onto the goons with a top rope crossbody, wiping them all out! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! With Martinez’s goons, Harvey, and Carson all out at ringside, Beaumont tries to unbind himself from the ladder. However, a broken and beaten Martinez slides into the ring and starts to climb the ladder! Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Paisner: Oh no, Martinez is back up! Woodbridge: And Beaumont is still stuck to the ladder! Martinez looks around the ring as he climbs the ladder, seeing the bodies at ringside and looking down at Beaumont who is still struggling to free himself. He lets out a smirk before continuing his ascent, but suddenly he starts to feel the ladder rocking back and forth! Paisner: Look at Jake, he’s using his body to try and tip the ladder over! Beaumont sways his body side to side as Martinez pleads with him to stop, but after a few movements, the ladder tips over and Martinez falls off, falling back first right onto the ring post! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Woodbridge: HOLY FUCK! Paisner: HE JUST LANDED WITH THE SMALL OF HIS BACK ON THE RING POST! Woodbridge: I think we just watched a man get Christopher Reeve’d! Martinez lays across the ring post screaming in pain, looking like Prometheus sprawled out on the rock. While Beaumont took quite a tumble as well, the zip-ties managed to snap during the impact and Beaumont sets the ladder back up! With blood dripping down his face, Beaumont slowly climbs the ladder rung by rung. Martinez rolls off the ring post, hitting the apron on his way down as he falls to the arena floor, Beaumont reaches out and pulls the title down. Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! DING DING DING Paisner: He did it! Javier: Here is your winner at a time of 14:31…and STILL the WiR INDEPENDENT CHAMPION…JAKE BEAUMONT! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAY! A team of medics rush out to ringside to tend to Martinez as Carson and Harvey slide into the ring to celebrate with Beaumont. Beaumont gets down from the ladder with the title in hand and raises it to the crowd as Harvey lifts his other hand into the air. Paisner: It was a brutal match, but Beaumont was able to walk out of it STILL the WiR Independent Champion! Woodbridge: And Martinez… not so much. Paisner: Well, sometimes that’s what’s you get for being a grade A cunt. Beaumont and Harvey celebrate to the crowd as Carson takes a step back from the two. He focuses hard on Beaumont and Harvey, and as if someone flipped a switch in his head, his pupils dilate and he gets an uncanny valley expression. Suddenly, as Harvey turns around, Carson nails him with a superkick! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH! Paisner: Wait, what the hell! Woodbridge: Carson just super kicked David Harvey! Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Beaumont looks at Carson with complete shock, but Carson doesn’t even seem to be looking at anything, as if there’s nothing there in that head of his. Beaumont takes a few steps towards Carson. Beaumont: What the hell is wr– But Carson kicks him in the stomach and sets him up in between his legs, lifting him up and planting him headfirst into the mat with the Nova Driver! Paisner: Nova Driver! We haven’t seen that move in over a year! The crowd are all on their feet in shock. Carson just stands over both Harvey and Beaumont like an expressionless mannequin. Without dwelling on what he’s done, Carson grabs the WiR Independent Championship and looks down at it like Golem looking down at the ring. He feels the title with his hand and suddenly his eyes seem to flicker back and he shakes his head. He looks around at the fallen bodies of Harvey and Beaumont and he drops the title as if he were caught with a bag of drugs. His lip starts to tremble and he quickly rushes out of the ring and straight to the back. Woodbridge: What the hell just happened!? Paisner: I don’t know, but I don’t think Sonny could give you an answer either!
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