#*holds up my girl up to those supermarket tv cameras*

[sirjustice259-blog]

The Brick of many cities fall

I know how to dance, as 1 woman was caught saying she hates kebi kiddish dance, dancing like kangaroo, women its just this way like, kinda, on his tip toe and the hands swinging on air. Najua kudance danshi- Read between the lines bro

Port of Mombasa will be no more cause it serves the hinterland like Uganda, Congo, Rwanda and Burundi, where such goods as machine parts heavy, phones, Home appliances and farming machines including fertilizer forms the bulk of imports as well as electric accessories like bulbs and switches which if every nation has learnt to make the same such exports and imports atrophies as Uganda exports are mined minerals like copper to China and Japan which know they know how to make artificially and including soda ash and gold. So it can handle like 10% of the originally handle goods as same to its profit portfolio to cut on jobs on port and on trucks carrying such to reduce driver and off-loading crew jobs. Mombasa and coast will be no-more bearing the fact of E-cargo drone explained below. As those nations who will have the day are of few population when they have learnt to make what they used not produce

Moch and Mag kikamaki, nisikushike, let me not caught u up, u will get to know me, i have given ya 1/10 and even Robinson and Minaj, i will be looking at ya with 1 eye wide opened while my thing not out, will be out as only 1 inch out of the 15 Cm whole part as vigorously i will be on ya top like the needle bar of charani b4 i get out altogether, changing my twist as reaching 4 places u know not as hitting this side and that side as the pussy corners, down and up parts b4 i change my mind and hit the middle now almost removing the whole my thing but not yet, until i hurl my thick lower saliva into ya thing- thup thup thup yaani mala tatu to rest on ya until u push me away all my back and booty laden not with moisture but sweet to affirm i have missed such a thing with ya. Girl cheers as we will be giving into cry as if a hen cut on the throat 1st given chance to do the same awaiting full metamorphosis of such process above

Kinda, when all dubious ways to every nation is blocked and reality surface so they dont continue doing their absurdities like with Kid/mother DNA results, you see a hand of some1 like kebi trying to push the likes of rude dignitaries like Trumputin, may, obama and any fellow doing the same as above to stop or stay away when nearing a cliff lest they fall and die or break their appendages. This signal Russia saying they got big land to bar other dubious nations from reaching the same to below the earth crust to destroy it or use it against humanity as explained below and they have to cheat the world with circumnavigation history to delude them not to undertake such motives as keep them in the dark as well as with they could dig oil and hell lands from below to bring us repercussions as now we know but alas the dredger is handy, can do that even in their lands to reach yours but luck we are we got the WiFi camera and cabled camera to check the same. So they must stop as the link of this song guide us dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QF2KMl5q3jI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVQUS1SqPvM

Houses and premises above that can be targeted as well can have the above cameras below the crust at a fee or b4 building the same, u place alarm wires and high electric or alarm system that if the metallic shaft of the dredger touches sound the alarm to alert u of such activities bellow ya business or home to let the intruder know that now they are off guard with their Jew/Egyptian thing dude.To signal defeat and acceptance to let every1 live the way they wanna. As well as u see 1 pick op a knife or cocking up a gun when they have refused to hearken in an argument like u cant eat in my house as a grown up 4rever as they marshal up against ya as their Safcom hope now dashed as Ghana got their hub-tell which soon every nation like Nigeria, Uganda, Tanzania, SA, Rwanda, will soon talk to the Devil and make their own synonymous with their smartphones, motorbikes, cars and pay Tv as well as internet, meaning the profit of Safcom from those nations will decrease dramatically to reduce their profitability and thus the hiccup and relent to the free-loving things like trukana blooded.

Another they say they are Norwegian as Norwegian economy is at stake as artificial cooking gas has been explained how to be made so such customers will buy theirs as much as artificial fish to those who eat such not frequently as their eating habits monitored per customers, perpetual buyers given the caught 1 cause they can complain of bad teeth to stop buying to cut on their profits synonymous with hot made artificial tea. Dude got to be wide minded and accept people to know about this rather u will tell the world nothing as this is not out of despising people as many do. They are late in the exam yet want to pass as much as u ought to, the white-men, wamechelewa yuaani kumenuka bro, fya, In-fact in SA they are told Canada still big they can go to bro and those few black under the same threat or Australia dude

Tongue tied as MoMo Nigeria mobile money in the link below if Kenyan Safcom was opting 4 that, got to think twice as well as Senegalese owned 1 and all African nations with Mobile money platform or presences as well in the down most link

https://www.africanews.com/2019/08/29/mtn-nigeria-officially-launches-mobile-money-operations//

https://www.fintechfutures.com/2020/04/free-senegal-migrates-to-comviva-to-boost-mobile-money-offering/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/African_MobileMoney

Can i get to a cyber and pay like 2 dimes so they open 4 me a tumblr a/c with guessed email more than 40 characters and provide known password so if i place the truths of sirjustice199 and logs off, instead of coming to me to disturb that u wanna delete, that fellow who did that is at liberty to do the same as he has the password and email to open from the 1 given above. I just copy paste in his vicinity to pass a message home of what do you want with me as the shaft that can cut across the earth is handy with the areas the building falls like banks, supermarkets, homes below got WiFi camera to monitor the dubious act u are championing while the bank itself atrophies as handy with the phones that u can swipe cards and pay online as cash can just be imaginary points as moneys inside ya bank whereas in reality the same liquid cash exists not to bar fully the dubious act of getting to bank floors to still at nigh using the dredger explained above

Some say with artificial cooking oil elongating ya back head as kisogo, u can use the deep birth cream/shampoo if u got money to return it back, a gimmick to create markets 4 such with Britain explained how they make such using cut flowers b4 selling them back again to countries where they bought the raw material from priding themselves to be rich synonymous with garbage collected cereals gimmicks explained below. Rather go 4 the grain and make ya own oil as even displayed in the chain-store can have like 10% of the artificial 1 which if bought en-mass also just forms much dubious profits facilitating vices explained above in sirjustice199. Rather go 4 the mini-oil crusher machine and buy the grain straight from the market dude as in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=deep+birth+bathing+shampoo+bottle+imagesimages&client=opera&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjl5IX_2I_qAhU67uAKHVZ_DOYQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=984&bih=658

https://wuhanhdc.en.made-in-china.com/product/ljvnBFHMMLWk/China-New-Condition-and-Low-Price-Oil-Press-Machine-in-Pakistan-Vegetable-Oil-Extract-Press.html

The saucer described in the tumblr just mentioned above can posses the long cylindrical siren gas cylinder on its outside bars that hold the roof and the floor not horizontally placed below its as previously mention to maximize its speed and so it creates a wider surface area of stability as opposed to the former suggested case dude. Each gas bar is heated individually as it has its own motor pump of equal magnitude as the other pumps of remaining gas bar cylinders as much as heating of equal intensity to create that balance in site when it flies or to be at balance/equilibrium. Got to know this, don’t just be involved in empty talks of wanting to control others not knowing shit when u talk u injure their hearts synonymous with Tanzania people.

The dredger explained above cutting holes across the earth surface from up above to the outer crust below, can be of 2 types of rotating shaft or like back and forth dimension as with the sewing machine needle bar system where 4 the water or debris not to get into the greased bearings and parts a hard bladder is incorporated to hold on the sewer machine needle bar holder and the other part fixes on the dredger itself to create an airtight/water tight atmosphere 4 the mention above not get in to hamper its operation. Road to emus, ten minas parable to cement reality of the 1st type of drill and women with Barnabas to cement the truths of back and forth movement synonymous with the sewer machine needle bar made like

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sewing_machine

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/501518108477618663/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8kZmWegXRc

The bladder named above can resemble the 1 on the motor-vehicle tire as shown above with looks like coiled spring or duodenum of animals so u get it bro, what else/more can i say as to explain it to bring ya home.

In the below link, the switch can be extend or push and pull 4 how many bulb option set u have bought at different prices or rotate the bulb itself switch to alternate set of bulbs placed inside can even be of different colors, static other sets while others disco lights withing 1 bulb and of different color lights. With us technology is rough home to stay with us not as long ago on voyage, kinda. Let us simplify our lives dude 4 better living bro as pride don’t form part of us as previously the know nothing wanted to control the masses with nothing hand but the blocked dubious deals making them to loiter around like hit with stone hawks locating, kinda, Doctors, which they will find not.

Switch option 4 many inside 1 bulb light to last long even up-to 5 on the bulb edge as in the below link    

https://www.alibaba.com/product-detail/SMD2835-5W-E27-B22-LED-led_60255236560.html?spm=a2700.pcdrm.normalList.37.314eFLKlFLKl37

Check Ghana home appliances KNY and mobile money new technology in the link below, Hubtel money not as usually agree safcom money

https://hubtel.com/tag/mobile-money/

https://www.google.com/search?q=kny+ghana+electronics+images+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwi72Jio5I_qAhVLwoUKHcmOAs0Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=kny+ghana+electronics+images+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1Dd-gZYyqwHYKKuB2gAcAB4AIAB0gKIAcQkkgEIMC4xOS40LjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=GK_tXrvsOMuElwTJnYroDA&bih=658&biw=984&client=opera

With swipe phone payment option meaning banks are facing their dead end together, so workers take heed cause now u r deem futile with other jobs, or we will hurl stones at ya

Water Guard if u buy, once opened if u use the next time, though still much, it does not work much forcing ya to buy a new bottle from somewhere hoping the reverse but the same, i know not if an old gimmick to get extra-cash from people as they have became open thieves.

#Please place the same on big water container and add dough to make water guard tablest to avoid the Former case gimmicks where u hurl cold w #water into the treated sewer water dough mixture as explained below

[psychobhyun]

S O R E

Foreword: Park Chanyeol texts you about a video he sent you. What you found in your camera roll was an even better one. 

Warnings: fingering, squirting, voyeurism, masturbation, thigh riding, cum play, dirty talk, consensual videotaping of sex

Genre: smut

“Fuck, Daddy, — you’re gonna make me cum!” You clench around Baekhyun's hard cock, earning a groan from the man. He’s fucking you into oblivion, something he had the talent of. His thrusts were precise, brushing against that part that made you sing for him the most. He loves it, loves making his sweet girl cum and fall apart, all because of him. It satisfies his desires. He could cum just watching you in pleasure, and that’s all he ever wanted. 

Baekhyun leans closer and bites your earlobe from his position. He’s fucking you from behind, arm wrapping around your neck. Your back is against his sturdy chest so you occasionally feel his nipples rubbing against the arch of it. It’s incredibly arousing, how intimate and close you both are right now. It makes your heart pump faster and your adrenaline heighten. “You gon’ cum for me, princess?” He rasps. You nod as slapping and squelching noises resonate in your ears. “Holy fuck you’re gon’ milk every last bit of my cum, baby." Your walls pulsate around his cock at his words, making his moans louder. 

“Please, please, please,” you chant mostly to yourself, trying to chase the long-awaited orgasm of your life. You didn’t think it was possible but Baekhyun manages to push himself into you even deeper than before. He’s pounding into you like a mad man, his hair sticking on his gorgeous face you love more than anything. All of a sudden Baekhyun turns you around without pulling his cock out, fucking you missionary style. You reach out to him with open arms, and he smiles at you through thick lashes. He leans in to kiss you softly on the lips.

The action alone made your heart flutter. Baekhyun knows how to make you feel loved. He presses his forehead to yours, staring deeply into your eyes. You were always mesmerized by the color of his pupils. It was a dark brown and you knew he held the warmth of the sun. Baekhyun puts his right hand on your left boob, fingers twisting your nipples and pulling at it which made you ooze out more juices on his cock. He knows how sensitive your nipples are and he loves it. 

“Baekhyun, I’m—!” Baekhyun pulls out from your cunt and suddenly you’re gushing from your pussy, an act that you’ve never done before. Baekhyun rubs your pussy lips using his flesh hand, letting you squirt on it as long as you’d like.  He rests his head on your shoulder, letting you ride your wet orgasm with euphoria. His hot breath on your skin wakes you up from your short state of bliss. He leaves a kiss on your sweaty skin before lifting himself up to look at his beloved once more. 

“Baby,” he starts. With hazy eyes, you put your hand around his cock and lightly pump him, which makes him grunt through gritted teeth. You push him off the bed and make him sit on the side of your shared bed. You kneel on the floor, face inches away from his glorious cock that was still an angry red, begging for the release you were happy to grant.

“You gave me the best orgasm of my life tonight, Daddy. You deserve one as well. Cum, Daddy. On my face.” All it took was another soft tug of your hand until he was cumming all over your face. From this angle, Baekhyun looked glorious. His head was thrown back, which you found hot. You need to explore your cum kink with Baekhyun later on. 

The morning after, you were left with a sore body. Completely spent, you decided to stay home today and make up a lame lie about showing symptoms of a fever to your boss. You didn’t feel like going to work. Besides, you had nothing that’s due today. Your Daddy who was rarely home was finally here for a long while. Usually, he would be home for nothing more than two weeks before going away for a whole month. But now you had him longer. And you are going to take advantage of that. 

Baekhyun was not on the bed, you noticed. The sheets smelled like sex and him. You smiled to yourself as you put on his shirt that was left discarded on the floor next to your bed. He was probably in the kitchen making breakfast without wearing a shirt, a habit you loved and hated at the same time. 

But as you walked in the kitchen, he wasn’t there either. You see that he left a note on the fridge. He said he was going to run outside and go to the supermarket nearby also. Apparently, you had no more milk for cereal. You sighed and sat on the couch in front of your table. You didn’t bother turning on the TV because God knows nothing is entertaining on a weekday, especially in the morning. Suddenly, a notification appeared on your phone. From Park Chanyeol.

You clicked on it to read the message. 

Hey, do you remember that video I sent you the other day? Do you still have it? Sehun also wanted to see it for himself but I couldn’t find it. Thanks!

Goddamn it. Chanyeol sent you a video of a dog he found on Instagram. That man was obsessed with Instagram. He had one, and boy was it an incredibly cheesy account. Most of his posts were of his face with dad jokes for captions or random dogs on the street. At least he’s trying to connect with the world, you thought. You know working in a business like him meant he was busy all the time, just like your daddy. 

You opened your photos file and searched for the video he was talking about, but your eyes caught something else.

It was a video of you and Baekhyun.

Having sex.

In a very scandalous position.  

Baekhyun had insisted on filming you both have sex one day because he wanted you to have fun by yourself if he ever leaves for work again. You accepted the sentiment, but now that you’re looking at it, you appreciate his initiative. Very much. Baekhyun was focusing the camera on where the two of you are joined. He’s pushing his cock into you in a fast, swift motion, and you can definitely tell how good he made you feel through the moans you were making in the video. 

”You feel so good ‘round me, princess. What a good girl you are. Are you a good girl? Are ya gon’ cum for me? Make those sweet noises so you can touch yourself whenever you watch this video? Does it turn you on? I bet it does. You’re a naughty girl. Only for me though.” He groans behind the camera as he was filming you. “I love this fucking pussy,” he starts. “Your pussy was created to take my cock. Look how greedy your cunt is for my cock, princess.” His right hand was the one filming, so his left hand was the one on top of your hips, holding you in place as he brutally thrusts inside of you. “Fuck, Daddy, harder please!” You screamed. 

You blushed heavily because of the obscene noises you were making in the video. You could hear Baekhyun’s heavenly moans and it made your pussy clench. You weren’t wearing any panties, so you decided to touch yourself to the video. You can feel how wet you were with your fingers. You spit on two of your fingers to make it easier for you to have your fun and started rubbing your clit tentatively. You started out slow, just like how Baekhyun would when he’s teasing you. 

You pull Baekhyun’s shirt back so it’s sitting just above your boobs so you could play with your nipples because you were incredibly sensitive there. You pinch it with your thumb and forefinger, pulling on it to make yourself scream from time to time. You place your phone beside you so you could just listen to every dirty word Baekhyun was saying in the video. You close your eyes and imagine that Baekhyun was just right there beside you, guiding you as you touch yourself. 

“Look at you, doll. Tits bouncing as I fuck you hard and fast. You like it when I fuck you like the little slut you are, don’t ya? ” 

You subconsciously response to the Baekhyun in the video, muttering a quiet yes as you rub your clit in circles. You’re letting the pleasure consume you as you roll around on the sofa and pushing inside three of your own fingers from behind, imagining it was Baekhyun himself finger fucking you with his beautiful fingers. You’re getting close you can feel it, but suddenly a jolt of pain courses through your sex and you stop touching yourself. 

You groaned. Baekhyun definitely left you sore from last night. You stick to just playing with your clit and your boobs. You were so close, so close, to cumming when the sound of a door closing silenced you and stops your movements. 

“Shit princess, you couldn’t wait for me?” You hid your face under your two hands for a second before it was pulled from you. You met Baekhyun’s intense gaze. But then you realized. He changed his hair color. His hair was silver, not the typical color you were used to seeing.  Jesus Christ, you were melting. He looked godly. “You’re always hungry for cock, aren’t ya? Always want somethin’ stuffed inside your eager cunt. You dirty little slut.”

You yelped as Baekhyun pulled you and sat you on his lap. You were faced away from him, your television just right in front of you, showing you a reflection of your compromising position. Baekhyun is rubbing your pussy as your ass is grinding against his slowly hardening cock. He’s kissing your shoulders and your neck, inhaling your scent as he breathes into your ear from behind. “My sweet, sweet, princess. What do you want?” You could only moan in response because Baekhyun was touching you directly on your clit with his pretty fingers. It must be cold outside because that’s how his fingers feel like against your hot cunt. 

“Please, Daddy. I’m still sore from last night. But please,—“ You gasp as he pinches your left nipple wickedly. “Yes, princess?” He leaves a trail of wet kisses on your back. “Please make me cum.” Baekhyun chuckles lightly, sending tingles throughout your body. You knew it was the ‘I’m gonna mess you up’ kind of chuckle. 

“Hold on to the couch, princess.” You follow his orders silently and move so you can be in a more comfortable position. Baekhyun grunts because your ass is rubbing against his clothed cock, and it’s taking his everything not to fuck you right now. But he understands that you are sore, so he lets his selfishness aside. “I’m just gonna play with you a ‘lil bit, make you wetter for me so I can make things easier for us both.” 

He places his fingers on your clit to pull the hood back, a warm finger circling the clit slowly, teasingly. “You’re soaking me so much, beautiful. I’m starting to think I don’t need to do anything anymore.” You shook your head in disapproval. You love it when Baekhyun took his time on you because it made orgasms so much more intense. “Play with your nipples, baby. That’s always an easy trick to make you wet, isn’t it?” You nod and he laughs behind you. You slowly knead your breasts with your hands, sometimes pulling at your nipples at the same time which makes you moan. Baekhyun is finger fucking you using a single finger, but it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. The squelching noises he’s creating sounds so loud in your ear. The most you could take with all the soreness is probably only two of his fingers. They were like three or four of your own. 

Baekhyun is starting to move faster on your cunt, and you’re slowly approaching orgasm, and he could sense it, could feel it through the way your walls are clenching against his one finger and by the way you’re writhing on top of his body. The fact that you’re naked and he’s still fully clothed turns you on even more.  “Did I tell you to stop?” You wanted to answer him but before you could, he commands you another thing. “Spit on your pussy. Spread it around, make it nice and wet for me.” You mumbled a small holy fuck under your breath as you spit on your fingers before placing it on your pussy as he told you to. 

“Good girl. Up!” He slaps your ass and pushes you so you stand. You look at him confused, not knowing what he’s going to do to torture you next. He lets you sit on the couch now. It’s warm underneath you, probably from Baekhyun’s weight. Baekhyun takes off his shirt and you smile at the sight. He is absolutely majestic. You love him and everything about him.

He slowly leans in and stops himself right before your pussy. “You smell so fucking good, doll. It’s makin’ me rock hard. Can’t wait to taste this pussy.” You put your hands on top of his hair, missing the long strands of it a little bit. But it was nice. You could run your hand through his new hair easily now. Baekhyun spits on your cunt once again, mixing what was left of yours with his’. He absolutely doesn’t hold back on you. He’s licking everywhere, suckling on your clit as his fingers rub around it. He takes a quick break to suck on your breasts, a finger inside you to tease you. He’s looking at you with his dreamy eyes, and you could only smile because he’s looking at you with love evident in his eyes. 

“Wanna put my cock inside of you so bad, doll. But I gotta face my consequences, don’t I? For fucking you like the deserving sweet girl you are. You were so good to me last night. Moaning and panting as I make you cum under me. You loved it, didn’t you?” His words were sending you over the edge. He’s now fucking you using two of his fingers, pushing it in and out of you rapidly. You squirm as your orgasm nears. 

His mouth is on your cunt once more, working on it with everything he has. He licks the underside of your clit as his fingers accompany him to make you chase your orgasm a bit faster, and it’s working cause you’re squirting all over his goddamn face. This is the second time he had made you squirt. You couldn’t even feel your soreness anymore from the mindblowing orgasm he just granted you. He’s kissing your forehead before he whispers to you what a good girl you are. 

“My sweet girl. My beautiful, sweet, girl. Cummin’ all over my fingers.” You put your hand around his arms, trying to make him stop, but he doesn’t. He’s still rubbing your pussy and it drives you to oversensitivity. “Daddy, I can’t! Please,” you try to coax him by begging, but he doesn’t budge. “You know what I want. I want you to squirt one more time for me, dollface. Just one more time.” Baekhyun kisses you on the lips to silence you as he makes you squirt one last time. “That’s it, baby. Squirt all over my jeans, baby.” He lets you take your time to breathe, but you were way past just wanting two orgasms. You wanted more.

You switch places with Baekhyun, so he’s the one sitting on the coach. His pupils are dilated, his hair was a mess, and he’s looking at you like you’re his world. You straddle him, your pussy bare against his thigh that was still in the jeans that makes his thick thighs look delicious. Baekhyun’s top that you were wearing was unbuttoned on top, giving him a nice view to look at as you rode his thigh. You move your hips slowly, searching for a comfortable rhythm so your clit can enjoy the feeling of Baekhyun’s jeans against it. “Baby, you’re blowing my mind right now.” 

You lean in to kiss Baekhyun again, and he smiles against your lips when your hips are moving a little faster and another orgasm is coming. “Fuck yeah, princess. Make yourself cum on Daddy's jeans. God, you’re so fucking perfect for me.” You came one more time as he finishes his sentence. You breathed heavily as you sit on his lap once more, giggling when you can feel how hard he was under you. Baekhyun noticed that you weren’t up for another orgasm. You needed to rest. Baekhyun understands this so he carries you to your shared bedroom and places you on the unmade bedsheets. He takes off his clothes, throwing them wherever in the room, left only in his boxers. 

He’s pulling you closer to him so your back can touch his chest as he says, “Remind me to make it a goal every time we have sex to make you squirt.” 

#baekhyun #baekhyun smut #baekhyun scenarios #exo #exo smut #exo scenarios #rated m #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader

[v01d-anc3]

001

Austin leaned forward in his chair, completely intrigued by the show that he was finally able to watch. Hoodie was on a hunt with EJ. Most of the Proxies were out, actually... Austin was yet to get an assignment. He didn't get along well with the other proxies, so that meant he didn't have a partner yet. And it was quite obvious Slenderman didn't trust him as much as he trusted Masky. In fact, Austin felt like sometimes Slender regretted collecting him for a proxy.

Austin narrowed his eyes at the screen. The show was called Over the Garden Wall. It was a short series, but from what he had seen, it was very interesting. He quite liked the robin.

Austin jumped when Toby rolled onto the couch next to him. Toby didn't stay on the couch long before he fell off, but he still somehow ended up in one of those 'draw me like one of your French girls' poses.

"Whatchya w-watchin, Void?" Toby asked, yellow goggles glued to the screen. his voice 'ticked' when he spoke, making it sound like he stammered.

"Nothing..." Austin mumbled. He didn't mind the nickname he had donned since arriving at the mansion, but he did find it kind of annoying when people said that others should a-void him. He didn't object, though.

"N-nothing? Looks more l-like a kids show" Toby sat up and kept watching the screen. "Is this D-Disney?"

"I... I don't think so?" Austin frowned.

"Dang. D-did you know Sl-Slender appeared in o-one of the shows from D-Disney?" Toby looked up at Austin, looking like he was trying to break his neck. Toby tapped his knees continuously.

"No?... Which show?" Austin frowned, curious. Toby had finally pulled Austin's attention away from the screen.

"G-Gravity Falls. Good sh-show, that one. Very w-weird"

"... I see... I'll look into it"

"There's D-Doritos in it" Toby's cloth mask shifted, indicating he was grinning.

"... Don't know why I'd need to know that, but thanks?"

"No pr-problem! Also, c-came over here to t-tell you that we have to g-go shopping later"

"What? Why us?"

"I c-could ask the same th-thing, but it's a tr-trial thing. M-Masky is c-coming, too, to 'k-keep an eye on us'. Don't kn-know what that m-means"

"Oh, no, I have no idea" Austin rolled his eyes, but it didn't look like he did much because his eyes were pitch black now. Austin knew the shenanigans that Toby got up to sometimes. They were almost as bad as when Jeff gets arrested at times.

"I know! I'm a r-responsible person, you're t-too stupid to try and l-leave, and we're both d-dedicated people! Also we get h-hungry, too!"

Austin frowned at that, but didn't say anything. He pretended that Toby's stuttering made him think he said that, but truly he hadn't. He tried not to think too much into it.

"So, d-d-did you finally g-get rid of Jeff?" Toby asked. The show finished. Austin sighed. He had missed the end of it because Toby refused to stop talking.

"I don't know. He wasn't in my room when I woke up. Or... maybe he was under my bed, I dunno" Austin hummed in thought. Jeff was a tactical killer when he wanted to be, and he watches his victims for about a week before he kills them, to look at sleeping patterns. Apparently they fascinated Jeff, so he studied them. Jeff watched Austin sleep on most nights. Well, whenever he did manage to sleep. It was hard to sleep when a man with a grin slit from ear to ear was staring at you with unblinking eyes through the moonlight that squeezed through the gaps in the shutters. Slenderman had tried to stop Jeff from doing it, but eventually gave up when Jeff chewed/stabbed a hole through the wall from EJ's room to Austin's. EJ didn't even wake up from the commotion apparently. He did see Jeff crawl through the hole sometimes, though.

It kinda freaked Austin out.

"Huh. W-weird. Maybe h-he's out or s-something?" Toby frowned.

"Probably out killing unfortunate people" Austin shrugged, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. "When do we have to go? Do we have a shopping list?"

"L-leaving w-when Masky g-gets back f-from the p-patrol with B-Ben" Toby shrugged, sitting up.

"So... roughly 5?"

"Maybe. M-maybe not. Never know t-till he's at th-the door"

"Which... is always 5 on the dot, whether his partner is with him or not"

"What, really?! I-I never noticed" Toby frowned.

"Well, you do get a tiny bit distracted a lot of the time when he gets back..." Austin reminded Toby.

"Th-that makes sense" Toby nodded. "Here c-can get boring a-a lot"

"Definitely"

"We sh-should go hunting a-again soon!!~" Toby giggled.

Austin sighed. Jeff and Toby were always trying to get Austin to 'hunt'. Hunting as in get out of the mansion and kill people at night. Austin admitted, he did enjoy it at least a little bit, but he felt guilty, which was, of course, normal.

"I... I guess it wouldn't hurt..." Austin mumbled softly.

"You turned s-soft again!!" Toby announced.

Austin was about to assure Toby that he had no way of getting any softer when the door opened. Ben Drowned walked in and to the couch. "Move over"

Austin shuffled over a bit for Ben to sit in his spot - the one closest to the TV - and Ben flopped down.

"UGH I hate going on patrol" Ben groaned.

"We all have to do it eventually" Masky said calmly. He then turned to Austin and Toby. "Ready?"

Austin realized he didn't have his shoes on, and quickly jumped up. "I have to put shoes on, I'll be quick"

Masky nodded once. Toby jumped up, already wearing a pair of Volley's, as Austin ran upstairs to his room. He entered his room. Austin stopped when he saw Jeff climbing through his window.

"How did you...???" Austin frowned, wondering how on Earth did Jeff get to the second story window.

Jeff fell on his face. "Ow"

Austin rolled his eyes and helped Jeff up. Jeff smiled at him, of course, then sauntered out of the room. Austin didn't question it and grabbed his black combat boots. He pulled them on then ran back downstairs. Masky was looking at his watch and Toby was bouncing up and down, seeming unable to get the ants out of his pants. Austin walked outside with the others following. The door closed and the long trek to the town began.

The walk was quiet for Austin. The other two were sending chatter between each other, but Austin was zoned out for most of the way there, except for when Toby accidentally bumped into him. Other than that, Austin remained quiet. Mostly trying to ignore the visions and voices he saw at times. Austin remembered he forgot to take his medication this morning.

When they got to town, it was dark and not many people were out. The walk seemed to have taken longer because Toby got stuck in a tree.

Masky handed Austin something, jarring him out of thought. Austin took whatever it was and looked at it.

It was a human looking mask and a hat.

"Put them on" Masky instructed.

Austin frowned but didn't object, sliding the mask on and donning the hat. The mask almost immediately made Austin sweat and feel stuffy.

"Keep your hands in your pocket and hunch over when a human comes around" Masky said, taking off his mask for the first time in front of Austin. Austin was surprised. "We don't want any attention drawn to us. We are just grown men going shopping. If anyone asks, we're flat mates. Don't look at camera's or they'll notice something off"

Austin nodded. His face felt itchy.

They walked into a small supermarket, and immediately Toby headed to the milk isle. Almost as soon as he left, he darted into the next aisle, holding a milk carton. Toby had grabbed a basket in the progress and was grabbing the usual items, like milk, bread, sugar and whatnot. Masky gestured for Austin to follow him. He did so as they walked to the meat section. Masky read a shopping list, chewing on his lip. Austin couldn't help but stare at Masky. Masky looked human without his mask on. That was a first.

"Camera's, Austin. Don't look suspicious" Masky mumbled softly.

"R-right, sorry" Austin looked away and pretended to look at things.

"Don't talk" Masky instructed.

Austin nodded in response and picked up some tomato sauce, reading the labels.

"We need some of that. Don't put it back" Masky announced.

Austin nodded. He held it quietly, looking for something else to do. Toby ran down the aisle, holding 2 loaves of bread and the basket, already full of stuff that was needed for living, including soaps and and Pop Tarts. Once Masky was done with what he was doing - collecting a small pile of meats for meals - they headed to the biscuit aisle. Toby started picking up more Pop Tarts, but Masky stopped him. He then tried grabbing Oreos, but Masky stopped him yet again, letting out a sigh.

"We don't need every single box, Toby"

"We don't have enough!"

"Yes we do"

"THERE'S NEVER ENOUGH" Toby complained loudly. A woman down the aisle looked over for a moment, before returning to grabbing a box of tea and leaving in a hurry. Masky grabbed a box of Maree's, some ANZAC biscuits and choc chip cookies before leaving the aisle in silence. Toby groaned and followed. Austin also followed.

They headed to the self serve cash register and Toby and Masky each took turns in scanning things in order to make it quicker. Austin shoved the items into bags and took as many as he could carry when they were done. They all left the supermarket and headed outside. It was even darker and colder than before. They headed down the street, back toward the forest, but stopped at the gas station.

"Toby, leave the bags out here. I want to get some smokes, and you can grab a drink" Masky turned to Austin. "You're in charge of the bags. If anyone steals anything, you will be blamed. What drink do you want?"

Austin frowned but then nodded. "A lemonade will do, thank you"

Masky nodded, placing the bags he had beside Austin. Toby dropped his, and they both headed inside.

Austin felt a little sketchy, especially since he was in a dark corner of the place. He couldn't help but feel proud, though. Masky had put Austin in charge of something, so therefore he was at least a little trustworthy. Austin planned to keep it that way. No one would steal tonight, anyway. They didn't have much of worth.

Yet Austin was wrong.

Austin jumped in alarm as someone slammed into him, shoving him against the wall and pinning him under their weight. They covered Austin's masks mouth with a gloved hand and held a gun to the side of his head.

"Keep yer mouth shut, boy, and hand over the cash" the man growled lowly.

Austin didn't have any cash. All he had was his phone, which hung in his pocket heavily. Austin felt a rush of adrenaline in his body, specifically his head. He panicked a bit, mostly because of the fact that the voice in his head was trying to convince him to let them take over.

"Stop stallin and hand it over!!"

Austin heard rustling, and knew the man had a comrade messing with the bags.

Austin had it then. Time to unleash his inner demon.

Austin closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. As soon as he did, he was tossed back into the void.

And out came the true darker side of himself. Aka The Static.

They opened their eyes and a faint static sound was heard, their eyes now that static look.

"Shoot me" they grinned under the mask.

"What?" the attacker grunted.

"Shoot me. Right in the head. I dare you. I bet you don't have the guts. Is it even loaded, good sir? You haven't even cocked the gun" they chuckle slightly.

"How are you even talking?!" the guy snapped.

"I am inside everyone's head, Johnathan"

The man, Johnathan, gasped. He took a step back in shock. This gave the Static enough time to go completely rouge.

They punched the guy straight in the gut, causing him to double over, then they kneed him in the face. The guy groaned and cocked the gun, then aimed and shot directly between the inhabited eyes of Austin.

The guy going through the bags slumped to the ground. Johnathan backed up, staring at his now dead friend, then at the Static.

"H-how did you..." Johnathan stammered before the Static grabbed a pole lying conveniently on the ground. Johnathan cocked the gun then aimed and shot again, missing the Static's shoulder and somehow getting shot instead. Johnathan screamed in pain and dropped the gun. The Static was on him in a split second and cracked the pole over Johnathan's head. Johnathan slumped to the floor.

The Static then dropped the pole, grabbing the gun. 4 more bullets.

"This seems like a fun one to play with..." he mumbled.

He then turned and aimed the gun right at Masky as he and Toby walked out of the service station.

//Hey guys! Feedback is much appreciated!!

#Creepypasta #CP #Proxy #Proxies #Void #Slenderman #Slender #Masky #Ticci Toby #CPOC #OC #Robbery #Assignment #Trial #Voidance

[tokyoteddywolf]

Super Shallurklance

@syeriane @shallurklancentric as promised, some cute Shallurklance, but with a cute cliffhanger ;3

"Is everyone in my apartment building a superhero?” More like Lance is the normal guy who usually ends up taking care of his neighbors after they go out to fight crime and befriends them all, but has a pining crush on three of his neighbors bc fuck he's too poly and bi to function- Anyways, Pidge has plant powers and hacking skills, Hunk is basically an earth bender, Keith is a fucking dragon, Shiro can fly and use super strength, Allura is Wonder Woman but has cats, and Coran is the landlord of the building. There are Major powers and Minor powers. Those with Major powers are usually in the Hero or Villain business. Those with Minor powers are generally sidekicks or civilians. Lance and Coran have Minor powers. Lance can pull water from the air or from anywhere within ten feet. It's not very strong but it helps to clean wounds. Coran has the ability to bend metals. Enjoy ;3

-------------------------------------------

"Is everyone in my apartment building a superhero?” Lance groaned, eying the pretty new girl moving in. "No, not everyone. You aren't. I think she's the Hero Altea though. The hair certainly matches." Lance's above floor neighbor, Pidge, yawned from her spot leaning against the railing next to him. "As in the city female favorite, Altea? Great. Let me guess, you guys are gonna show her the best place to patch up after a fight?" Lance asked defeatedly, narrowing cold blue eyes at the grinning superhero girl. "You know it, Lance! I'm not taking chances! Also, do you have any more tea? I'm out of green leaf and I know you have an extra stock somewhere." Pidge poked him in the side. Lance sighed. "Yeah yeah, I bought a new box yesterday. Come on, I'll make you a cup." Hours later, an explosion rocked the city and sure enough, as Lance calmly drank his hot cocoa in front of the TV, the news coverage showed the Voltron team plus Altea herself fighting against a massive metal monster. The Voltron team, aka Lance's neighbors in the Lion Apartments. Black, a powerful hero with indestructibility and the gift of flight, his powers mostly originating in his prosthetic arm. Olkari, a small hero with the ability to manipulate plants to her will, no matter the size. She could also hack anything, which was what she was currently doing to the monster's mainframe. Balmeran, the bulky hero with extreme strength. He was known for using the ground and environment to his advantage. Red, the original partner of Black's and gifted with extreme, nearly uncontrollable power. His flames could melt anything, as well as change him into a dragon if he felt like it. And Altea, a woman with super strength, speed, and energy manipulation. Usually sending it out in the form of lightning or beams, usually white or pink, sometimes blue. The creature went down after a short while, and the camera followed the heroes launching away in different directions. But Lance knew where they would all end up eventually.

He came back from a quick trip to the supermarket and groaned when he found the lock picked and half open from a cute little vine, seemingly innocent. "Pidge! What have I told you about breaking into my house through the front door?! The balcony sliding door is always unlocked you know!" The irritated Cuban called as he entered his home, noting the dirty tracks on the carpet. "And Hunk! I trusted you to keep Keith in line during that fight, and now half the city is rubble! Keith, did you even shower properly before you came here?! Hi Shiro, Miss Altea. Pidge! Get out of the tea cabinet! I just gave you a box yesterday!" Lance set his bags on the coffee table in front of both Shiro and the startled Altea before marching over to yank Pidge away from his tea storage, a small whip of water putting out a small fire left on Keith's head. Lance ushered everyone to a seat on the various couches in the main room. "Okay, who's first? I got extra gauze this time, and special disinfectant for rust bacteria." Lance pulled water from a nearby cup and wrapped it around a particularly nasty burn on Shiro's arm, the hero Altea looking on in fascination as the water slowly started massaging impurities from the blood and skin. "So, miss Altea, I'm Lance. I usually patch these guys up after a fight, so I'm guessing they decided to bring you around too?" Said male asked the white haired heroine, raising an eyebrow and using another small water whip to clean up the blood on her cheek. "Ah, well, Olkari insisted, since you are very trustworthy and she mentioned you keep a wide variety of tea?" Altea admitted, Pidge piping up from her seat trying to wrangle Keith into using an ice pack. "Call me Pidge! We all live in the same building anyways, and Lance here knows us all on first name basis so we might as well use it ourselves!" The tiny plant hero chirped triumphantly as she managed to headlock Keith and press the ice against the nasty bruise on his back.

"I'm Keith, Shiro's boyfriend and partner in heroism." The man wheezed from where his friend was currently crushing his back as she 'tended' to him. Shiro waved with his prosthetic arm. "I'm Shiro, nice to be working with you, Miss Altea." Hunk came back from the kitchen, stirring what looked to be a bowl full of chocolate chip cookie dough. "Sorry Lance, I borrowed some stuff for cookies. Also, hi, I'm Hunk and I'm usually the one to feed these people because somehow none of them know how to cook." The bulky man leveled a glare at his three teammates, each glancing away with a sheepish smile or a nervous chuckle. "I kind of know how to cook!" Keith replied defensively, pouting. "Keith, charred lumps of god knows what does not equal cooking." Lance deadpanned, finishing his task of bandaging Altea's arm. The heroine snorted out a half giggle half wheeze, and Lance had to mentally stomp on the growing attraction in his heart. He already had two impossible crushes, he didn't need a third... "Well, my name is Allura. It is nice to meet all of you!" She introduced herself, and the others all grinned back. "Well now that all the introductions are out of the way, who wants tea? I also have hot chocolate and coffee." Lance asked, standing up and moving towards the kitchen. He was sweating from the effort of holding up five separate threads of water. The ones that were currently cooling and healing the burn wounds on the 5 heroes. Shiro wanted black coffee, Pidge wanted green tea with extra sugar, Hunk wanted a specific amount of sugar and cream in his coffee, Keith demanded chamomile tea, and Allura politely requested juniberry petal tea. He didn't notice Keith intently watching him serve their drinks, didn't see Allura narrow her eyes when Lance swayed slightly, didn't realize he was collapsing until Shiro practically vaulted over the couch to catch him on his way back to the kitchen.

He did, however, notice the worried voices whispering near him as he slowly woke up to someone stroking his hair. It felt nice, nothing like the stress his job had been putting him through lately or the strain of using his Power too much recently. He sighed and rolled over to fall back asleep, the stroking in his hair never faltering. Meanwhile, Allura frowned as she watched Red, Keith, pet Lance's hair as he kept vigil over the man on the couch. "It's strange, normally he doesn't collapse like that. I always tell him to rest after he uses his Power and take a break now and then, but today must have been a bad day to ask for help." Shiro murmured, gazing at Lance in concerned fondness. "For someone who exercises his Power so much, I wouldn't think something so small as purifying wounds on five people would cause him to collapse. Perhaps he has been working too hard lately?" Allura asked, placing a comforting hand on Shiro's shoulder. "He isn't home as much, actually. I've seen him come home real late at night and leave at really early hours." Keith piped up, quiet so as not to wake Lance up. Shiro sighed. "He has a communication problem, which is surprising for someone who's so talkative."

Allura giggled lightly. "I find it quite endearing. You were right to bring me here and convince me to move into this building. I believe Lance will prove to become a large part of our lives. I just hope he accepts us when the time comes." She moved over to crouch next to Keith, her fingers joining the Fire Hero's tangling through Lance's soft, silky hair. Keith hummed lightly and tipped his head onto Allura's shoulder. Shiro folded his arms over his chest and smiled as his girlfriend and boyfriend watched hopefully over the object of their affections. After all, it was a secret that Black, Red and Altea were not friends, but instead a trio of polyamorous lovers. Not even Pidge or Hunk knew that Shiro and Keith knew Allura a lot more intimately than they'd acted like today. One day, Shiro hoped, Lance would make it a group of four. He wished for that day to come soon.

-------------------------------------------

What do you think? Sequel, maybe? :3

💖💙❤️🖤

#voltron #Shallurklance #my writing #good god this is long

[hazzasrose]

Kiwi - imagine

Hi Loves! Here’s quite a long imagine for ya. Its kind of my interpretation of the song, so a little bit different from the story the lyrics tell. Enjoy!

(for those who don’t know/aren’t familiar, the term “kiwi” is a term for people from New Zealand, kind of like “aussie” is for Australians)

Disclaimer: included swearing/cursing towards the end.

It was the call that hurt Harry the most. It was all the weeks, months and days you two had spent together, and it was all jumbled together in one crackly, long distance call. To be fair, the gap between you was very present. He was hard to track down, constantly travelling from place to place. And you were in New Zealand, just like you always had been.

When you first walked into the studio all those many months ago, Harry nearly fell off his chair. He was in New Zealand for a bit of time while he was on break. The small country attracted him, its peaceful serenity was calming in his hectic life. You were calming. Harry always said that it was your laugh that made him fall, literally and metaphorically. The minute you walked into the small box-like studio and saw the shocked faces from the several nearly 6 ft men, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was a cackle, and it made everyone who was near you light up. It was infectious. Harry was stunned, and his dimply grin broke forth. From that day on, he was undeniably infatuated. People thought he had been drugged. He had in a way. You were his drug, and he just couldn’t get enough of you.

His large hands were constantly running down the dip in your back or resting on your knee. His green eyes always followed you, and his mouth drank you up. You had never really thought you were pretty. Sure, being a social butterfly, people were always around. You like your hair, and your smile wasn’t shabby. But Harry was mesmerised, and everyone could see it.

New Zealand was your oyster. After weeks upon weeks cooped up in the tiny studio, working on a billion different songs, cabin fever was growing. So you and Harry loaded up your ageing Ford Focus and drove for as long as you could. His ringed fingers tapping along to the beat of the radio, and your voice singing to the mountains. It was a good life, Harry decided. The endless green hills and ocean went on and on, and cheesy as it may sound, so did your love.

They say that every relationship has a honeymoon period. At the time, you were both completely locked at this stage, But life goes on. You started to get tired of Harry coming back home at 4 in the morning, mumbling a “hey love” before collapsing on the queen sized bed in your apartment. You started to hate the paparazzi, their beady cameras scanning your body. You couldn’t even go to the supermarket anymore without being photographed. You started to despise how Harry’s days and nights were spent away. You hardly ever saw your boy anymore.

Harry knew you were upset with it all. He was always empathetic towards you, at times he really felt like he was living through you. But there was only so much his brain could hold. It seemed like he just didn’t have enough space for you anymore. The nights were either filled with shouting, or angry sex that neither of you enjoyed. The only time you could really look at Harry without wanting to argue was when he was sleeping. His eyes closed, dark lashes gently resting on his cheeks. Pink lips slightly parted, forehead smooth. It was the Harry you remember falling in love with.

You knew and Harry knew it was never gonna last. It was a Tuesday night, and the house was still echoing from your biggest fight yet. You lay curled up on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the words that rocked your world still vibrating in your ears.

“You are so fuckin annoying! I never have any peace anymore, you just nag nag nag at me every fuckin minute of every day!”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do Harry? I know shit all about what's going on and I’m sick of it! You’re out all bloody day. It's like you don’t give two shits anymore!”

He looked up at you sharply then. You had been sitting on the edge of the couch, and he had been lying on the floor by the TV. You remember his eyes flashing. They normally looked at you with so much love and emotion, but you couldn’t remember seeing any of that. There was just pure raw anger. He had got up and stormed into the kitchen. You just had to get off the couch and follow him. Looking back now, that was such a stupid fucking decision.

Harry had been pushing through the freezer before noticing you. He had straightened up, mouth set in a firm line. “You’re damn right. Maybe I don't give two shits anymore. Maybe I want to be in England or LA right now with my friends, or loving some other girl and having the time of my life. But I’m here, aren’t I?” You lost it then. You always had a fiery temper at the best of times, but there was something about his words that made your voice come out quiet, cold and hard.

“There’s nothing stopping you ya know. It’s not like you have a girlfriend that loves you or cares about you. It’s not like you have a girlfriend that’s given up her whole fucking life to live with you. It’s not like you have a girlfriend that wants to marry you someday!”                                                                            There were tears streaming down your cheeks at this point. Fingernails cutting into your palms as you clenched your fists.                                                        “You were my fucking saviour Harry. I thought you were always gonna love me.”

Harry paced over to the front door of the apartment, grabbing his coat off the dining room table.

“Well, I guess you thought wrong then, didn’t ya love?”

With those dreaded words, the wooden door slammed. The bang clouding your ears as you had slid to the ground sobbing. After about 2 hours, you had gone the bedroom you shared with Harry. That’s where you were still, laying there, just breathing.

You expected Harry to come back. He expected himself to. And he tried. Every night he would let himself into the apartment, just to grab his things. At least that's what he told himself. He always got stuck. Sometimes it would be because you had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV still blaring Call the Midwife. He would watch the light flicker over your face, before picking you up and placing you gently in bed. Sometimes it would be because you had fallen asleep in his walk-in wardrobe. Weird as is sounded, it was because you had been cuddling his colourful shirts, pretending they were him. At first, Harry laughed at this. But the more and more he found you asleep in the wardrobe, the more he found himself with tears running down his face. He missed you. So much. And it was always with regret that he left you, asleep in the quiet apartment.

You knew he came every night, but you never willed yourself to stay awake, and you didn’t quite know why. But the weeks went by, and Harry gradually stopped coming. It could have been he had retrieved all of his things. But you knew and he knew the crowded apartment was still filled with his belongings. It could have been the fact that his friends and family were getting fed up with his moping, and finally decided that it wasn’t healthy. And it could have been the fact that he had finally got over his kiwi.

You had seen the magazine articles. Harry was finally back in London and causing a raucous. You on the other hand, and found out about the baby a couple of weeks ago. Harry’s number stayed cemented in your phone. It took your mum to finally knock some sense into you, saying that maybe you should tell the father of the child that he actually is going to be a dad. So you called. When the ringing finally subsided, and Harry’s voice came over the speaker, telling you to “leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks.” it almost broke you. But finally, after many coffees and pep talks, a message flowed from your lips.

“Hey Harry, it's me. Been a while huh? Wasn’t going to call you at all, but Mum persuaded me. She’s always been a fan of yours. Charmed her right to the bone. Anyway, just thought you should know. I'm having your baby. It’s none of your business, but it is technically half of you, so best you know. You don’t need to care for the kid or send money or anything like that. We’re gonna be just fine without you. Just like I have been. So just leave it, ok?                                        So yea, kinda dropped a bomb there didn’t I? Have fun living your life being a rock star. Don’t call back. Bye”

It was those words that made Harry’s healing heart explode.

hOLY SHit! This has been sitting in my notebook for a while now, so it’s a bit overdue. I'm kinda thinking of doing a part 2, so pretty please let me know if I should! Lots of love xxx

#harry styles #harry imagine #harry edward styles #solo harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #one direction imagines #one direction #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #imagines #from the dining room table #kiwi #sweet creature #only angel #two ghosts #carolina #ever since new york #meet me in the hallway #sign of the times #woman

[comicbookrearview]

Uncanny X-Men vol.1 issue 294

X-CUTIONER’S SONG PART 1

It was February 1993 by the time this issue came out at newsagents in Australia, it was already four issues into collecting uncanny x-men. The cartoon had aired in America, i guess it was around this time it started on Australian TV in the morning before school. 

This issue was poly-bagged (and this is where i learned the term, to this day only comic book kids will know what that is) with a Skybox X-Cutioner’s song trading card. Sure! What the hell, i’m a kid.. i like stuff.. i have no money so it helps if that stuff is free too!

Aw man.. it’s Xavier... 11 year old me: *Yawn.

THE COVER

The cover price is $2.25 Australian, pricey for ‘93, poly-bags must cost more to make because the last issue was only 1.80.. hey everyone, lets all hug and reminisce about when we could afford things! 

The corner box lists the Australian price so the kid who learned about the whole speculators market a few years later will tell you this is already worth less than a “legit american copy”. The corner box was your standard head shots of the team members of this book, i wish they still did these today, not for any other good reason besides nostalgia, but it’s just an inconsequential thing that kids thought were cool, it complimented the logo i guess (shrug). Also what i miss is what i think is Marvel’s greatest ever company logo, before they changed it to hide that they were about comics and it was the M with the word comics scrawled through it.. c’mon, some graphic designer was really tuned into the demographic with this, i hope that paid for a wing on their house.

The image is by interior artist Brandon Peterson. We’ll talk about his art later on some but i do want to note that it displays the two most used depictions of eyes being drawn at the time. Grim and gritty shadowed over, serious, moody, dark. Or you have completely devoid of anything, “what i’m reacting to is so intense in some way that my eyeball has lost all pigmentation, my pupils are no longer there.. je suis mort”.

The image is an already cool AF Cable holding a big ass gun, standing over the smoldering body of a pupil less Professor X with a corresponding big ass hole in his chest, possibly made by the big ass gun, i can’t say for sure. What i can say for sure is that this was drawn by somebody with a better grasp on anatomy than the infamous creator of Cable, Rob Liefeld, because everything is in proportion, has been researched or well thought out, Cables gun is big, but not scientifically so big that he shouldn’t be able to hold it in the air even with the aid of a 90′s AF cybernetic arm. His pouches, which i’m guessing Peterson may have been loath to draw and are possibly an editorial edict, look as practical and functional as they can, they look full and in use. I know it’s cool to rag on Liefeld, I've nothing against the man, he’s genuinely earned his place in comic book history, but all i’m saying is if we had to endure accessories like this as staples of the genre at the time, effort like Peterson’s was the most correct way to go about things. Anyway, white background, cool, our focus should be solely on the jarring image the cover confronts us with.. the cover should make you want to read the book and tell me you didn’t suck in a room full of air and snatch this of the stands when it came out.

THE STORY

We start off with a splash page (we’ll talk about them on the whole in the art section) Warren Worthington III is taking his girl on a date. Where? Where would a guy in a tux with a bouquet of flowers and access to a limousine take somebody dressed in leathers and a white tee? To a concert in the park.

A peace rally in central park. Hey! I know central park, i know places geographically because i read comics and watch TV ... thanks world, screw you school I owe you nothing. We cut across to different pairings of x-men characters discussing either there feelings about Xavier's speech that is about to transpire or events in their personal lives that are happening or have happened in surrounding issues. Little asterisks direct us to the relevant issue if we’d like to catch up these ourselves. Thanks comics, it was actually very helpful back then to have a point of reference to call back to or to further our reading.. another thing comics seemingly have abandoned today (can anybody reading this tell me why?). These conversations give the characters their voice and straddle a good balance between the picture/word ratio an 11 year old wants to see in a comic book. Scott Lobdell only got better at this as time went on but read through this issue and you’ll find he did so well to cram in foreshadowing, back story, character and truth into those speech bubbles, the man, i feel, has been forgotten in a way since the 90′s, his talents seem under appreciated. 

Another thing he does well is to control pace and actually build towards events, we’re four pages in before the title card/opening credits/ splash page hits us and it happens after a third page so you have to turn the page for a reveal, it’s not given away by accidentally glancing over to page 3, no, page 4 is the perfect place for these pages. What is the reveal? Two anti-mutant terrorists are planting explosives to violently disrupt the peace rally, making bigoted slurs and all until BRRZT... BRRZT ..Cable shoots them both in their mother effing backs, stops to reveal himself and pose for the camera and ...what... HE’s got dibs on Xavier? Uh-oh.

We’re left hanging as we’re then shown Cyclops daydreaming as he waits for Jean Grey. His telepathic girlfriend walks in on him fantasizing about teammate Psylocke.. yes Scott.. that’s why Jim Lee re-designed her as such, we all did that. This sequence takes on different meaning at each age that i’d read this issue. 11 year old me sort of got it, teenage me got it but didn't completely get it and adult me wold get conflicting emotions about getting it. See, Scott Lobdell could write soap opera with merit. Same goes for the next scene where Iceman and Colossus in their civilian identities are doing the x-mansions grocery shopping. Because the x-men weren't the Avengers and were always more relate-able because they did things actual people did when they weren't superheroing. Everyone can relate to a supermarket run. I probably coerced my mum to buy me this very issue while she was on said supermarket run. My man at the time Gambit is interacting with storm, this is what i thought was cool at the time kids. A roguish (no pun intended) charm, a trench-coat over a singlet top and shorts... the undercover exercise look, was all the rage in the early 90′s.. look it up..go.

Then we cross to a sidebar of other x-team, X-Factor, preparing to watch the concert. Lobdell writes them with all the spirit, voice and character that Peter David, who was writing the hell out of X-Factor at the time, did.

So lets re-assess, so far Lobdell has shown us Archangel on date, Professor X and Lila Cheney, Bishop and Rogue, Storm and Gambit, Cyclops, Jean, Iceman and Colossus and name dropped Beast, Forge,and Psylocke AND shown us X-Factor. And i’m still on the edge of my seat already because of the ominous way Cable has been introduced. This is how you write a team book that’s going to have it’s reach into a 12 part cross over. We aren’t even at the catalyst event yet. Scott Lobdell, again ladies and gents, Scott Lobdell.

Suddenly...

Cyclops and Jean are ambushed by ex-X-factor teammate Caliban. We’re given a page of Cable in the crowd as the tension builds, we cross BACK to the action away from the concert we’re colossus and iceman are attempting to join the Caliban/Cyclops/Jean fracas until they’re ambushed by War and Famine... um.. the characters, they aren’t suddenly having an existential crisis with the actual concepts, and then we’re back to Xavier. Who’s giving an inspiring speech about race relations that is extremely relevant 25 years on. This again is a great example of Scott Lobdell’s talent to shift from fever pitch to still and thought provoking in a manner of pages. Even the layout of pages 18 and 19 are in contrast to each other while being at the same time relevant to what the written words are saying.

And then...?

BRAM... “CHARLES!!!!!”

Cable takes his shot, shooting Xavier from the crowd, and even though you knew it was coming (It’s on the cover remember), it’s still a shock, it still jars the reader. Lobdell slaps you in the face and shakes you, but doesn't let you catch your breath as we’re back immediately to battle with Caliban and the side battle with War and Famine (the people not the concepts).. the action has reached it’s fever pitch. Both battles end abruptly and as a reader you’re thrown into total confusion with this three pronged attack of events in succession so by the time you’re back to the chaos of the concert you’re in the same emotional state as the characters should be.. reacting to these overwhelming events that have just unfolded.

In a nice nod to the theme of the issue on race, something Lobdell also writes well and treats with detail and respect, it’s revealed that Archangel is wearing an image inducer to blend in with the crowd, speaking in a subtle and layered way on identity. He springs into action, or reaction, going straight for Cable as some of the other characters we’ve seen in this issue race to the Xavier’s side. The situation is dire. Cable eludes Archangel by teleporting out. (”Celebration bound” you absolute asshole, Cable). And then we’re taken to the current whereabouts of another team, X-Force, who are Cables charges and are just now witnessing the news footage of events and we’re left on a cliffhanger with them.

The executioners song has begun.

THE ART

Brandon Peterson, i’m assuming, was given the art duties on this title because his style was similar enough to Jim Lee’s. I don’t mean that as an insult, it stands enough on it’s own so that the two can be distinctive of each other but at least the influence or some of the stylistic tropes are there.He does extremely well at adapting to the pace of the writing in the book and he moves the story sequentially very well. I hadn't realized he more or less has 6 splash pages in this issue, but they’re used well and effectively at the right times to visually tell the story and give the right moments weight and impact. A hallmark of the early 90′s culturally and in artistic meaning, was the mullet, and Peterson’s mullets are right up there with the Bagleys, Romita Jr’s and Lims of their day. Another 90′s thing to do for some reason, and it would only get more pronounced through out the 90′s, was the tendency to use a characters trademarked logo when their name is being shouted out, see the point where Archangel soars towards Cable. How would that sound i wonder? Bucking the trend at the time, Peterson’s expressions aren’t just blank or gritted teeth. Faces in a panel are reacting to what is happening in that panel logically. Also characters aren't just dressed in some stock depiction of clothing. Only Jamie McKelvie, i feel, has a knack for capturing the clothing and trends of the exact minute, but Peterson’s characters dress to reflect their personalities, even Gambit (discussed above) and with only the exception of Rogue, who’s civilian outfit is a rejected costume idea with a military green X-jacket that she’s torn the logo’s off (I’m on to you Rogue). Bishop is dressed like the militant tightwad that he is, Cyclops is fathers day catalog K-mart. Jean is Danielle Steele non-descriptive female actress. Archangel is rich guy wears suits. Iceman is swinging single guy, Colossus is drab, loose fitting artist. I used to wonder why nobody wore brands in comics or dressed like people i knew but they wouldn’t. You wouldn't get the visual idea of their character in one glance if they all wore street brand hoodies and designer jeans.  Peterson is also really good at slightly playing with convention and perspective. Larger than life moments like Caliban bursting through a ceiling or Colossus and Iceman changing form and charging into action are embellished by exceeding the borders  and constraints of the panel. 

So that’s it for this issue. 

Thanks for reading if you’ve read it through. I’d love to talk about it more with any of you, these posts are also on the twitter link if I've done it correctly. The Instagram account is where i share photos of the tattered issues I've just danced down memory lane with and i’m hoping to get up a curated playlist of things relevant to this review on the YouTube channel in time. (Just give it time).

#xmen #uncanny x-men #xfactor #xforce #comics #comicbooks #reviews #flashback #90s #scottlobdell #brandonpeterson #art #writing #archangel #bishop #rogue #cable #cyclops #jeangrey #xavier #professorx #cartoon #marvel #marvelentertainment #marvelcomics #xcutionerssong #xovers #crossovers #throwback

[paul-doyle]

From The Hills Of Northern Vermont, Bill Lee, Pitcher-Philosopher, Still Plays A Full Schedule

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

July 8, 2001

CRAFTSBURY, VT. - On a sunny afternoon in June, the Craftsbury town common is virtual Rockwell.

On one side of the common, a church sits atop the hills of northern Vermont. On the other side, children play in a schoolyard. A white gazebo stands on a sprawling lawn that is framed by tree-lined streets.

Amid the quaint New England scene, Bill Lee is on a roll. Holding a beer in one hand, wearing knee-high rubber fishing boots, a black T-shirt and cargo shorts, Lee sits on a folding chair next to the gazebo and recites his thoughts on everything from baseball in Cuba to life in Vermont. His references range from Ernest Hemingway to Buckminster Fuller as he sprinkles stories with anecdotes from his pitching career.

The man who calls himself a Roman Catholic Buddhist is very much in the moment, losing himself in his stream of thoughts.

That seems to happen when the camera is rolling. And on this day, a crew of documentary filmmakers that recently followed Lee on a trip to Cuba is filming him. The Boston-based crew is producing a film about Lee for PBS and is interviewing him in the town he has called home since 1988.

Leaning forward, sipping his beer and talking about Cuban culture, Lee speaks in front of a hand-held camera and a boom microphone. The scene seems surreal, yet no one stops to watch. Cars and trucks rumble past the common and no one slows to catch a glimpse of the gathering.

``The cameras just keep coming,'' says Lee's estranged wife Pamela, who is home while Bill holds court on the common. ``Same drill all the time. He takes them to the common. They film him at the baseball field. He might go to my daughter's school. Never ends.''

Current Events

It has been 19 years since he wore a major league uniform and even longer since he was entertaining New England sports fans as a member of the Red Sox, but Lee won't fade away. Every so often, his name appears in the news and he is ripe for a quote. The latest instance was the arrival of Don Zimmer's biography; Lee accused the former Red Sox manager of throwing the 1978 season.

When Lee reappears on the pop culture radar screen he reminds the world why he is such a compelling figure. An ex-jock who refuses to give up his game -- he continues to play baseball and softball (as a pitcher, DH and first baseman) in barnstorming games and senior leagues all over Canada and the United States -- Lee is still among the most intelligent and literate professional athletes.

Lee, 54, divides his time among several spots. Craftsbury (population 1,000) is home, but he can just as easily be found staying with friends in Florida or several spots in New England, or he could be in Montreal, western Canada, Washington State, California, Mississippi or Arizona. Camping, visiting family, playing baseball, signing autographs, giving interviews -- it's the nomadic life he has seemingly lived since he first donned a Red Sox uniform more than 30 years ago.

``I'm a man on the move,'' Lee says.

The beauty of Lee's life is its unpredictability. Each morning, he talks baseball on a Montreal radio station. Each Thursday, he tapes a baseball-related show for a Montreal TV station. On any given day he is speaking to sports reporters from all over the country, spewing his thoughts on the game.

But his depth of knowledge appeals to a diverse audience. How many former athletes attract a writer from The New Yorker and a film crew from PBS in the span of months?

Only Lee.

Spend a day with Lee and it's easy to understand the interest from the mainstream and literary media. You will hear rants about everything from the Red Sox to Vermont's civil union law. You will hear his philosophies on life as you tour the farms and rolling hills of northern New England. You will hear off-color jokes and watch an aging New England celebrity move among his neighbors without a hint of pretense.

But don't mistake this for an average day in Lee's life. There is no such thing.

In the morning, Lee spends a few hours with the PBS crew before returning home. He bickers with Pamela, whom he married in 1982 and is in the process of divorcing. He feeds his rooster and chickens, he attempts to complete a few household projects, he runs errands and he watches his daughter play tee ball.

He is pensive and serious. He is lively and gregarious. He tells jokes and stories and plans his next trip.

``This is home,'' Lee says, ``but I'm a nomad. This is my New England base. Catch me here or I'm off. There's always a game somewhere.''

Shopping With The Spaceman

As Lee enters a supermarket in Morrisville, which borders Craftsbury, heads turn. Shoppers stop, gaze at his boots and smile. A teenage girl who apparently knows Lee razzes him and asks if he's expecting a flood.

``Haven't you heard?'' Lee answers. ``The floods are coming. I'm ready ... are you?''

Inside the store, Lee stops at the bank and deposits a check. All five tellers are transfixed on Lee, who jokes about his shorts and boots and his search for someone to groom his lawn while he is on the road.

``Any of you girls interested?'' Lee says.

In four days, Lee will be playing in a baseball game in western Massachusetts before flying out of Bradley International Airport, bound for Winnipeg. He will spend about a month playing in a senior baseball league and living with his girlfriend in Calgary.

Lee says he must have enough money to last through July, since he's not sure when he will return to Vermont. When he receives a slip from the bank teller, Lee winces and studies his account balance. He stares at the ceiling, raises his index finger and recites numbers.

He closes his eyes and smiles.

``Cool,'' Lee says. ``More money than I thought. I'm all set. Maybe I can buy myself a new pair of pants.''

The bank tellers, hanging on Lee's every word, burst into collective laughter.

``You should stick with the boots ... very flattering,'' a teller says.

Pushing his carriage toward the produce aisle, Lee turns and waves. The bank tellers are rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.

``Those are my girls,'' Lee says. ``They love me.''

As Lee walks through the supermarket, he talks about his upcoming week in Craftsbury. Alternating between his various home projects and his pickup basketball games, Lee realizes he has busy week.

His primary concern: finding someone to tend to his home while he is away, since Pam will be moving to Georgia with their daughter Anna, 7. The divorce will be final in a matter of days and Lee will retain the Vermont home, which he built on 14 acres of land 13 years ago.

The divorce has been brewing for over a year, but it is now imminent and Lee will be forced to visit his daughter in Georgia. At home, Pam indicates Bill's schedule is a problem -- he is almost an absentee father because he is away so frequently.

His wayward life contributed to the end of his first marriage. As his career was winding down, Lee and his first wife, Mary Lou, separated in 1981 and she eventually moved to Mississippi. While Lee was living in Montreal, New Brunswick and eventually Vermont during the 1980s, his three children -- Michael, Andy and Caitlin -- were in Mississippi.

His grown children now live in Mississippi, California and Washington. He has a grandchild in Spokane, where Michael lives, and his aging parents live in the San Francisco area.

``I try to make a loop,'' Lee says. ``I'll be out in Calgary with my girlfriend. We'll spend a week in Spokane and see my grandson, we'll head down to my parents for a week, then I'll see my daughter and eventually be back up in Canada. I see everyone.''

Now, Anna will be in Georgia -- another state on the itinerary.

Simplicity Pattern

Through all of the traveling, Lee rarely stays at hotels. Many of his expenses are covered by organizations that ask him to speak or sign autographs, so his out-of-pocket expense is not great.

Which is necessary, since Lee prides himself on simplicity. He has a pension from baseball and derives income from his TV and radio appearances in Montreal. He also runs a fantasy camp in Florida each spring and is continually in demand for appearances throughout New England.

Just two weeks ago, he made an appearance in Bristol and played in an afternoon game at Muzzy Field.

``I'll go anywhere,'' Lee says. ``And I've never overcharged.''

But even with the various sources of income, Lee is not living an extravagant life. He says he earns just enough to live, and boasts of his self-reliance. He taps maple trees and sells the syrup. He saves scraps of wood and makes his own baseball bats. He raised his own chickens for food and often rants about living a life that has little impact on the environment.

After finishing his shopping -- steaks, a bottle of red wine, some Ben and Jerry's ice cream -- Lee squeezes his 6-foot-3 frame into a reporter's rented Toyota Corolla and is off to his next stop.

Why the compact car when he owns a perfectly functional Pathfinder? Lee says the Toyota burns less fuel and is better for the environment, so he sacrifices comfort for his principles.

``Any little thing we can do for the earth,'' Lee says. ``Nothing wrong with this car. It doesn't take a lot to make me happy. I'm a guy who doesn't need a lot. I really am.''

Yankee Mind-Set

Inside a store that sells farm and lawn supplies, Lee immediately notices an employee wearing a Yankees hat. Lee is also taken by the cage of chickens, which cost a mere $1.25 each.

``Give me two of the meat birds,'' Lee says.

The boy with the Yankees hat grabs a box and opens the cage.

``Which ones?'' he asks.

Lee is leaning against the counter and smiling. His grin widens and his eyes flicker.

``The ones with the big legs and no brains ... and the little Yankees hats on them,'' Lee says.

Lee bursts into laughter. He repeats the line and even asks where the little Yankees hats are as the kid pulls the chickens out of the cage.

``It keeps going, doesn't it?'' Lee says. ``It never ends. It all comes back to the Yankees. You can't make this stuff up.''

Back in the Corolla, more jokes follow. The punch line for one involves the resemblance between Yankees fans and various parts of the human anatomy.

Lee says he never tires of the rivalry between the Red Sox and Yankees. When Zimmer's book arrived in the spring, the calls to Vermont came from all over the country. Reporters were looking for a response from Lee, named by Zimmer as the one player he would never invite to his house for dinner.

First, Lee said he wouldn't go to Zimmer's house because he had no interest in seeing 1950s furniture.

Later, he said Zimmer was secretly working for the Yankees in 1978. Zimmer, Lee said, threw the '78 season and is now being repaid by George Steinbrenner as an employee-for-life with the Yankees.

Lee says he doesn't hate Zimmer. He says he has no respect for Zimmer as a manager and still harbors anger about being passed over during the stretch run of the '78 season.

But the private Lee is far more thoughtful than the flaky persona he projects for the sports media. Many of his outrageous quotes are thought out and he will defend them with compelling argument, but he admittedly says things for effect.

``I'm honest,'' Lee says. ``I'm an open book. But I've always been a good interview because I read a lot. I'm well-versed. I know what I'm talking about. I like giving my opinions and stirring it up a little bit. Nothing wrong with that.''

While he continues to fan the flames of the Yankee-Red Sox rivalry, he is really more tied to Montreal than Boston. He is visible throughout New England, but he has virtually no relationship with the Red Sox and jokingly said he was distraught when the team did not invite him to the recent 100th anniversary celebration.

He does, however, have a cordial relationship with Red Sox general manager Dan Duquette. He says Duquette has always been friendly -- or as friendly as he is capable of being.

``I think he's a little weird,'' Lee says. ``You know, he cuts his fingernails when you sit with him. He does this weird, bizarre stuff. His behavior is, like, strange. He kind of reminds me of Nosferatu, kind of a vampire-type guy. Like he comes out at night or something. A New England, Stephen King character. Just kind of weird.''

In the 1970s, Lee shook the baseball establishment when he said he sprinkled marijuana on his pancakes. Turns out, he was joking.

He compared Billy Martin and George Steinbrenner to Nazis. He went AWOL when the Red Sox traded his friend Bernie Carbo and he left the Expos when they released Rodney Scott.

And recently, he called Graig Nettles a Neanderthal.

``It all comes back to the Yankees,'' Lee says over lunch. ``I mean, that's my life. Look at the stuff that happens. The kid with the Yankees hat? It was too easy. It's just my life.''

Political Animal

Lee is very much at home in Vermont, a state that balances the traditional values of New England farmers with the radical politics of aging hippies. This is a state that elected socialist Bernie Sanders to congress and was the first to sanction same-sex marriage.

As Lee drives through Morrisville and Craftsbury, he points out the ``Take Back Vermont'' signs along the road. The signs represent the more conservative, anti-civil union faction in the state.

``Here we have the homophobic idiots in the state,'' Lee says. ``These are the people who live in trailers and vote for Bush because they think they'll get a tax break. Bush doesn't care about these people. Why don't they understand that?''

In 1988, Lee ran for U.S. president under the Rhinoceros Party banner in Canada. His platform: No borders, because the earth is a one-celled organism. And he was opposed to guns and butter (``They'll both kill you.'').

His political views are a reason he will probably always keep his home in Vermont. While he is constantly on the move, he loves the serenity of life in the mountains.

Lee's home was built on land donated by his friend Scott Reed, whom he met at a fantasy camp in the late 1980s. When he recently separated from his wife, Lee spent many nights at the Reed home just down the road.

As Lee brags about the benefits of living in Vermont, he also acknowledges that he will probably be spending less time in the state when his ex-wife and daughter relocate. For all of his bluster, that thought stops him in his tracks.

``I'll need a New England base,'' Lee says. ``But things will be very different. We'll see what happens ... I'm not sure.''

Another Chapter

Returning to his house after his stops in Morrisville, Lee drops off his new chickens and feeds his other animals.

The house is full of boxes, as Pam prepares for her move. Frayed Bill Lee baseball cards are scattered throughout, but there are few reminders of his major league life.

Anna studies the cards and knows her father was a big league player, but Lee says his daughter is unimpressed. Still, the bond between them is obvious. When he interacts with Anna, Lee is every bit a child.

When Lee greets Anna as school ends, he joins his daughter on the swings and asks her about her day as they swing side-by-side. He is reminded about Anna's activities -- pottery class, tee ball -- and Lee seems scattered and unaware.

This is an obvious source of strain between Bill and Pam.

``Maybe if you were home more,'' Pam says.

Lee has no answer. He shrugs and slips into a pensive gaze before saying he will be sure to attend the tee ball game.

``The left hand can't understand the right hand,'' Lee says as a way of describing his relationship with Pam.

Later, as he feeds the animals, Lee says Craftsbury is a perfect place to raise a child and he wants his daughter to grow up among the mountains and trees and farm animals.

The problem is, Lee is often away. Pam says she spends half the year as a single mother and has grown tired of the arrangement.

When they discuss Anna's skills as a tee ball player, Pam makes a point of saying Bill rarely sees her games. She also chides him for unfinished household projects and for his forgetfulness.

Again, Lee has no retort. He says he has accepted that his marriage is over and he is enthusiastic about his girlfriend, with whom he will live in Calgary. They will spend time at a friend's bed and breakfast in British Columbia, they will swim in the Fairmont Hot Springs in Montana and sleep under the stars.

``It's a great life,'' Lee says.

In between baseball and camping, Lee is writing a sequel to his 1984 book ``The Wrong Stuff,'' which was nearly produced as a movie starring Woody Harrelson. Lee hated the screenplay (``Too kiss-and-telly'') and the project died. His next book will elaborate more on his career and include stories about his post-career life.

The book will have all of Lee's thoughts, from politics and philosophy to baseball. And his thoughts on baseball are not limited to the state of the major league game.

As he watches Anna's tee ball game, Lee is restless. Sprawling on the grass, his hands cover his eyes.

``God, I hate this game,'' Lee says. ``Tee ball.''

Lee says he loves instruction, but he does not have the patience for uninterested 7-year-olds. He loves fantasy camps because he teaches the game to middle-aged men who have not played since their youth. ``Building teams with people who don't know how to play,'' Lee says.

He also has no doubt he would have been a good minor league instructor because he can relate to young players from all cultures. His trips to Cuba are proof. Lee brings equipment into the country and works with players even though there is a cultural and language gulf.

``The more diversified you are, the more tools you have to make kids listen,'' Lee says. ``Yeah, I would have been a good manager and coach. But [major league] teams wouldn't touch me.''

At the tee ball game, Lee is commenting on the mechanics of the players. The swings are too wide, he says. The players should know what base to throw to, he insists.

``They're 7 years old,'' Pam says.

Lee shakes his head. When the coaches tell a player to touch the base, Lee wonders why the coach doesn't tell the player to also tag the runner.

``Why don't they teach concepts?'' Lee says. ``You can do other things. They should know how to conceptualize.''

Lee also doesn't understand the rule that requires players to move one base at a time.

``Look, they're all content,'' Lee says. ``One base at a time. David Bowie, station to station.''

After the game, Lee instructs Anna on the art of hitting. Using an umbrella, Anna takes a few cuts. She mimics the sound of a ball hitting a bat, drops the umbrella and runs away.

Lee, continuing to preach about balance and a level swing, picks up the umbrella. Standing alone near the tee ball field he takes a few swings before talking to no one in particular about his hitting.

``Hit a home run in my first [barnstorming] game in Chicopee, hit a home run in my first senior league game, hit a home run in Cuba,'' Lee says as he walks toward the Corolla. ``I'm hitting the [expletive] out of the ball. ... Hitting's all about balance. I'm hitting better now than I ever have.''