Wooden wall plaques decor

I need help deciding something, so I was bored, and I wrote kind of a Director script of an anime I also have an illustrator’s guide and a voice actor script, but the more I read it the more it sounds like a book. I was wondering if anyone could help me decide if I should turn it into a book or see if I should try to make it into a animated series if a Japanese company does not get involved if it is successful. and if anyone would donate to this “Anime” So here is the first episode, and or chapter. You can vote at the bottom.
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Scene 1: A Serene Morning - Masaru's Home
Setting: A cozy tatami-floored dining area with low tables and cushions. Soft morning light filters through sliding shoji doors, creating a peaceful ambiance. The room is adorned with minimalistic decorations that reflect a blend of traditional and modern Japanese aesthetics.
Characters: - Masaru Hiroshi: A young man in his late teens, radiating a calm and focused aura. He is dressed in casual attire, ready to start his day.

• Mom: Masaru's caring and nurturing mother. She moves gracefully, serving breakfast dishes that showcase the flavors of Japanese cuisine.
  
• Dad: Masaru's supportive and wise father. He wears a relaxed expression, engaging in conversation with his son.
  

Scene Description: The scene opens with Masaru entering the dining area, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea and the subtle fragrance of traditional Japanese breakfast dishes. He smiles warmly at his parents.
Masaru: (cheerfully) Good morning, Mom. Good morning, Dad.
Mom: (with affection) Ohayou gozaimasu, Masaru. Sit down, breakfast is ready.
Masaru takes a seat on a cushion, appreciating the spread of tamago (Japanese omelette), tsukemono (pickled vegetables), and miso soup on the table.
Mom gracefully gets up and reaches for the teapot, pouring steaming tea into Masaru's cup.
Dad: (casually) Masaru, have you decided what you'll be doing today?
Masaru: (thoughtfully) I'm considering helping Mrs. Tanaka with her garden. She could use an extra pair of hands.
Mom returns to her seat, her eyes filled with pride.
Mom: (supportive) That's wonderful, Masaru. Helping others is a true reflection of your character.
Dad: (nodding) Remember, son, the willingness to lend a hand cultivates empathy and strengthens our bonds with the community.
Masaru: (grateful) Thank you, Mom and Dad. Your guidance means the world to me. I'll make sure to assist Mrs. Tanaka to the best of my abilities.
They share a moment of shared understanding, savoring the tranquil morning and the comfort of their familial bonds.
Masaru finishes his breakfast, expressing his appreciation to his parents before preparing for the day ahead.
Masaru: (grateful) Thank you for the delicious meal, Mom. Thank you for your wise words, Dad. I'll see you both later.
End of Scene 1.
Scene two
Scene 2: Masaru's Morning Routine - A Day Begins
Setting: Masaru's bedroom, a reflection of his personality and interests. The room has a blend of traditional and modern elements, with minimalistic decor. The morning sunlight filters through the shoji screens, casting a gentle glow on the room.
Characters: - Masaru Hiroshi: The main character, a young and determined individual. He is dressed in comfortable pajamas, carrying his clothes for the day and wearing a robe. - Inu: Masaru's loyal and playful Shiba Inu dog. Inu looks up at Masaru with adoring eyes.
Scene Description: The scene opens in Masaru's serene bedroom. The room exudes a sense of tranquility, with light wooden flooring and sliding shoji screens allowing soft rays of morning sunlight to illuminate the space.
Masaru stands by his bed, a platform-style bed with a pristine white sheet. He is dressed in comfortable pajamas, the fabric loosely hugging his form. In his hands, he holds his clothes for the day, neatly folded and ready for wear.
With a determined yet calm expression, Masaru carefully selects his outfit, meticulously considering his choice. He slips out of his pajamas, revealing a glimpse of his physique, before smoothly sliding into his daytime attire.
Feeling refreshed from a good night's sleep, Masaru walks towards the en suite bathroom adjoining his room. The bathroom features a modern design, with clean lines and a glass-enclosed shower area.
Inside the shower, the warm water cascades over Masaru's body, rejuvenating him for the day ahead. The sound of water droplets creates a soothing ambiance, as he takes a moment to cleanse both his body and mind.
After his invigorating shower, Masaru steps out of the bathroom, steam lightly clinging to his skin. He reaches for a comfortable robe hanging by the door, slipping it on with a smooth motion. The soft fabric envelopes him, providing a sense of warmth and ease.
Returning to his bedroom, Masaru walks over to a corner of the room where Inu eagerly awaits him. He kneels down, gently petting the Shiba Inu's head, exchanging affectionate glances.
Masaru: (warmly) Take care, Inu. I'll see you later.
Inu barks softly, their bond evident in their connection.
With a sense of readiness, Masaru stands up, his gaze sweeping across the room to ensure he has gathered everything he needs for the day. A desk with a few books and a small shelf housing a collection of samurai figurines catch his eye momentarily.
Satisfied that he has all he requires, Masaru turns his attention towards the door. He takes a step forward, pausing briefly to appreciate the familiarity and comfort of his personal sanctuary.
Masaru walks out of his room and makes his way downstairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the hallway. As he descends, he catches glimpses of his parents in the living area, each engrossed in their morning routines.
Masaru: (casual) Mom. Dad.
Mom looks up from her activity, her face lighting up with a warm smile.
Mom: Masaru. Have a great day!
Dad glances up from his newspaper, his expression reflecting a mix of pride and support.
Dad: Take care, son. Make it count!
Masaru nods appreciatively, acknowledging their words of encouragement. He continues his stride towards the front door, a subtle determination in his step.
Closing the front door behind him, Masaru steps out into the world, greeted by the embrace of a new day. The possibilities stretch out before him, and he's ready to seize them with
Scene 3: Masaru's Serendipitous Discovery
[The scene begins with Masaru leaving his house, his destination being Mrs. Tanaka's garden, which lies beyond the city market. He walks along the familiar path, lost in his own thoughts.]
Masaru (muttering to himself): Alright, time to head to Mrs. Tanaka's garden. Gotta take this route through the market. Wonder what kind of chaos awaits me there today.
[As Masaru walks, he notices a side street veering off from the main path. Intrigued by the allure of the unknown, he decides to deviate from his usual route.]
Masaru: Huh, a different path this time. It seems less traveled, yet there's something enchanting about it. Let's see where it leads.
[He ventures down the narrow street, leaving behind the bustling sounds of the city market. The path meanders through a lush landscape, revealing a tranquil pond adorned with cherry blossom trees. A sense of peace envelops Masaru as he gazes in awe at the breathtaking beauty before him.]
Masaru (whispering to himself): A hidden gem amidst the hustle and bustle—a peaceful pond embraced by cherry blossoms. Its serene atmosphere captivates my senses, drawing me further into its charm.
[In the heart of the pond, a small bamboo forest emerges, creating a magical scene that feels like a secret sanctuary. Masaru stands in awe, marveling at the harmony between the delicate cherry blossoms and the sturdy bamboo stalks, as if nature itself has crafted a wondrous masterpiece.]
Masaru (amazed): Such a beautiful combination of grace and strength. How is it that this hidden oasis remains undiscovered by so many? It's like stepping into a realm untouched by the chaos beyond.
[As he walks along the path surrounding the pond, Masaru's sharp instincts guide him towards a rare and elusive creature—a magnificent rabbit with fur as white as freshly fallen snow. With his exceptional stealth and agility, Masaru silently approaches the rabbit, capturing it with impressive dexterity.]
Masaru (whispering to the rabbit): Your elegance matches the serenity of this hidden pond. Allow me to admire your presence for a brief moment.
[Examining the rabbit in his hands, Masaru takes in the intricate patterns of its fur, the gleam in its eyes, and the gentle rise and fall of its breathing. His admiration for the creature grows as he realizes the rarity of such an encounter.]
Masaru (in awe): The world holds its breath when you appear, a living testament to nature's beauty. I am grateful to have crossed paths with you.
[With great care, Masaru releases the rabbit back into the freedom of the surrounding landscape. As it bounds away, disappearing into the lush foliage, Masaru smiles, his heart filled with gratitude for the connection he shared with the creature.]
Masaru (grateful): Farewell, my exquisite friend. May your journey be filled with endless wonder and the allure of unexplored paths.
[Inspired by his encounter with the rabbit and the hidden wonders of the pond, Masaru continues his journey towards the city market, anticipation filling his heart. He moves forward, eager to uncover the stories and encounters that await him in the vibrant marketplace.]
Masaru (determined): The city market beckons, a realm of vibrant energy and untold tales. But the memory of this hidden sanctuary will forever be etched in my mind—a testament to the extraordinary wonders that lie just beyond the beaten path.
Scene 4: The City Market
[INT. CITY MARKET - DAY]
Masaru finally arrives at the bustling city market. The atmosphere is lively, filled with colorful stalls, chattering merchants, and the aroma of various foods. He walks through the market, nodding and waving to familiar faces, engaging in small talk with store owners.
MASARU Morning, Mr. Suzuki! How's business today?
MR. SUZUKI Masaru! Good to see you, my boy. Business is steady, thanks for asking. Say, have you seen those new spices I brought in?
MASARU Oh, I haven't checked them out yet, but I'll swing by later. They must be quite something!
Masaru continues his leisurely stroll through the market, enjoying the vibrant sights and sounds. He passes by a fruit stand and strikes up a conversation with the FRUIT MERCHANT.
MASARU Good morning! Those peaches look juicy today. How are they selling?
FRUIT MERCHANT Masaru, my friend! These peaches are flying off the shelves. Can't resist their sweetness. Want to try one?
MASARU Sure, I'll take one. Takes a bite Mmm, delicious as always.
As he walks further, he spots a SHOE VENDOR arranging a display of colorful shoes.
MASARU Morning! Any new styles in stock?
SHOE VENDOR Masaru, my man! Just got these sleek leather boots. Want to give them a try?
MASARU Maybe next time. They look impressive, though.
Masaru continues his journey through the bustling market, exchanging greetings and engaging in short conversations with various merchants. Their words blend with the lively ambiance, creating a tapestry of voices and activity.
As he walks, Masaru catches sight of a signpost indicating the direction to Mrs. Tanaka's garden. The familiarity of the garden tugs at his heart, reminding him of past visits filled with enchantment and tranquility.
MASARU (to himself) Ah, Mrs. Tanaka's garden... Always a haven of beauty and wonder.
With a renewed sense of excitement, Masaru quickens his pace, eager to reconnect with the serenity that awaits him in the familiar garden.
[END OF SCENE]
Scene 5: The Garden Conversation
[Setting: Mrs. Tanaka's Garden. Masaru enters the garden, greeted by the serene beauty and Mrs. Tanaka's warm presence. They sit down at a small table with cups of tea.]
Mrs. Tanaka: [Smiling warmly] Masaru, my dear, before we start working, let's take a moment to enjoy some tea together. So, have you given any thought to what you want to do for your future career?
Masaru: [Sipping his tea, thoughtful] To be honest, Mrs. Tanaka, I'm still unsure. There are so many possibilities, but none of them feel quite right. I've been volunteering to explore different paths, but I know that volunteering doesn't bring money.
Mrs. Tanaka: [Nodding understandingly] Ah, the practical side of things. It's true that we need to consider financial stability as well. However, let me share a different perspective with you. Money is important, but it should not be the sole measure of our success or fulfillment.
Masaru: [Curious] What do you mean?
Mrs. Tanaka: Volunteering may not bring immediate financial rewards, but it can enrich your life in other ways. It helps you develop skills, gain valuable experiences, and build connections with people who share your passions. Sometimes, the true value of a career lies in the impact we make and the joy it brings to our lives.
Masaru: [Contemplative] I've never thought about it that way. I've always been focused on finding a career that brings financial stability, but maybe there's more to it than just money.
Mrs. Tanaka: [Encouragingly] Indeed, Masaru. Follow your heart, pursue what brings you joy and fulfillment. Remember, a fulfilling career is a combination of your passions, values, and the positive impact you can make in the world.
[They continue their conversation over tea, delving deeper into Masaru's interests, dreams, and aspirations, as the tranquil garden surrounds them with its beauty and wisdom.]
Scene 6: The Garden
[The scene is set in Mrs. Tanaka's garden, where Masaru and Mrs. Tanaka are working together, collecting Kubocha squash. They have a pile of squash beside them. They both pause for a moment, catching their breath.]
Mrs. Tanaka: [Wiping her forehead] Ah, the Kubocha squash harvest is coming along nicely, Masaru. Your help is greatly appreciated.
Masaru: [Smiling] It's my pleasure, Mrs. Tanaka. I'm glad to be of assistance.
[They both resume their work, collecting more squash, their movements synchronized.]
Mrs. Tanaka: [Breaking the silence] Masaru, may I ask you a question?
Masaru: [Curious] Of course, Mrs. Tanaka. What's on your mind?
Mrs. Tanaka: [Thoughtful] Do you know what you want to do for your future career? Have you discovered your true calling yet?
Masaru: [Pausing, contemplating] Honestly, Mrs. Tanaka, I'm still uncertain. I haven't found my path yet.
Mrs. Tanaka: [Nodding] I understand. Sometimes, finding one's purpose can be a challenging journey. But let me tell you about one of my grandchildren. He's grown up to become one of the world's greatest swordsman.
Masaru: [Surprised] A swordsman? That sounds incredible. But how does one become a swordsman?
Mrs. Tanaka: [Smiling warmly] It's not just about swinging a blade, Masaru. It's a path of discipline, dedication, and protection. As a swordsman, you learn to wield a blade with precision and skill, defending what you hold dear.
Masaru: [Intrigued] I never thought of it that way. Tell me more.
Mrs. Tanaka: [Eagerly] Being a swordsman means more than just fighting. It's about protecting your beliefs, your village, and the people you care about. It requires physical strength, mental fortitude, and a strong sense of justice.
Masaru: [Absorbing the information] That's fascinating. But where would I even start?
Mrs. Tanaka: [Encouraging] I'm glad you're interested, Masaru. I happen to know the best swordsman master in history, renowned for his wisdom and skill. If you're willing, I can arrange a meeting for you. He can guide you on this incredible journey and teach you the ways of the sword.
[They continue working, picking up more squash, but now there's a sense of anticipation and excitement in the air.]
View Poll

We already know there are easter eggs in the game that haven’t been discovered yet, and given how complex the hidden door in 1-3 was to unlock, I bet the others are similarly hidden. To get that one, you had to trade Ceramic Coins found in the Fractured World to Sparkly the Crow- so what if Sparkly has already given us another hint?
The Ring of Uneven Scales is a remake only item that you also get from Sparkly by trading a Gold Coin. It has a description that makes me a little suspicious..
“A traveler's ring bearing an engraving of a tilted scale. Raises maximum item burden, but lowers maximum equip burden. This ring attracts those seeking fortune who also wish to avoid conflict.”
There’s two NPCs I could imagine this could apply to: Patches and Scirvir. In the game, Patches’ dialogue after beating three archstones hints at armor and weapons hidden in the Swamp of Sorrows. And hey, guess what the another ring added to the remaster is for? The Sodden Ring. It’s description?
“An artifact from another land. Grants higher mobility in deep water. This ring grants freedom of movement even in the murkiest of waters, but does not remove other dangers.”
So we have two rings, both new additions to the remaster. One is obtained with a new Gold Coin item from Sparkly the Crow, the other is found in the swampy marshes in 3-2. The Sodden Ring is decorated with scales ad has a fish on its crest, and the Ring of Uneven Scales has a tilted scale on its crest. “Scales” in particular seem to be a theme with these two items, and I’m suspicious that this is a clue. But there’s another item associated with scales in the game that is conveniently found in the Swamp of Sorrow: the Mirdian Scale Armor. Here’s its description:
“White metal armour with an inner layer of scale, issued to knights who serve as temple guards. The first temple was built in Mird, a land that fell long ago. Its weight significantly slows stamina regeneration.”
So, could the Sodden Ring have the same origin as the Mird Armor set? Could Mird actually be the mysterious sixth archstone, a land that fell long ago? Hang on, isn’t there an NPC who hails from a far away land, and is also seeking fortune and avoiding conflict?
“You nearly frightened me to death! Creeping up on me like that… My name is Scirvir. I seek treasures of the unknown. I'm impressed you've come this far.”
Scirvir the Wanderer appears in 2-2 in PWWT only, and his dialogue hints at treasures you haven’t yet found. One of these is the Dragon Bone Smasher, also found in world 2 on PWWT at Scrivir’s urging:
“I would search for it myself, but I'm afraid I'd fare poorly against the Demons.”
Scales, treasure-seeking wanderers hiding in caves to avoid conflict, lost sets of armor in the Swamp of Sorrows hinted at by the other treasure-seeking, conflict avoidant NPC, and a scale-themed armor set sold by yet another treasure seeker in the swamp.
But I think there might be one more layer to this set of clues. Scirvir also mentions a temple:
“There is a temple beyond here, below the ground. It is a work of art, molded by the ancient burrowers to appease the bones of dragons.”
The Mirdian Scale Armor hinted that it was worn by temple guards, and though the original was in a far away land, Scirvir knows enough about the temple of the Dragon God to tell you about the Dragon Bone Smasher despite not being from Boletaria. AND Scirvir has one final clue to drop, literally. In PBWT, his black phantom drops the Talisman of Beasts.
“An old wooden amulet featuring a symbolic depiction of the Old One. Can be used to cast both miracles and magic. What was considered a depiction of God was in fact an image of the Old One, portrayed as a force of feral chaos.”
I think this might be enough to conclude that Scirvir hails from Mird, that he has knowledge of the Dragon Bone Smasher because the temple in Mird was dedicated to the Old One mentioned in the Talisman of Beasts description, and that possibly multiple guards of that temple may have also been seeking a treasure of some kind in the swamps of Boletaria, since we find their remains in not just one but TWO swampy areas: the Sodden Ring in the marshes of 3-2, and the scavenged armor sold in 5-2. Patches is also shrewdly aware of this treasure, but besides directing the player to its most likely location in 5-2, he himself doesn’t know where it is. The Ring of Uneven Scales and the Mirdian Scale Armor might also be dropping another clue: the armor is a “white metal armour with an inner layer of scale”, and the scales on the ring are literal scales for measurement. Is this a hint that the treasure can only be found by someone in a White World/Character Tendency?
Sure, this could exclusively apply to the Dragon Bone Smasher- but the remake only-item descriptions have me suspecting that another treasure in 5-2 might exist. There is one location in the Swamp of Sorrows that I strongly suspect might be hiding something, based on another remake-only item description, but I can’t tie it to this other item yet. I’m going to try to get PWWT on my next playthrough and test it out, but I really think there might be something there. We have confirmation of four items added to the remaster that haven’t been discovered yet, so if there are clues in the game, I think these items are the strongest contenders.

Here's a list of some of my favorite lesser known Canadian artists...(feel free to add some of yours) In no particular order..
Tobias Jesso Jr, Andy Shauf, Ruby Waters, Half Moon Run, The Barr Brothers, Plants and Animals, Peach Pit, Alan Rayman, Chad Vangaalen, Klaatu, Feist, Mac DeMarco, The Tragically Hip, The Alvvays, Bahamas, Destroyer, Devin Townsend, Broken Social Scene, Caribou, Wolf Parade, Timber Timbre, Tuns, The Wooden Sky, BADBADNOTGOOD, Godspeed! You Black Emperor, Wintersleep, Ancient Engines, Hey Rosetta!, Hayden, An Acoustic Sin, Great Lake Swimmers, Corridor, Dan Mangan, Eric's Trip, Colter Wall, The Weakerthans, Harmonium (french band), Matt Mays, Elliott BROOD, Limblifter, Joel Plaskett, The Rural Alberta Advantage, The Lowest Of The Low, Rheostatics, 1755 (french band), Sloan, Stompin' Tom, Karkwa (french band), Les Colocs (french band), Said The Whale, Tokyo Police Club, Matt Anderson, Propagandhi, Julie Doiron

Welcome to the New World Toro paper covered wooden cigar box. A simple lightweight box that hearkens back to a time of explorers and open possibilities. The box makes for a great gift and can be fashioned into many useful or decorative items for around the home, office, or studio!
Measures 6.5" x 6.25" x 3"
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVWMBJKS?ref=myi\_title\_dp
#fathersday #giftbox #giftideas #diygift #diyart #decor #amazon #ebay

I’m wondering if edutoys are actually really helpful. I’ve an almost 6 month old and I don’t have any light up flashy toys. I have the kick and play piano that she likes to play with her hands now and lots of other toys to keep her engaged and to work on her motor skills. I’m wondering if she’s missing out. She is getting a little bored at home. But I don’t want to buy a noisy flashy toy for the sake of entertainment. She doesn’t get any screen time, unless she peeps at our phones when we’re using them briefly around her, not videos just sending a text or googling something quickly or taking a pic of the cutest baby in town 🤣. Ah but we facetime family at the weekend. She goes to nursery 3 days a week and nursery send pics each day of her playing with nearly every toy they have (ball pit, walker (the front part), playing with things on a bead maze, playing with different activity tables (the hard plastic ones that play music and make sounds etc), looking at the fish tank, looking at other decorations they have on the walls, and she sits in on older kids activities too sometimes). She’s the youngest baby in there so she gets special attention I suppose. I feel like she gets so much stimulation in there but then is lacking at home. But then sometimes she’s overstimulated at home (I think) and I just bring her to her cot so she can relax and calm down once or twice during the day when it’s not time to sleep for 10/15 minutes. I don’t know if they do that in nursery, they just tell me she was so tired from a busy day so she took a nap. I feel like they move her around so much but I can’t do that much at home. She absorbs everything, if I rearrange something (example I moved her books around to a new spot and she stared at them for ages because it was different, this was at about 4 months old) she’ll notice the next time she sees it and she’ll study it for a few minutes because it’s different. What a ramble! Anyway I think she needs a toy with lots of functions to keep her engaged for a while but I don’t know what to get. Yes, I read to her, yes I play with her, yes I talk to her, yes I sing to her, yes she watches me do chores and “helps” with folding the laundry (plays with the laundry basket), yes we go out for walks. Somedays I feel like I need to go out with her for every wake window but I’ve stuff to do at home so my max is usually twice 😫 she loves going out, new places, old places, in the car, in the stroller, loves seeing people (I do not 😅😅😅). I would babywear her at home when she was smaller but she’s too big and too interested in touching everything now to be contained in the carrier. What to do? I want to buy all the toys in the world but don’t have the money or space to do that. Before she was born I was really into montessori but that stuff is expensive so I have some montessori elements to my parenting and some toys but it’s mixed with being practical. Actual Montessori is too extreme for me.

The Ephiri trees rustle in the breeze. As two boys fight, surrounded by onlookers, the clacking of their wooden swords fill the air. One of the twins was Ferrum, who was born blind and given prosthetic eyes to see. The other was Atrox, a boy quick to anger, and stronger than all the others their age. Ferrum stepped to the side of his brother's attack, using his momentum to trip him. Atrox fell to the ground, turning and staring at his brother with a competitive rage. His brother's eyes glowed with a mismatched colored glee.
“I believe I won, unless you would like to try again?”
Atrox grumbled as Ferrum offered his brother a hand up, he refused and as his brother turned to leave the arena, Atrox pounced. Having transformed into a wolf, onlookers gasped in surprise. Ferrum threw the wolf off his back, and he- accepting the challenge- turned to a wolf himself. The brothers circled the arena, snarling. Atrox covered in a thick black fur, and Ferrum covered in a dark reddish brown fur, both marked with a single silver streak. The brothers charged at each other, as they pounced to continue their fight, a man stepped between them and separated them. It was their trainer, a man named Fridur. Fridur was a tall, round man. The man was the town tinker, and the last man anyone expected to be a warrior or a trainer of warriors, or a father. The brothers returned to their human forms and stood before their teacher.
“Do either of you realize the danger you put everyone in? Not just yourselves, but the rest of the village!”
The brothers protested in return, “what do you mean? We were just having some fun!” Their teacher gave a large sigh, before leading the boys back home. That night the brothers and their teacher were sitting at the table in their longhouse, the warm light reflecting in Fridur's glasses, the boys quietly watching their teacher, mess with spare gears from various projects. “When I brought you two in, it was with hopes to keep you safe, revealing your curse makes that difficult;” the parent said. “It's getting late, and you both have duties for the festival tomorrow, we'll talk more tomorrow.” As the brothers went to their room, with more questions about how they were cursed, why their father made it seem like they were adopted, and what danger was after them.
As the boys began to rest, they could feel the cool breeze blow through their window, the dire wolves barking in the distance, the wravyns cawing in the trees. The smell of hel-flowers (a small flower characterized by petals that look kin to ice crystals), muspel-blooms (a flower that glows and flickers like a never ending flame), and gold berries fill the air from the nearby alchemist. The leaves of the Woodbine and Ootros trees gently rustle in the wind. The boys laid in their beds thinking of their questions. Fridur was a good man, and the whole village admired him; but everyone was curious, how a man who never had a spouse, suddenly had two baby boys. Now the village wondered where these cursed children, that they've cared for, for 12 years came from. Fridur knew who their real father was, he was content to hide it from his adopted children, just a little longer.
That extra time he wanted, was now quickly depleting. Fridur went to his room late that night, such concern that he felt, was only felt by those who knew they were now being watched. The tinker sat in the chair in his room, staring out the window. The man prayed to Eshe for the forgiveness of the boys, prayed for the protection of the village, and the boys, and prayed for protection from the father of the boys.
These prayers would be proven futile.
The dawn broke the shroud of night and the village began to wake from their tree huts, mound homes, and longhouses. The boys and Fridur went out into the golden morning. Ferrum grabbed his bow and knife, and headed towards the gate of the town, passing the market and the village circle. Atrox grabbed his axe and headed to gather wood for the festival, and Fridur's house. The tinker of the village went to his shop, creating toys for the village children, tools for trades folk, machines for all purposes on Ephiri, and wood carvings for the temples.
This village was named after High King Gulli. Gulli Whitemane was the last of the high kings before the Heretical Wars, and he was the first of the high kings, to be cursed with all that afflicted the leaders of the system. As high king, the guardians felt the blame rested on the position of high king the most, as he did not succeed in trying to stop the heresy of the mortals. The village of Gulli, ironically, became the most famous for tributes to Eshe, the festival became famous both on Ephiri and amongst the other planets. Eshe priests from all over would come and preach to the people, tell stories of the glory of the goddess, sing songs, and feast. An effigy of the heretical king would then be burnt, along with effigies of the leaders of each planet who rose against the gods in heresy.
The golden leaves lightly covered the ground as the smell of roasted cow and hog filled the air. Ferrum arrived back at the village gates with a sled full of rabbit and headed to the butcher with his game.
“Ah, the valiant hunter returns with plenty for all,” exclaimed the butcher. “Tell me, how do you catch so many?”
“I used the snare traps you gave me, do you think it's enough?” The boy asked the kind old man, who answered the question with a smile and a nod, before walking to the back to get to work.
Atrox brought his sled of wood and divided it between the stack of wood for the festival and the stack of wood behind Fridur's house. The effigy weavers look at the young dark haired boy with a shy gratitude, the village respected the boys, but after their sparing match the other day, the people were afraid of what this festival will bring. For years the festival had gone without problems, however, this was different, the twins, who had been in the village for over a decade showed that the village had been hiding those cursed for heresy. Now to us, the sins of the father should not be put upon the sons, however heresy is such a heinous sin in Vestige, and the curses of the bloodlines was seen as the passing of sins from parent to child. Those cursed by the gods served as an example of how powerful and truthful the gods are.
The sun began to set, the people gathered in the amphitheater of the village to celebrate the festival. The effigy weavers brought their works to the center of the stage. The priest from the Ephiri capital, Gullna Konan, took the stage to tell a story of Eshe. Atrox and Ferrum sat in the back of the amphitheater, the boys had sat through this festival every year, but never before did they feel so far from those they had known their entire lives. Fridur had not arrived at the festival, and it was about to be time for him to show off the idol of Eshe he spent the last year making. The youngest of the three village shamans, who was the same age as the boys, made her way to the twins. Climbing the steps in a fashion as to not distract the audience. Once she arrived at the twins, she asked them to find their adoptive father, so that the idol could be presented to the priest from the capital.
The boys agreed and got up to find Fridur, the twin full moons lit the night sky with just enough for Atrox to see, his brother having less struggles as his eyes could see in the dark with ease, and glowed softly their mismatched colors. No sounds were heard in the village besides the singing and stories from the amphitheater, the street braziers were dark, the ootros trees did not even rustle. The twins come upon the tinker shop, its lights on, the doors and windows shut, Ferrum and Atrox cautiously peer in through a crack in the shutters.
Between the small crack and the idols, it was hard to tell how many there was, was it three? Four? The brothers counted a total of five figures in their father's shop, four of which wore dark armor, with shinning gold accents, and a sigil of four colored orbs surrounding a central, glowing teal orb.
“Come now Fridur, let's get this over with so you can enjoy the festival,” one figure pleaded.
“I told you already, those boys are perfectly normal, I should know, they are my sons!” Replied a frustrated Fridur
The figure who had been speaking, paced the floor before walking to the window the boys had been peering through.
“We would like to meet your sons, is all. We've heard they are quite 'gifted' and think they'd be perfect to fight competitively.”
“Not on my life would I allow them to fight in his damned arena, you bloodthirsty Igniean,” silence fell over the room as the figure turned around walked back to the tinker, and grabbed him by the throat.
“You ignorant fool, we'll see your sons and judge for ourselves, Kanshu, take this man to the capital, to talk to Lord Mendax about his remarks.”
A taller, bulkier figure walks behind Fridur, tying his hands behind his back, while the two other sigil wearers drew symbols in the air forming a gateway and filling the air with a weird frequency. The tinker and Kanshu walked through the gateway with one of the gateway makers follows and closes the gateway behind them. The two figures left in the shop, started heading towards the door to find the boys. Ferrum and Atrox ran back to the festival yelling the entire way. The celebrators paused as they came running to the stage to tell the capital priest what had just happened. Celebrators listened in horror as they heard of the arrest of their tinker, the figures from the shop arrived at the amphitheater, seeing the twins and running down the stairs after them. The capital priest put himself in between the sigil wearers and the boys. The figures stopped, staring at the priest with their weapons drawn. The figure who had spoke in the shop, had dark hair with golden beads decorating the ends, grey eyes and soot covered skin. The gate maker wore a white veil with gold embroidery, and had the figure of a gentle mother, and the air of a sea's breeze.
“Who put you to this plan, arresting the father of these boys?” The priest asked.
“That is none of your business, priest. We came to meet those boys, and their 'father' got in the way. Now if you will stand aside, we have business to attend to.”
The priest stood firm, keeping the boys out of reach of the two individuals, determined to protect them in the name of Eshe. Silence befell the crowd as they watched, before a gasp of horror, as the ashen man struck down the priest with his sword. As the priest fell, Atrox transformed and pounced at the ashen man, and Ferrum grabbed the priest's dagger, charging at the woman. The crowd stood in shock as Ferrum slashed the veil off the woman leaving a cut across her face. She knocked the glowing eyed boy back as the ashen man gained hold of the boy turned wolf. The two looked at each other, looked at Ferrum, and disappeared through a gateway.
Atrox was gone. Ferrum was devastated, he had just lost his father and teacher, watched a priest get struck down at a holy festival, almost got kidnaped and lost his brother. For the first time in his life, his eyes shone the same color. Red. His anger and heartache combined and he transformed himself into a wolf, howling at the moon before darkness clouded his vison, and he collapsed before the crowd.

ady made me do physical work and called me a bitch when it hurt. I remember this lady used to tell teachers they are allowed to hit me if I misbehaved. I remember this lady used to Starve me at times when I apparently misbehaved. I remember this lady used to hit me all the time and throw me into dishwashers. Washers and dryers. Used to throw me into walls and windows. Used to break wooden and metal materials across me butt. Used to make me eat whatever she made no matter if I was allergic and if I was to throw it up or throw it out I had to eat the puke or eat it out of the trash. She used to say crazy stuff like I’ll cut your throat or I’ll feed you to the cats or I’ll make you eat your hands or cut off your fingers etc etc. I could go on but now she’s early 60s overweight and half blind with uncared for diabetes with a phone addiction and doesn’t sleep. I have a 7 yr old nephew that she tries to treat the same way and when she does I tell her whatever you do to him I’ll do to you. I don’t care for her, when she dies I feel like I’ll be sad but also free. My sister takes her side and tells me to just be the bigger man but if my sister wasn’t around I would have no contact with my mother and have her lice on the street. Is it elder abuse to treat your parents the same way they treated you???

Hello all!
We experienced some water in our basement during a strong downpour a few weeks ago. We have started tearing things apart and based on the state of the studs, we believe there has been a slow leak for a while.
We had professionals fix the cracks in our foundations, and were thinking of getting an handy man to replace some of the wooden studs.
Just wondering in everyone’s opinion if need to replace all of the wood, or if we can just sand it down?
Additionally the first picture shows how the external wall is setup, for insulation, should we staple typar wrap to the studs, put the insulation in, then use the plastic wrap material that would be next to the drywall?
Thanks in advance everyone!
https://imgur.com/a/LuXJE6z

I (42M) jinxed myself and my wife (39F) big time today. We typically go out with the kids (3M, 3M, 2F) to eat Sunday afternoons and did so today. For the past year we've rarely gone to restaurants that don't have some kind of game area, but today my wife wanted to do Red Robin. I said without thinking, "That's fine. The boys are no longer trying to run through the kitchen of every restaurant we go to." You can probably imagine what happened next. While they didn't try and run through the kitchen the ran back and forth on the extended booth, ripped balloons off the wall, and tried to throw them through a pass through/decorative window. Every time the waitress came they had a bout of acting up and I never got a second helping of bottomless fries. Everytime I looked around the Red Robin I saw all the other kids in there sitting down and behaving. I just wanted to confirm it's every parent thinks their kids are the worst.

I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.
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