#ivan the tow truck

[ecofinisher]

Cars Au (They’re humans, I swear)

So I watched Cars on TV abd guess what came into my stupid brain? Yeah an AU.

As Usual. The AU’s are differently from the canon.

Lighting McQueen = Adrien Agreste

Chick Hicks = Felix Graham de Vanily

The King = Wang Fu

Sheriff = Roger Raincomprix

Mater = Wayhem

Sally = Kagami Tsurugi

Ramon = Nathaniel Kurtzberg

Flo = Lila Rossi

Doc Hudson =Armand D’Argencourt

Fillmore = Kim Chien Le

Sarge = Max Kanté

Guido = Luka Couffaine 

Luigi = Ivan Bruel

Mack = Gorilla

Red = Marc Anciel

Harv = Gabriel Agreste

Adrien, a young and egocetric Nascar-racer has been throught the last racers of his young career winner of the first price and on his current race his goal was to to beat the record as the rookie with the most wins and to have a chance to get sponsored by the Chinese legacy, where Wang Fu, a veteran racer has been the past 40 years.

Due to disagreements between himself and the Agreste crew, he keeps refusing to let the crew change wheels during the race and near the finish line his tires crack and he arrives at the finish line at the same time as his main rivals Wang Fu and Felix Graham de Vanily.

After the ceremony the three are invited to race against each other to solve their issue on another racing track and Felix bets with Adrien, that if Felix wins the race Adrien has to owes him half of his earnings and vice versa Felix does the same to Adrien if he loses.

Adrien’s driver tried to convince him, that he should do the necessary things for his car or next time he could have had an accident and eventually die. Adrien doesn’t believe it would ever happen, but assures the driver it will be fine, it was just this time. Days passed and Adrien sat in his vehicle in the trailer of the truck talking with his agent, which also was his father and got convinced him and the driver to stay awake and drive the whole night long, so Adrien could practice earlier for the race. During the night Adrien’s truck is attacked and the driver released the trailer leaving Adrien’s vehicle behind and Adrien is waken by cars honks and Adrien notices he’s not on the trailer and races the highway along trying to find his driver and enters the wrong exit ending up being pursuied by a policeman named Roger, which arrests him after he accidentally detroyed the city’s belongings.

Meanwhile the driver had set a missing notification for people to look for Adrien Agreste or his last whereabouts and the driver explains, what happened.

Adrien wakes up finding himself in a jail and yells out his innocence and is encountered by Wayhem, which introduces himself to him and tells him about the town he was in. Roger appears and lists down everything Adrien caused last night with his car and showed his vehicle on the outside full of scratches and bumps, making Adrien whine about his “baby”. Escorted by Roger to the court he meets the judge Armand D’Argencourt, who after Adrien sigh bans him immediately without anymore words earning convtroversial reactions from the present townies. Before he gets freed by Roger one of the townies raises the hand and that person was a young woman around Adrien’s age, which stated the choice wasn’t a good one and suggested the best justice for Adrien would be community work and he would have to fix all the mess he caused to pay for his “misbehavior”

Attracted and annoyed by the Japanese-descendant lawyer of the town he is escorted to his first job by Wayhem, which was to put cement around the town’s statue of their founder. Unmotivated Adrien was trying to cement the ground and Wayhem suggested him if he would be more motivated, he could be faster and be able to leave the place without any more problems and Adrien follows Wayhem’s ideas and fixes everything in a few hours.

The judge Armand D’Argencourt came back and was horrified by his deeds and ordered Adrien to start all-over again and Adrien denies it and argues with the judge until Armand came to the conclusion to bet for the two to race together and the loser would have to fix the road. During the race Adrien suffers an accident and is patched up by the lawyer Kagami, which Armand had sent as she was one of the fewer people, that wouldn’t mind to deal with him. Kagami tells Adrien he has to re-do the things he did and do them all over again, but notices he’s pissed with everyone and says he should have done it right since the first time, so his car wouldn’t be ruined and half of his tasks were done.

The next day the citizens encounter the statue’s ground fixed with new planted plants around it and two light poles were fixed and everyone was impressed by it. Ivan and Luka had out of fun said, the town needed a new make-over and in the next hour the two had decided to fix their garage from both sides to make it look better and on the other side the owner of the gas station Lila had the same idea and had help from her artsy neighbor Nathaniel. Armand was fascinated, by what was going on and went to look around for Adrien and encountered him on the racetrack he had have an accident the other day trying to manage to pass by the two last curves, which he never made it without slowing or braking down.

Armand compliments him about his deed and gives him a tip for his driving, which Adrien didn’t quite get it and he tried it out, causing to wreck the second vehicle he borrowed from the confiscated vehicles of agent Roger’s parking spots.

With the time Adrien is working on his tasks, the townies managed to befriend him a little, including Kagami, which owned a small pension and offered him a room for him to overnight. Before the night Wayhem accompanies Adrien out of the town for the two to race together on a e-bike through fields at the farm of a farmer, which Wayhem claimed to be dead. Adrien find Wayhem was being ridiculous, cause it was strange for the goats there to be alive after all those years. While the two together annoyed the goats on the E-bikes out of the farm appeared a old man, which yelled at them scaring the two, then released his shepherd at the man to scare them away and the two escaped.

The next morning Adrien is looking for Armand as he needed his word and he enteres into his garage, where he encounters an old racing car and takes a closer look of it and finds out, Armand D’Argencourt was a famous racer and is caught by Armand, which scolds him for his behavior and after many questions of Adrien he answered, what had happened and why he was here. Adrien felt insulted about Armand’s hypocrisy about both of their differences and left him going to the gas station to get some coffee, where he mets half of the townies and Kagami asks Adrien, if he would drive with her around. Roger tells her to be careful on who she trusts and she assured him she trusts Adrien with all of her heart making Adrien feel weird at her action.

Adrien is surprised at noticing Kagami owned a sports vehicle and enjoyed with her their ride in it and soon Kagami ordered him to stop on the parking stop with a street heading up the rocky mountain and she asked the blonde to accompany him and show him the view to their town and the rest of the places far away from them. Adrien finds out, that Kagami used to live in a large metropolis, but got with the time sick of that live and left the place without having a clue, where to go until she broke down and landed in this town and stood due to the hospitality of the townies and their loyalty. Adrien got to know Kagami better and their town and felt bad to know, that their town’s popularity had sunken after several constructions out of their range.

While Adrien worked on the last task he observed Kagami talking with the other citizens, then pondered on any ideas to help out the town and the next day as everyone saw the messed up things were fixed, they were sad about Adrien’s exit, but Adrien showed up along with Marc and told them, he just went to help the firefighter man to do some stuff they would see at night. Roger reveals to Adrien, that half of Adrien’s vehicle was fixed and he could ask Wayhem to tow his car and accompany him at his escort to the next city to inform about the disappearance. Adrien asked, if it was okay if he first asked Luka’s crew to continue to fix his car and for Nathaniel to color it afterward. The three men were excited and observed the racing car being fixed and the rest of the day Adrien fulfilled everyone’s wish as a customer, including getting his arm tattoed with “I love my mama”

At the night Kagami was called to meet the townies at Marc’s garage, where they introduced a nicely dressed Adrien and his racing car in new colors and wheels exciting Kagami for Adrien’s success and his deeds for the townies. Adrien revealed, that he spend the whole night with Marc to exchange all the lights around the city, making Kagami happy as the town looked like it was a few years ago, when the town was more popular. Luka brought out with Ivan a stereo system to play loud music for all to dance together. Adrien began to see Kagami in a different light and during the dance he leans in for a kiss, but is interrupted by Wayhem, which mentioned to have seen a large crowd of vehicles heading to their town and as they approached Adrien shrieked realizing that those were journalists and paparazzis, which surrounded Adrien with questions and he tried to get out of there to his new-made friends.

Adrien’s driver appears too and apologizes him for what happened and mentioned, that he needs to bring him back or he will get fired. Adrien tries to get out of the crowd stopping by Kagami, where he tries to talk with her but couldn’t come out with something and as Adrien’s driver announced him he would get fired because of not convincing Adrien to get back into the car, Kagami tells Adrien to go and thanks him for his amazing job with the town, then both are separated by the journalists and Adrien is guided into the vehicle along with the driver and the crowd departed leaving the townies back and Kagami caught on the leave one of the journalists talking to Armand, which confesses in the end, that he told the people about Adrien’s whereabouts making the townies sad, mostly Kagami and Wayhem, which left the man back, followed by the others leaving Armand back, which felt disappointed about his decision.

The next day Adrien was on the racing track with his fixed racing car and he couldn’t concentrate on his race and entered into the pit stop box, because he wanted to quit, but to his surprise he encoutered there all the townies, including Armand D’Argencourt, which admitted he had done a mistake and wanted to help Adrien out on his race. Adrien continued his race following D’Argencourt’s instructions and tips, getting the lead of the race for the rest of the rounds. On the last round Adrien continues to lead in the race with Wang Fu and Felix behind him trying to surpass Adrien. While Wang Fu tried to keep Felix back on the third place Felix tried to pass beside the veteran and hit him on his back, causing him to loose his control and fly out of the track crashing on the outside of the road shrieking all the viewers, including Adrien, which witnessed it by seeing it on the screens over the arena. Adrien stopped his car before he could pass the finish line and turned around to help Wang Fu out of the car and sat him back inside his car and is questioned about his deed and Adrien confessed to him, that winning didn’t matter to him anymore and after Felix won, Adrien offered to help Wang Fu finish his last ride today, which he accepted.

After the race Adrien thanks Armand and the townies about their appeareance and is interviewed by journalists and Adrien apologizes on live for his past behavior and promised to be a better person from now on.

Days later he appears with the rest of the townies back on the city and encounters Kagami on the rocky mountain, where she was observing the town and informed Adrien, that she had seen him arriving. Adrien announced her he would want to move there to be close to his friends and mainly to be with her, earning a smile from the lawyer, which pulled him into a kiss and confessed, she had been eagerly waiting to do that after knowing he would return.

#weird ideas #au #alternate universe #miraculous #miraculous au #adrien agreste #Kagami Tsurugi #adrimi #adrami #adrigami #kagadrien

[diveronarpg]

In fair Verona, our tale begins with RENZO CAROZZA, who THIRTY-ONE years old. He is often called RODERIGO and works as a SPARROW. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.

TW: DEATH, ADDICTION, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP

Love me, love me, love me. He knows that it was the first thing he said in the form of infant wails -- he screamed it at the nurses that held him, at his mother who cooed her adoration, at his father who watched with ill-disguised indifference. LOVE ME, he cried, cheeks coloring with fury at the thought of being deprived a necessity at so young an age. He would soon found out that not everyone will. There are some people that simply don’t know the pinnacle of beauty and charisma, though it glares at them quite blatantly -- as he often did when his father refused his demands and shut the door in his face. His mother, though, recognized beauty and the limitless potential that saturated everything her sweet Renzo did and for that, he always recognized her as the better of the two. When he called, she simpered at his feet. When he DEMANDED, she made sure he got what he deserved straight away. There was a relentlessness to her devotion that he knew he deserved and could not help but appreciate, though, reflecting back on things, perhaps he should have appreciated it a little more. Then again, he appreciated her as much as she was able to and if she knew him, and truly loved and adored him as she claimed she did, she would have understood that what he affection he gave her was without reservation. And, because of that, he made his PEACE with her death, dew-drop tears glistening like diamonds as they streamed from his eyes. 

He thought then, that perhaps his mother’s death might have spurred the long sought-for clarity that his father needed to recognize the gift that was his son, the GLORIOUS and dashing Renzo. But instead their relationship became even more estranged, despite the young Carozza’s best efforts. It was a rather easy thing to do when two men lived inside a villa so large that neither of them had to cross paths, should they wish it -- and it became quite clear that was his father’s intents. So he made due with the servants and the caretakers that would frequent the halls and go about the rooms, enchanting each and every one until it was clear they were besotted with them, that they simply couldn’t help but eat out of his hand. The one time that he crossed paths with his father, it was with a young woman in tow, a guest of his father’s who was closer to Renzo’s own age, an oversight that the often-benevolent Renzo couldn’t help but note. Kind as he was, Renzo gave his father the benefit of the doubt -- perhaps the woman clung to his father for the riches that he offered, but CLEVER little Renzo could not be taken for such a fool. So ( now pay careful attention because this is where this Aphrodite-kissed boy truly shines ) he learned to tug at her heart-strings, slowly, carefully -- until she was half-crazed by the sudden onslaught of adoration she held for him. While in the act of WORSHIPPING at his altar his father, unfortunately, had been left at the wayside by the pretty little thing who dared to think she could love someone other than Renzo.

All in all, he took his father’s fury in stride, thinking it far more romantic that he be cast out of the house and forced to live with his artist boyfriend, who thought of Renzo as nothing less than Eros-incarnate, of LUST and BEAUTY personified. Their romance was heady, intoxicating, and reckless but it was the romance that only he could garner from someone; obsessive, crazed, and grand. Although, after careful consideration, perhaps it was a little too grand. When he finally thought it was time to wash his hands of his lover and move onto the next, his poor lover took to the bottle, seeking happiness in the form of PILLS on the day that it came for the young Carozza man to move out. When it came time to pick up his final box, he was rather dismayed to find that lying next to it was the dead body of his lover. Unfortunately, there was no room in the moving truck for him. So he called an admirer of his, a woman that worked as a Sparrow, and asked for her assistance. As they did away with his poor lover’s body, he couldn’t help but charm her, couldn’t help but tug at her heartstrings in such an easy and effortless way. You could make a pretty penny as a Sparrow, she sighed as she helped him wash the scene of crime, it is so very easy, Renzo, to fall in love with you.

There was no reason for him to doubt the truth of her words -- in fact, it was only affirmed because, he thinks, that Mona fell a little in love with him too. Him and his coquettish, playful ways. His transition into his role as a Sparrow was SEAMLESS, the title fitting him as easily as custom-made Gucci rings. Although, even with all the attention and adoration that is lavished on him each and every day, he can’t help but feel his discontent grow as the years drag on. What would have once satiated him is now leaving a yawning, hungering HOLE in his heart. Even with the many clients that come calling at his door, he cannot find it in himself to be contented -- not with the gifts that they offer or the many shiny things they bring. The secrets that they whisper in his ear are worth so much to many others, but so little to him. Love me, he demands while his fingers seek purchase on his lover-of-the-day’s throat. Love me until I beg you to stop. He knows in his heart, though, that Renzo Carozza will never be one to beg. 

IVAN RAHAL: Frustration. There are a handful of people that don’t fall at his feet the moment they meet his eyes and the most frustrating, by far, is Ivan Rahal. There are times when Renzo thinks he can see it, a flicker of interest and something dangerously warm in their gaze, but in the next second it’s gone and he is left clawing for it all over again. When Ivan steps foot in the Dark Lady, all the other Sparrows know that Renzo is at the top of the pecking order and they make way for him as he tries, time and time again, to capture and hold the attention of his elusive man. Though he wouldn’t dare muse on it for longer than a half-second, Renzo knows why he grows so frustrated. When he is with Ivan, it seems that the yawning hunger in his heart pauses, breathes, and purrs -- for once, well and truly satiated. 

RONAN IVARSSON & FELIPE CASTRO: Client & Inconvenience. There is one thing that Renzo simply cannot abide and it is keeping incredibly juicy secrets. A person might think, Wait, Renzo, isn’t that your whole entire job? And he would honestly answer, Yes, but none of them are that interesting. Sleeping with a city councilman, though? Often times he has to bite his tongue because it is simply that difficult for him to not gloat about how he thinks the great Ronan Ivarsson might very well crawl on his hands and knees to spend another night with him. Better yet, there is also the mouth-watering specimen that resides with the Sparrows at the Dark Lady that makes concentrating on his job rather difficult. Why he lives there, no one quite knows, but if he doesn’t move out soon Renzo can’t help but take advantage of the situation. How could he let such an opportunity go amiss? 

DAPHNE ALLARD: Fascination. He wonders if she notices how his gaze lingers on her. There are few people that he thinks are as beautiful as he, but there is an allure about Daphne he finds oddly arresting. It snatches him and holds him captive, begging him to lure her close and closer in, to make her sit at his feet and yet he also wants her to sit right beside him. For the longest time he thought that his hold over her was unshakeable, could never be reckoned with or tempered, but recently he has realized a frightening truth; that her hold on him is just as unforgiving. Renzo is a clever man, he can play people’s heartstrings like a virtuoso, but he has never once thought that they were capable of doing it to him. He knows he should watch his steps with Daphne Allard -- he couldn’t afford to be placed in her pocket as an informant -- but there’s something about her that dares him to come a little closer. So he does. 

HELOISE MAKSIMOVICH: Echo. Narcissus and Echo are far too romanticized. He did not realize this until he met the unrelenting Heloise. It’s a pity because that was one of his favorite stories he has ever unearthed, but when he met her a new understanding of the age-old tale came with it. Narcissus loved himself so much that he practiced self-care by ignoring the creepy, longing gaze of Echo -- but, unfortunately, he can’t quite find it in himself to do the same. Although she’s rather incessant, the time that they spend together gives him the opportunity to practice which ways he can get his clients to adore him all the more. A careful drag of his hand along her shoulder, a sweet sigh that has her swooning that much more. If he keeps on like this, she’ll be the Echo to his Narcissus to the end of time. 

Renzo is portrayed by DON BENJAMIN and was written by ROSEY. He is currently OPEN.

#lsrpg #literate rp #bio rp #crime rp #rp #renzo carozza #m #neu #om #o

[rowdywarrior85]

STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: 8/11, PART 1

[DISCLAIMER: This story in purely fan-fiction, meaning I own no rights to the show STRANGER THINGS, its episodes or characters. Basically, this story is my interpretation of the show, its episodes or characters. Forewarning, there will be descriptions of violence (sometimes graphic), adult content and language; if you have kids under 17 reading this story, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Either way, hope you enjoy it.]

(We open to black.)

KALI (voice-over): Your mother sent you here for a reason, remember? We belong together. There’s nothing for you back there. They cannot save you, Jane.

EL (voice-over): No. But I can save them.

KALI (voice-over): Jane. JANE!!

(Smash open to a sunset looking over the city of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The theme song to LAVERNE & SHIRLEY starts up in the background. Snaps of beer breweries, cheese products and of course Packers fans. Camera then pans over an abandoned brewery, in one room Funshine tortures Axel over a game of chess with an episode of LAVERNE & SHIRLEY playing on the TV.)

FUNSHINE: Something on yo mind, brutha? Check.

(Funshine moves a bishop 2 steps forward.)

AXEL: Oh, I got alot on my mind, Funny. Mickie and Dottie are out getting grub, you’re kicking my ass in a child’s game, and our fearless leader is currently moping in her “penthouse” since “Shirley” fucking bailed on us.

FUNSHINE: Aight, A) Chess is a strategic game for all minds and all ages. And B) Jane obviously had her reasons, despite Kali’s feelings about it.

AXEL: Yeah, well, this strategic game is whuppin’ my goddamn aging brain.

(Funshine chuckles at Axel’s predicament, then looks up to the supervisor’s office up top. Inside, Kali is seen moping over a Polaroid picture she’s holding in her hand. The Polaroid consists of her and El/Jane smiling in the van, El/Jane with a warm smile and her arm draped around Kali and her lustful lip-lick. She turns to the radio with CALL ME by Blondie, then turns the dial to static. She then proceeds to close her eyes, holding the polaroid in her hand, concentrating on El/Jane. Camera cuts to a black space, the Void, she walks around until she hears gunshots and commotion coming from her right. As she closes in, she discovers it to be El/Jane watching an episode of MIAMI VICE with Mike. She then proceeds to observe them holding hands, kneeling close to El/Jane, looking to her with envy.)

KALI: (deep sigh) Lucky.

(Outside, the gang van pulls in. Funshine and Axel hear it outside.)

FUNSHINE: Soup’s on.

(Axel gets up to address the van.)

AXEL: You’re late, girls! Fuckin’ starving here!

(Inside the van, Mickie gives a vacant expression on her face.)

HELL-O!!!

FUNSHINE: Bad news, brutha. CHECKMATE, MUTHAFUCKA!!!

(Suddenly, a gunshot goes off, going through Mickie’s head, splattering her brain matter and blood across the inside of the windshield. A scream from Dottie is heard inside the van.)

FUNSHINE: Oh my God!

AXEL: HOLY SHIT!!

(Kali snaps out of her Void visit, puts the polaroid in her inner jacket pocket and bolts to the window. A thick, aged Russian voice barks from inside the van.)

RUSSIAN VOICE: My sincere apologies for intruding on your dinner plans, cossacks!

(A 60 year old, silver-haired and bearded, stocky Russian agent in a black suit strolls around from the back of the van. He has Dottie in tow as a human shield, with a standard issue Marakov handgun in his right hand pointed to her right temple, and his left hand tight on her left shoulder. Axel pulls out his .45 and points it at the uninvited guest, but Funshine motions him to be cool.)

I am simply here one reason. Your leader, a Hindu girl.

(Axel and Funshine look to each other. Suddenly, the intercom is activated from Kali’s suite.)

KALI: (over intercom) Who’s asking? And for the record, I’m British.

RUSSIAN AGENT: Oh, my apologies, devushka, I am Special Agent Ivan Perdovski, enforcer of Science Division of KGB. We’ve been looking for you for some time now. Rumors of people seeing things that are not there...

(As Ivan talks, a platoon of Russian soldiers along with Spetnaz commandos around the brewery.)

…a tunnel caving in at Pittsburgh,…

(Kali recalls doing that.)

…a former hospital orderly seeing old ghosts,…

(Kali recalls that, too.)

…and of course, a steel wall appearing in front of cops at abandoned factory in Chicago. Coincidence? I think not.

IVAN: Listen to me, comrades. We just want girl, give her to us, and we consider you all loose ends. But if I see something out of ordinary, you all die today.

AXEL: (laughing) “We”? I think you might be up in your age, “comrade”. Cuz the way I see it, it’s all of us and ONE… OF… YOU!!

(Ivan laughs at the gang.)

IVAN: (Russian) TAKE NO PRISONERS, I WANT THE GIRLS ALIVE AND UNHARMED!!!

(Soldiers and Spetnaz burst through the doors and windows. Axel and Funshine are shocked by the intrusion, as a hidden blade jets out of his left jacket sleeve and slits Dottie’s throat. Funshine is shocked even further, whilst Axel screams in agony.)

AXEL: DOTTIE, NO!!!!

(Blood pours from Dottie’s opened neck wound as she falls to the floor with hand to her neck, and ceases to move.)

YOU COMMIE FUCKERS!!!

(Axel fires his gun wildly, Ivan draws fire as he goes for cover.)

Get Kali and get the fuck outta here!!

(Funshine signals to Kali that need to roll out. A Spetnaz commando heads up to the upper level after Kali with Funshine following behind. The commando heads up to the Kali’s room, when he unexpectedly runs into a wall, the commando is perplexed and proceeds to turn around, only to be met by another wall. The walls begins to close in on the commando, he screams in Russian with floods of panic, only to be met by the force of Funshine’s right cross. The commando falls like a sack of potatoes, the walls simply disappear; Kali peers around the corner, wiping the blood off from her nose, smiling to Funshine as he squats next to the unconscious commando.)

KALI: Grab his weapons, Funshine. We’re clearly not safe here.

FUNSHINE: You don’t gotta ask me twice, K.

(Funshine grabs the commando’s AK/Grenade Launcher combo, a claymore mine and ammo. The two make their way to the exit, but are stopped by Ivan’s voice.)

IVAN: YOU WOULDN’T LEAVE YOUR REMAINING COMRADES BEHIND, WOULD YOU, DEVUSHKA!?!

(Kali motions to Funshine to stay by the exit while she peers over the door to the main loading dock. To her horror, she sees Axel on his knees with Ivan’s pistol pointed to his head, with the Red Army pointing their guns at her perspective door.)

IVAN: Drop your weapons and surrender the girl to me, calmly.

AXEL: (looks sharply to the door) FORGET ABOUT ME, KALI. YOU JUST GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! SAVE YOURSELF!!

IVAN: You have ten seconds to make up your mind, surrender yourself, and your friends will be spared.

(As Ivan counts down from 10, Kali looks to Funshine, who nods at her not to do it. By 7,Kali motions to Funshine to shut up while she uses her powers on the Red Army. By 5, she looks over, raises her hand up in her signature gesture.)

…4 …3 …2

AXEL: WE’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, KALI!!!

(With that, Ivan puts one between Axel’s eyes, Axel falls to his side lifeless, the Red Army opens fire as Kali pulls back and ducks.)

IVAN: (Russian) HOLD YOUR FIRE!!!

(Soldiers cease fire.)

I WANT THE GIRL ALIVE!!

(Kali sits by the door in disbelief, all but Funshine are killed as she holds back her sadness. Funshine grabs ahold of her.)

FUNSHINE: (whispering) There’s another exit out there, we can make it.

(They both look at each other in affirmation. As Ivan and his troops wait, a cloud of smoke jets out of the door. The soldiers ready their weapons.)

IVAN: (Russian) Wait!!

(The cloud envelops from the door to the exit left of the door. As Ivan looks in fascination, we see Kali using her abilities to generate an illusion of said cloud to cover herself and Funshine. Camera pans over to Ivan and his troops who see nothing but the cloud. As the cloud inches toward the exit, a timid soldier shoots at the exit causing her to stop yet she keeps the illusion. Ivan shoots and kills that soldier in frustration, Kali and Funshine continue to the exit, at the same time she looks on to her comrades. When they make it to the exit, Ivan looks her cloud with a light smile.)

IVAN: (chuckles, English) You can’t win, devushka. There’s nowhere you can’t go where we won’t find you.

(Kali then motions to Funshine to see a nearby forklift. Funshine takes note and shoots the propane tank on that forklift, detonating it to provide a distraction long enough for the two misfits to escape. While the soldiers recover from the disorientation of the explosion, Kali and Funshine make for a black Ford cruiser sandwiched between two army supply trucks. They both get in, Funshine hotwires the car to start, and both get the Hell outta Dodge. Ivan and the troops run outside to their vehicles.)

IVAN: (Russian) They made off with my car, we can track it! Kill the assailant, but I WANT THE GIRL ALIVE!!!

(Ivan gets into the passenger side of an army truck while the other one goes ahead. Kali and Funshine race through the city with the Russians in pursuit. A Milwaukee cops notices the Ford speeding by.)

COP: (grabbing the radio communicator) All units, all units. We got a black Ford cruiser blasting through downtown. Request backup, over.

COP #2: (over radio) 10-4. Backup arriving imminently, over.

(Five more squad cars join the pursuit.)

IVAN: (Russian) Local police. Let them pass. Trust me.

KALI: There’s a junction up ahead.

FUNSHINE: Gotcha.

(The Ford blasts through the junction with Russians and sirens in hot pursuit. Kali closes her eyes and raises her hand. The cops approach the junction, when suddenly, …)

KALI: Boom.

(…the middle of the junction starts caving in. Cops hit their brakes in a panic.)

IVAN: (Russian) All stop now!!

(The cops braking in the middle of the junction results in a horrific car accident from all directions. Ivan looks on in astonishment.)

She’s good, real good.

KALI: There’s a bus station three blocks from here, park one block before there.

(Funshine looks down and sees a node with a blinking red light, indicating a tracking beacon. He looks up modestly to the road with concern, then looks to Kali.)

FUNSHINE: Gotcha.

SPETNAZ DRIVER: (Russian) Tracker is still working. Target is making for the local bus station.

IVAN: (Russian) Good.

(Funshine parks the car one block away from the bus station.)

KALI: Right, let’s roll.

(Kali steps out of the car, then looks back at Funshine, who sits solemnly in the driver’s seat.)

Fun, what’s wrong?

FUNSHINE: Houston, we got a problem.

(Funshine points to the tracking beacon to Kali.)

KALI: Shit.

FUNSHINE: Yup.

KALI: Then, we need to go now. Ditch the car.

FUNSHINE: No, Kali. YOU need to go.

KALI: No. (sniffles) You’re not doing this to me.

FUNSHINE: They’ll find us wherever we go.

KALI: (voice breaking, tearfully) If you stay, they’ll kill you too. Then I’ll have nobody.

FUNSHINE: Bull. Shit.

(Points to her jacket, specifically where the polaroid of her and El/Jane)

KALI: Fun, I can’t face her after she…

FUNSHINE: She’s the only family you got. You don’t have to face her now, but when the time comes, you’ll have to. You two are gonna need each other, sooner or later. But for now, you need to get on out now. Take this,…

(He hands her a $100.)

…get on the first available bus. Go, and don’t ever look back. We’ll be with you always,…

(He then points to her heart.)

…right here.

(Kali shares a final tearful hug with his gentle, giant, muscle bound friend.)

Now, go on kid. Go, now!!

(As Kali makes a break for the bus station, Funshine takes the claymore, ties the tripwire around the handle on the door, and faces the claymore toward the door. Funshine then sees the Russian convoy surrounding him. Ivan motions one of his Spetnaz commandos to the car. Commando knocks on the window, Funshine acknowledges him. Commando then motions him to open his window, Funshine smiles and decides acknowledges him.)

FUNSHINE: Evening, officer. Is, uh, there a problem?

COMMANDO: Where is girl?

FUNSHINE: You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, sir. What girl?

COMMANDO: No bullshit. Where is special girl?

FUNSHINE: You know what, I’m afraid you just missed her. She showed me quite a time, if you boys got here sooner, she could spread some love for y’all red-necks. Know what I’m sayin?

(Commando growls at Funshine, then turns to Ivan. Ivan nods up to the commando, commando turns back to Funshine.)

COMMANDO: Step out of car, comrade.

FUNSHINE: Tell you what. Why don’t you be a pal and, uh… open the door for me. Think you can do that, “comrade”?

(Funshine then chuckles and takes his middle finger shows it to Ivan. Ivan looks at him sternly, but as the commando opens the door, he eyes widen.)

IVAN: NYET!!!

(But it was already too late, the commando swung open the door, triggering the claymore. The commando looks down in disbelief.)

COMMANDO: (Russian) Fuck me.

(BOOM!! The claymore takes Funshine, the commando and most of the troops. Ivan is blown back, but survived with a slight burn on the left side of his face, most of his hair gone. Camera cuts to the road floor, where an plastic orange bear mask is seen half burnt. The explosion was heard clear across to the city limits where a bus is leaving Milwaukee. All the patrons saw the explosion, including Kali who sits in the very back, she sits back down in tears, knowing the last of her crew is gone. Camera cuts to the front to front of the bus, then pans upwards to show the destination of the bus, “California”.)

BUS DRIVER: (over intercom) Alright, everybody. We’re all safe and sound now. Next stop, Sunny California.

TO BE CONTINUED…

[ivandrago6s-blog]

Wixom Towing Service

Address:

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Wixom, Michigan, 48393

Website:

https://www.wixomtowingservice.com/

Email:

[email protected]

Phone:

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Owner Name:

Ivan Drago

Hours:

24 Hours

Category:

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Description:

Tow Truck Service best rates, Vehicle Lockout Service, 24/7 Emergency Towing, Flatbed Towing, Heavy Duty Towing, Long Distance Towing, Roadside Assistance, Roadside Service, Tire Change Service.

[hybrid-nox]

Car broke down on the way home from Montreal. Sent my love and friend home with the tow truck and waited out my own rescue at a Tim Hortons in Ottawa. I spent the afternoon reading Gender Failure by Rae Spoon and Ivan E Coyote awaiting my rescuers then had a great drive home with great company. Watched the sun set as we drove through Haliburton.

#Haliburton #ottawa #montreal #timmies #gender #Gender failure #reading

[maine-writes]

Ivan Deals With Critter Issues

The arrangement sounded simple enough. All Ivan had to do was keep an eye on Maine’s potted plant, Charlie, a common zebra haworthia (or Haworthia attenuata to plant aficionados), while Maine broke Patty out of prison (which was beginning to annoy the raccoon, as this would’ve been the 5th time that month). In exchange, the critter promised to bring back some tacos from a small food truck on the other side of the city. 

But as the blue earth pony precariously dangled below the Harpstring Bridge, he (as with you) wondered how he ended up in such a position. The only thing keeping him plummeting into the freezing waters of the River Renaud below was an outstretched concertina that was caught onto the door handle of Banana Pie’s Bananamobile, which was also precariously leaning over the edge of the bridge, held there by the perfect balance it somehow achieved. And sitting atop the fruit-themed vehicle’s hood was Charlie, stll in his little plastic pot. 

From under the bridge, Ivan could hear the sounds of battle still raging above him. He heard whirring and popping, thrashing and gnashing, and suddenly a monstrous roar. He felt the bridge quake as the fighting raged on, the metal groaned as unseen beams twisted or bent. 

With a sudden lurch, Ivan felt himself fall for but a second before being stopped by the concertina. As it stretched, not only did it let out a disconcerted hum, it also let out a notable crack. 

The rush of adrenaline helped Ivan remember what eventually led him to hanging over his doom. It had been several hours since Maine left, and Ivan’s stomach had begun to twist and turn, groaning and moaning for any form of sustenance. So instead of waiting for the raccoon, he decided to go and get some tacos himself. Of course, leaving Charlie behind would’ve been irresponsible, so he brought the plant along too. 

He was on the bus to downtown when the fighting began. A few cars ahead, a pair of aardvarks in trench coats jumped out of a very small electric car wielding machine guns and began shooting at a massive stone dragon that had perched atop the bridge. Understandably, everypony panicked and rushed out of the bus. 

Ivan, with Charlie in tow, trailed behind the group of panicked ponies when the terrifying drake swooped down, dragging its massive tail across the street, striking several vehicles, including the Bananamobile. Now, when one finds themself in a situation where a large metal vehicle is hurdling toward them, they may experience a sense of clarity. Normally, one would attempt to dodge the automobile by hopping or dipping horizontal to the oncoming mass of very deadly metal. Foolish, or otherwise dim, individuals may attempt to stop the wall of death, usually failing horribly. But Ivan, being neither normal or dim (the very definition of Ivan has been the subject of debate between scholars for several years now, with little to no progress being made ever since Sir Arthur Author’s infamous “Waifu or No?” argument in 2015), decided that the best course of action was to jump upward. 

Although he landed on the hood of the car unharmed, an impressive feat by itself, he soon found himself being thrown off and over the bridge, being saved by a very convenient and inexplicable concertina. Somehow, Ivan was thrown by the force of the Bananamobile crashing through the brdige railing, but Charlie was not. How this came to be is known only to Charlie and the very familiar Ostrich that watched from afar. 

There was something, a sort of glimmer, that told of the bird’s understanding of the universe. As if he knew what circumstances aligned to allow for such a strange sequence of events. And as he observed, silently, from the side of the river, he waited for the eventuality that was destined to be. 

A chain of warm pretzels lowered down to Ivan, and when he glanced upward to see who was holding it, he spotted the chubby mocha brown pony, Soft Pretzel. Surprisingly, the chain of baked treats was able to lift Ivan up from his predicament (not to mention also smelling fantasic). 

After finally retreating to safety, Ivan found himself reflecting on his choice of friends. Specifically, he wondered if everypony Maine knows has to deal with similar chaos on a regular basis. But with an innocent glance at Charlie, the little pony came about a realization; the critter trusted him with something. It may not have been something important, but it was something. Perhaps Charlie was the one normal thing in the critter’s life. To be trusted with protecting the very symbol of normality, the one anchor to reality, has to mean something. 

Probably not. 

@pony-ivan @askbelgianwaffle @askbananapie

#a story inspired by my new plant #named him Charlie #why Ivan? #why not Ivan? #a silly story

[dipulb3]

Ford's new F-150 will test whether truck buyers really want hybrids

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/fords-new-f-150-will-test-whether-truck-buyers-really-want-hybrids/

Ford's new F-150 will test whether truck buyers really want hybrids

A full-hybrid pickup represents a major leap for Ford (F). While hybrid pickups have been offered before, they’ve typically been of the “mild hybrid” variety, utilizing small electric motors to provide minor gains in fuel efficiency. As the hands down market leader, Ford could have just carried on with its traditional engine lineup. But instead it has decided to invest in a hybrid system capable of meeting the demands of its demanding truck buyers.

It’s nearly impossible to overstate the importance of the F-150 for Ford. The F-series trucks, which include the F-150 and its larger Super Duty siblings, such as the F-250 and F-450, have been the best selling trucks in America for more than 40 years. Buyers picked up almost 900,000 F-series trucks in 2019, accounting for more than a third of Ford’s sales in the US, and they are responsible for a very large part of Ford’s profits in North America.

Ford has been willing to make major revisions to the F-150 before. In 2014, Ford unveiled a F-150 that featured a lightweight all-aluminum body that improved fuel economy while allowing more load-carrying capability. Cars, particularly luxury cars, have been made with lightweight aluminum bodies before. but it was a radical idea for a “Built Ford Tough” pickup.

Competitors’ ads, particularly from General Motors (GM), took shots at the very idea of an aluminum truck, but the F-150 kept its ranking as America’s bestselling vehicle and aluminum bodies have continued as an F-150 feature. Even GM’s flagship pickup, the Chevrolet Silverado, now contains a large portion of aluminum alloys in its bodywork.

This time, Ford will unveil the first full hybrid option for a large pickup from a major manufacturer. GM offered mild hybrid trucks years ago and Ram, the North American truck division of Fiat Chrysler Automobiles (FCAU), offers mild hybrid options on its pickups now.

But those are very different from what Ford will be offering. Mild hybrid vehicles have only small battery packs and weak electric motors designed just to help the vehicle to get moving. They get somewhat better fuel economy but the trucks can’t drive using electric power alone.

A full hybrid vehicle, like a Toyota Prius, Ford Escape Hybrid, or the truck Ford will unveil, stores power in relatively large battery packs and has stronger motors that can drive the vehicle, at least at low speeds and under light loads, without the gas engine having to run at all. Hybrids don’t need to be plugged in, although some can be as an option. Instead, they store energy when the gas engine is running and during braking.

People tend to associate hybrid technology with relatively small and light vehicles that are not designed for hard work. So it will be interesting to see how well people embrace Ford’s new hybrid option on the F-150. A lot will depend on how well it’s engineered, and how much it can do beyond saving on gas. said Ivan Drury, an industry analyst with Edmunds.com.

Saving money on gas is important to a significant portion of truck buyers, of course. These are large vehicles that come with large fuel bills so anything that can make a dent in that is a major benefit, especially for fleet customers. But buyers also want the towing and hauling capabilities that they’re buying a truck for in the first place.

Saving fuel and being able to work hard are not incompatible. A good example is Ford’s 2011 introduction of its EcoBoost turbocharged V6 engine as an option on the F-150, said Drury. Originally greeted with skepticism, the EcoBoost engine was embraced by F-150 buyers once the technology proved itself capable of performing in a hard working truck, he said.

“The EcoBoost is a case where they rolled it out and the [customer acceptance] has just gone up and up and up,” he said.

Today, the 3.5-liter EcoBoost is the most popular engine option in the F-150, according to Ford.

Price will also be a critical factor for Ford’s new hybrid truck. How well-accepted the hybrid option becomes will depend on whether it will be priced as a niche option for well-heeled shoppers and company fleets, said Allyson Harwood, an analyst with Kelly Blue Book.

“I think that they want this to be something that people see as a valid option for them when buying a truck,” said Harwood. “So it would be in everyone’s best interest to have that as available at a fairly reasonable upgrade price.”

Ford will continue offering their mainstay V8 and diesel engines in the F-150, Drury said, because there are customers who will just insist on what has always worked for them. But Ford’s penchant for innovation will help push the whole industry forward, he said.

“People get to sit back and watch the innovator,” he said, “and the receptivity toward what Ford does is a great litmus test for all the other brands to see how far they can go with this supposedly very traditional market.”

Ford also plans an all-electric version of the Ford F-150, although that truck is not expected to be unveiled on Thursday. The electric truck market will be much more crowded than the hybrid truck market.

Ford’s electric F-150 will have to compete against a number of other electric trucks. In addition to Tesla’s Cybertruck, General Motors is working on its new GMC Hummer electric truck, as well as others. Rivian, a Michigan-based startup in which Ford has invested $500 million, is also making an electric truck. (Ford has said its electric truck will not use Rivian’s technology.) Nokia (NOK), a company that makes alternative fuel semi trucks is also working on an electric pickup, while Lordstown Motors, a company that bought GM’s Lordstown assembly plant, plans on making an electric truck there.

[frankgiunta]

Wrongful death lawsuit filed by families of two men killed in fiery I-20 crash

https://frankgiunta.com/wrongful-death-lawsuit-filed-by-families-of-two-men-killed-in-fiery-i-20-crash/

Wrongful death lawsuit filed by families of two men killed in fiery I-20 crash

Photo: Glasheen, Valles & Inderman, LLP

Wrongful death lawsuit filed by families of two men killed in fiery I-20 crash

PRESS RELEASE: Glasheen, Valles & Inderman, LLP  Updated 3:48 pm CDT, Monday, September 10, 2018

ODESSA, Texas—A wrongful death lawsuit has been filed by the families of two men killed in the July 18 fiery crash on Interstate-20 in Ector County, Texas. The families of Kewalkumar Vyas and Ivan Dominguez-Jaimes filed the lawsuit against Weatherford US, LP and its driver, Samie Lee Whittington.

A copy of the lawsuit can be viewed here.

Jaimes was driving a Nissan Sentra sedan, and Vyas was a passenger in the Nissan. Moments before the crash, the Nissan and several other vehicles had slowed down for roadway construction. Whittington was driving a Dodge Ram 3500 truck towing a 20,000-pound piece of oilfield equipment when he slammed into the back of the Nissan at a high rate of speed. The Dodge hit the Nissan so hard that it came to rest on top of the Nissan after pushing it into the guardrail. The violent collision caused both the Nissan and the Dodge to catch fire, ultimately killing both Vyas and Jaimes.

The Dodge was owned by Weatherford US, LP, and Whittington was an employee of Weatherford. Whittington was cited for failing to control his speed.

The family of Vyas is represented by attorney Kevin Glasheen of Glasheen, Valles & Inderman. The family of Jaimes is represented by The Curtis Law Group.

The attorneys of Glasheen, Valles & Inderman conducted a post-crash vehicle inspection of the Dodge, including a data download of the airbag control module. The inspection revealed that that the Dodge did not brake until approximately one second before impact.

“The last-second braking we found is consistent with the type of distracted driving we, unfortunately, see more and more of nowadays,” said attorney Kevin Glasheen. “Through this lawsuit, we will discover why Weatherford’s driver was not paying attention to the vehicles slowing in front of him.”

Glasheen is seeking anyone who may have witnessed this wreck or its immediate aftermath. If you have information, please call [phone].

For information regarding the lawsuit, including interview requests, please contact attorney Kevin Glasheen of Glasheen, Valles & Inderman after 1:00 p.m. on September 10 at [phone].

Truck Accident Lawyer Texas

Truck Accidents

Frank Giunta and the team at Giunta Law, P.C. are some of the best in the business if you have been injured in a truck accident. Many motorists are injured or killed in motor vehicle collisions with 18-wheelers, tractor-trailers, and other large transport vehicles.  Collisions involving commercial vehicles kill and injure thousands of people each year, and due to the significantly larger size of these vehicles compared with smaller automobiles or motorcycles means many of these accidents are major, often resulting in terrible injuries that require compensation for lost wages, medical bills, and long-term care.

Most truck drivers abide by the many rules and regulations put in place to make the highways and roads a safe place to travel.  However, due to the mistakes of some truck drivers and trucking companies, motor vehicle accidents still occur at a frightening rate.  The frequent causes of accidents with trucks include:

Sleepy or fatigued drivers

Alcohol or drug impairment

Drivers with little experience

Insufficient training

Reckless driving or speeding

Aggressive drivers

Tailgating other vehicles

Not yielding the right of way to others

Poor condition of truck brakes

Oversized loads

Overloaded vehicles

Hazardous safety systems

Many of our clients have benefited from the expertise, considerable resources, and dedication of our team to go the extra distance to hold truck drivers and trucking companies accountable for terrible injuries or deaths occurring on highways and roads.  Having an experienced truck accident attorney on your side is very important if you or a loved one has been victimized by a truck accident.

If you have a family member who has experienced a wrongful death in a truck accident, contact us immediately at Giunta Law.

[qdesjardin]

4

The horror still shakes Curtis. He's sitting by an ambulance, a medical team checking him and Josh, and breathing in from the oxygen tanks gives a lucidity to his thinking, to the reality that he'd barely made it out from a horde of Muslims.

He doesn't want to think about the cafe owner's screaming, or how a living human being could burn away until all life is gone..

This is the cruelty of human beings. The rashness we can treat one another, as enemies, and proof that barbarianism still resides in our blood. In fact, might I say that we've suppressed our animalistic instincts behind civility and political correctness, and the Muslims show a rawer side that we disassociate from, like an unacknowledged shadow.

The Muslims have kidnapped the cafe waitress – Josh tells the police interpreter this, and the officers murmur to one another in French before thanking him for his account of the events.

It's overcast and dark; the cafe fires have been put out. Some officers come with CJ and Josh to the checkpoint where they left their baggage. The van has been towed to the side, the back opened, and some luggage left unzipped. Police are investigating the area for the sudden murder of their officers and two young men.. the whole checkpoint is cordoned off.

Ivan and Martinez lie in closed body bags. Curtis scrambles over to unzip one of them – but gets told "Trust me, you don't want to, the face is so horrible.."

Then Curtis, wanting only to get the image of Ivan getting splashed out of his head, breaks down in tears. He cries out, pathetically unable to do anything, only bashing his fists against their vehicles, and when officers try to placate him, he fights and shoves one of them away – they know better, and so let him play out his inner struggle.

Curtis slunks to the ground, panting. "Why did this happen.. is this a dream?"

Investigator Bezu Fache comes to the fore. "Non, Curtis, it's not – you got caught in the eye of the storm."

A spotlight has their figures casting shadows against the fog. Fache decides the best course of action to calm Curtis down, it is by calmly explaining what they've made of the situation so far (appeal to the mind instead of placating the emotions). The Uzbek man who drove that truck and murdered the people was on a mission of delivering armaments to cells across the city. He's high on Captagon (amphetamine + theophylline, chemical courage), and in conjunction with his short fuse, he blew up the checkpoint upon seeing the newly implemented 'search and frisk' policy in action.

Heavy skid marks to the side of the road. He drove that truck around the van and burst through the gate, while running over the bodies.

They won't be able to easily identify the van because usually, the delivery boys find sanctuary in the Muslim zones – think of Raiders of the Lost Ark, where Indiana Jones has just stolen that truck with the ark, and the Egyptians hide his truck afterward from the Nazis.

Then to make it more difficult, they modify the truck's license plate, body paint and even the body frame if necessary to have it continue the mission disguised. The police don't have much jurisdiction in these zones, thanks to the Muslim council – formed a few years ago, who would protest against any Muslim mistreatment.

"You were extremely lucky to be alive," Fache remarks, "and in one piece. I wish I could say more, but I hold no promises. Those two.." he gestures at the bodybags, "were your cherished friends, no? And you held such a strong friendship with them."

Curtis nods.

"Love and trust – a scarce luxury amongst our times. Remember them and honour them in your heart, Curtis." He pats Curtis by the shoulder.

They're too exhausted from today's ordeal to bother continuing on with their road trip. Luckily their luggage is intact.. and as for Ivan and Martinez's stuff? Just make a discreet call to their family and mail their luggage back to their homes. Oops, I got sidetracked; anyways, the only other option is stay at a hostel, and when they've processed that brain fart out of their heads, find an option to leave France for good.

Just to show them a fledgling of that genuine French spirit, Fache offers them both a dinner at his personal favourite restaurant – Chez Ernie, where the food is served by the chef himself to his best clients.

Ernie himself is so kind; he makes his own wisecracks and jokes out loud to himself, serving the dishes, and it just takes Josh and Curtis's minds to a much better, relaxing place.. the food is just so good, the oysters, the curry-fried pork with dashes of onion, the lemon-lime cake for dessert..

They leave the restaurant fulfilled as fuck, and thank the good detective so much. Josh is picking out a hostel to stay at (those are cheap btw) on his phone, when Curtis sees with his eyes.. a park. No.. an indoors garden. A pathway leading down to someplace that's glowing bright colours, with an illuminated billboard beside – "The Garden of Hopes."

Curtis, feeling intrigued, asks Josh to visit there. And Josh: "No, we can't afford to be sidetracked."

But Curtis doesn't seem to hear, as he finds himself stepping down the passage – he feels the atmophere enveloping him deeply. He finds again the scent of nectar.. of Lillian, and then some more, as strange new scents come to his nose. Naturally sweet and dainty. And when he turns around a corner, he is greeted by the sight of phosphorescent flora, growing from obsidian pedestals, the tree leaves emitting blue and violet, with all the flowers ranging from a pristine red to yellow – like aquatic life brought to you in garden form.

It is a plaza filled with everlasting peace.

Curtis sits by a bench and relaxes himself – his mind drifting away to serenity. Dreamy feelings fill his attention, and a small part of him wonders how he hasn't stumbled across or heard of this place earlier. He would've believed in the romance of Paris, blossoming fruitfully in his heart.

Josh has followed Curtis downstairs- he too is in awe.

It seems so comfortable that Curtis considers just sleeping here instead of a proper hostel for the night, rules be damned. "Let's hope the security guards don't spot us.." Josh goes.

So they sleep under the phosphorent leaves.

They wake up, totally refreshed, and to the tune of a gardener named Quon who's trimming some leaves from a ladder. She's humming, and as the leaves fall they don't lose their lustre – it looks like a rain of colours, and for one brief moment, it feels like that ball dance all again where Curtis is holding Lillian, feeling her energies as she twirls under the vibrant lights.

If only his phone hadn't run out of power, he would've made a quick reference to the place's address.

They still have money – a few hundred Euros on their bank accounts. Oh, they have another option; it's taking the TGV. Ivan's option of the road trip to the north and the ferries is quite roundabout. If say, they can arrive in a different city with an international airport, they can just bypass the Paris congestion that has everyone's feathers ruffled.

So after finding a bite to eat from a nearby bakery, it's off to the TGV. It takes a while to fumble for a taxi (Uber drivers? No way, you can't trust that), and on the ride, Curtis asks Josh to hold his hand tightly – not in a gay way, but more like something of assurance to hold onto, to trust.

A news alert blares on the taxi's dashboard. The route they were on has a bunch of rabble-rousers, so the driver tells them to hang on, as the onboard GPS calculates a different route through the city, across the Pont Alexandre III bridge.

The bridge.

It's devoid of anyone, but there's ferries crossing underneath it. The taxi driver grinds the car to a crawl, and Josh + Curtis are totally confused as to why. Deep down, they know something's not right, and upon asking the driver, he tells them normally people would be all over this bridge – it's a tourist attraction. In riots or dangerous situations however, the bridge becomes a deathtrap; it's a long way to commit crossing.

The driver consults the onboard computer, swiping away the official taxi alerts and consulting the social media instead. In light of the cafe incident yesterday, French rioters take their stand against the current government, and are willing to shoot/beat any Muslims they encounter on sight. The voice is spreading – "Our France, forever!"

There's smoke, and just behind them, the rioters are progressing – you hear their unified chants, along with some light explosives popping.

The driver, wearing a turban (he's Sikh), knows that if he gets caught out by the mob, they'll decimate him for sure. He's on the young side of taxi drivers, panicking like he's too young to die, so he just floors the cab forward across the bridge – Curtis and Josh internally clenching from the sudden acceleration, and on the other side are the police..

The police are armed with riot gear, they have a converted fire engine with them. Spotting the taxi advancing on them with the rioters in background, it's only natural to assume that the taxi could've been commandeered with explosives..

"TAXI!" their commander goes. "STOP YOUR ENGINE!"

The taxi veers forth.

"Hey, you should stop!" Curtis goes, tapping on the dividing glass. "Pull over!"

But the driver doesn't seem to hear. He's mumbling something to himself, a sort of prayer.

"Stop the fucking car, now!" Curtis screams, with Josh ramming the glass, expecting to get shot at any second now by the police. This doesn't happen; the taxi's engine is shutdown – remotely by the police, and the car skids with the wheels failing to maintain their prior momentum.

It skids off the road, collides with the bridge bannisters, enough that the taxi's front has gone over the edge..

The driver is quivering in his seat, pissing himself.

After a bit, Curtis and Josh clamber out of the car, smoke pouring from its front and drifting south along the river. They're dazed from the collision, unsure whether it's safer with the police or the incoming rioters, who are just crossing the bridge.

A few policemen nab them, with one trying to pull the taxi driver out of his seat.

They're handcuffed, dragged back to the vicinity of the fire engines, and are interrogated in rapid French that none of them comprehend. Meanwhile, the commander orders the gathering crowd: "This is National Security! Disperse at once! Your protests are but a waste of energy and time!"

The crowd doesn't care. In their midst they've brought some old trucks – improvised explosives attached to their trunk, like fireworks, and it's their trump card when the people clear the way for the truck drivers to rev down the road.

"Stop them! Shut their engines down!"

The police, in their cruisers, try to lock on the incoming trucks whose engines are like a shrill, mechanical yelling – no on-board computers.

Josh sees this coming. There's no way the police can hold them off – he instantly kicks the holding officers. "CJ, we gotta dive! We have to get off the bridge!"

A panic sets in. Could CJ really float with his hands cuffed behind his back?

"Open fire!"

The police try to shoot down the truck drivers. Roars of deafening gunfire, with the firetruck hoses turned on, full blast – hoping to stop or swivel the trucks off path.

It's two trucks, one on each lane. The left truck's windshield is geysered with bullets, its driver erupting into pieces and the engine getting totalled – a spark erupts, and in a cascading explosion its engine goes, followed by the gas tank and the explosive payload it's been carrying.

The shockwave flashes through everything in a 0.3km radius, and it rips through Curtis and Josh as they're just tumbling off the bridge into the waters below – shredding their clothes, bursting their eardrums, and sending them tumbling off from the force; the taxi dislodged and falling to the waters.

The other truck has its contents sent flying outward, like volatile shrapnel, which detonates mid-air as the truck just crashes through the officers into one of their firetrucks.

A second explosion – erupting much larger from the first; the vehicles up into the air. Fireworks puff and pop, and a huge torrent of steam comes from the ruptured firetruck (carrying water tanks). Anyone in the vicinity, if not blown away or on fire, has to deal with the scalding humidity.

You can't see what's in the smoke, but the rioters cheer at their major victory, and advance onward. Their voices will not go ignored.

By then, Curtis hits the river and it hits his body much harder than he expected. His mind rattles from the sudden burst of water, the explosions, the total chaos of everything. Then he realises he needs to take a breath.

He sees he's almost hit the bedrock, as pieces of the bridge, and a few body parts land slowly in the waters. Nevermind that, he kicks his legs the hardest he's ever done; his pants have snagged on a piece of metal, and he wags his foot, ridding himself of it.

His lungs are on the verge of bursting; he's going to drown – he sees the rippling surface, and after a while of endless kicking he breaks for air.

The noise and chaos sounds too much, and his head bobs back underwater, only for him to go back up and breathe the arid smoke. The river naturally carries him away from the bridge, and he finds a glimpse of the ensuing rage up there – the people chanting for a better France.. where is Josh? He's nowhere to be found.

Curtis finds himself passing under other bridges, the Seine river flowing westward. He looks to getting himself back on dry land, and back-kicks himself to shore.

The police boats pass him by, but they're too occupied with the ensuring rioting, the flaming bridge to notice – a thought crosses through Curtis's mind, over his handcuffs; it's going to be a bitch to remove these metal fuckers, not to mention people'll just ask.

He'll say he got caught up in the riots and someone handcuffed him in a rage.

When he ends up by a pack of parked boats, a fisherman sees him. Helps him up with a pole on his shirt onto the boat.

"What happened to you?" the fisherman says, drying off the dripping wet Curtis with a towel.

"It's a long story," Curtis says, shivering. "They're rioting, and I got caught up in it."

"I've heard – it's so horrible! But.. why are you in handcuffs?"

"Ermm, I bumped into the police.." Curtis looks at the river for Josh, to no avail, the ripples of the wave fading away the colours of the sky and reflected buildings - the feeling of being truly alone dawning on him. No friends left to turn to. No family.

No Lillian.

Just that memory of a name once half-remembered – of that woman by the beach.

Clare.

The fisherman is pressing him now over the handcuffs. Curtis knows that he's not talking himself out of this situation, so he fools him into thinking he's going to cave in – then jukes around the guy, knocking him over, and scrambles to the boat's bridge so he could get off and find a way to the TGV station.

He hears the fisherman yell for him. He's like a headless chicken when running, and almost falls over as he gets onto stable ground of the walkway.

Other people nearby see the event. Curtis runs, panicking; those movies where you see teens make a break for it from their abductors come to mind. "He's an abductor!" Curtis yells. "He handcuffed me."

Tourist abductions do happen, and even though people don't quite make out what he's saying, they know his American accent, and with the fisherman yelling for Curtis to be stopped – the onlookers dogpile the burly fisherman.

One of them helps Curtis out of his handcuffs – a pocket knife through the lock does wonders – and after hearing advice to catch a cab to the American embassy and being given thirty euros, Curtis thanks the guy, and takes off for the streets.

It takes a long while for the taxi to reach the station, being that there's so much traffic being segued from parts of the city that are under rioting. The constant news being blared about it over radio, the kids in the nearby car too busy in their VR goggles to care, Curtis starting to feel hungry, tired out.

The East Railway station. Its architecture echoes the aristocracy of olden times blended with modernity.

Curtis gets off from the taxi. There's swarms of people – not really lining up for the till so much as being bunched together as much as space affords them to. People have been thinking of leaving Paris and France for years, like a brooding thought, and the explosion of violence today is a catalyst that triggers their decision.

It's funny how Curtis only has his wallet and spare change, while everyone else has their life tucked away in luggage.

The line proceeds slow. Before he knows it, there's more people lined up behind him, stretching out the entrance of the building. He's hungry as a motherfucker, aching for some food. Anything for a nice Subway half-footer sandwich in his mouth.

So Curtis leaves the line, knowing it means having to be at the far, far back again. As he walks, he sees the walking food vendors popping out of their corners (lunch break) to offer food, snacks and a free complementary baguette to the people in the lines, and Curtis is just a hair's width away from shouting out "Goddamnit!"

He winds up at a Subway in a food court, and with the last of his pocket change, gets that half-footer he's been saliviating for. Om nom nom.

A sleazy fellow at a table. His name is Vincent (and looks like Vincent Cassel). He reveals himself to Curtis as a transporter – meaning he literally transports lucky people onto the TGV train directly, no frills, just pay the price of two tickets and skip the hassle of the lines, baggage/security checks!

Does he accept VISA? He has a phone and a card reader jack accepting VISA, MasterCard, coin, Swiss Miles.. and only one spot left!

"Wait, do you charge extra if it's a different destination?" Curtis says.

Nope. Only thing that matters is that he gets Curtis (and some other people waiting) on the trains they want.

And without skipping a beat, Curtis swipes his card on the reader, and they shake on a deal.

Vincent leads Curtis over by a janitorial entrance, and in a utility room, there's a bunch of anxious Muslims with their luggage, with a few tourists. "Let's go, let's go-" he checks his watch- "Not much time before they start to check train tickets!"

It's a hurried pace to get to the train. They have to wait for Vincent to pause the security cameras, pause for any guards or busybodies, before they're on the move to the lower train platforms.

The TGV trains are triple-deckers. Luggage is stored on the bottom deck, and the train staff never check there. Vincent, working as a janitor with maintenance privileges, opens the emergency doors for each of the trains for the stowaways to close behind them.

"Thank you so much," the Czech tourist goes, on the same train to Strasbourg as Curtis is.

"God bless you all," Vincent says, before Curtis pulls the hatch door closed, and they're in an array of compartmentalized luggage.

An electronic horn sounds; the train departs.

While the small Muslim family huddle together, the mother feeding her little son some Turkish delight – the tourist jests small talk, as if to lighten the entire mood. "We going off on a wild adventure, eh?"

Then the sudden rush of acceleration has everyone feeling like it's a horizonatal roller-coaster, stomachs churning. The father whispers to his two daughters how it's only acceleration, and that the feeling will soon pass.

The Czech guy, his name Milos, is just a travelling salesman in a white hat and a suitcase, and talks about how awesome Paris is, how nice the people he dealt with are, the food – it is just such a shame that it's grown far too dangerous for him to ever consider coming back.

"You should visit Prague! It's so wonderful there!" he tells Curtis.

A while later, Curtis has to pee. The Muslim father tells him to watch himself above decks, as a few ticketing officers are known to have photographic memories – they can catch a new face even after going though hundreds of passengers.

Curtis clambers around the floor of luggage, before finding the stairs and awkwardly looking for the washroom in what looks like the second-class passenger area.

He finds a cubicle door. It's in use. Damn, and he's on the verge of exploding in his pants..

The door slides unlocked. When it opens, he sees her blonde hair, her eyes and her lips.

It's Clare.

For an instant, he forgets all about his bladder problems, while she returns his gaze curiously.

#mine #story outline #does anyone actually read this

[rutisup-blog]

Kiwi Ski Hill

My stomach growls as I sit here idly watching the new Blade Runner. I’m sitting atop that plush couch, plugged into one of the three internet connections in the lounge. This is one of the few places in town where you can plug your laptop in to get some Internet. I’ve got on my MacIsaac Hall sweatpants (Go assholes) and a gray underarmor shirt.

I’m wearing chucks with no socks on–you can’t go in the galley with flipflops and bare feet and my flops were still wet from the shower I just took–god that felt good. We just spent most of the day out snowboarding at the Kiwi Ski Hill. Here’s how that went:

***

I set an alarm for 10:00, intending to make good of an invite to join some skiiers from the night before. I don’t really like setting an alarm on the only day off I get a week, but what the hell–I like snowboarding. I snoozed it twice, and then decided I ought to roll out of bed and head down to brunch to see if I can catch these guys. They were just leaving and I didn’t expect to make it with them. My knee was still sore from running the 21 miles in my marathon attempt, so it was kind of a deliberate attempt to not go.

I made loose plans to go see the icebreaker with John and Ben, but I knocked on Joel’s door–just across the hall from Ben’s room. Joel answers, backpack with skiis on it and shit looking pretty damn ready to rock. “Ah I was gonna ask if you got room for one more still on the ski trip, but it looks like you’re all ready to go…” I say, asking if I can still come in a real Canadian fashion.

“Well if you can get ready quick, it’s no problem man”. “OK. give me five minutes”.

I quickly go to my room where my roommate is still snoozing, turning on my lamp to provide a -little- light so I can see what I’m doing.

Quickly quickly, I pack two IPAs in my backpack, and my camera and stuff is already in there from the night before–good enough. I quickly put on my snowboarding boots and grab a sweater and a jacket. I walk down the steps towards the front lobby and handwashing area of 155 and see Joel coming up the steps to see if I’m ready yet–awesome. We all walk out to the truck.

Truckin’ it up as far as we can

The plan is as follows. We load up the truck, and drive as close as we can to the ski hill. We’ll just hike up the Kiwi ski hill and snowboard/ski down and do this until we get bored of it. If we are lucky, the Kiwis will show up and set up the rope-tow. But it’s kind of an invite only thing, but if they’re around and feeling cool maybe they’ll let us use it. So we leave the base, and drive over the transition and onto the snow road. We get to the access road for the ski hill–about a mile and a half long. “Looks like just tracks” says someone, and they’re right. Only tracked vehicles have tried to come down this way. Our driver shifts into 4Lo and we edge up a bit on the snow and go about a foot…not looking good. We nearly got stuck there. We reverse back out onto the snow road. We’re walking in.

It’s about a 45 minute walk on the snow road. We get on crunching down that way, and about 2/3 of the way there we hear a vehicle coming up on us. It’s a Kiwi hagglund and it rolls up past us, a bunch of costumed people waving at us. I see someone I know as well. “They’re definitely going skiing, they have costumes!” I say. A few minutes later and a second hagglund with costumed occupants rolls up. Aww yeah, looks like they are going to run their ski lift!

We get to the ski area, and find that the Kiwis already have opened up their storage container and have set up some plastic chairs in the snow, facing uphill. A guy is carrying the rope up the hill, and rap music is piping out of the container. Everyone is costumed and having a fun time–it all looks pretty awesome. “What’s up guys, we were just gonna do a few runs” says one of us. “Yeh! Come join us guys!” says this Kiwi girl wearing a olive drab flight suit and sunglasses.

Bottom of the hill

Top of the hill

It’s a beautiful continent

Sweet.

“You guys didn’t bring your lift tickets! The ticket is to wear a costume!” they say to us. A minute later a girl wearing a blue pirate dress over her jacket brings us some costumes. “Here’s your lift tickets!” Joel takes these crazy floral pants, Mike has a black and white animal pattern blouse–which we jokingly call Antarctic Camo–and Ryan has a crazy paisley shirt. I put on a woolen christmas elf costume. It looks like we’re all sorted now. They show us where to grab some ‘nutcrackers’ so that we can use the rope tow, and then they give us a safety briefing

My knee is still kind of sore, but this is too cool to pass up. I’ve never used a ‘nutcracker’ type lift, but I get the hang of it pretty quickly. I ride up goofy the first time, grabbing the rope and then flipping the nutcracker shut on the rope pull, and up I go. I’m a little sore after riding, my knee kind of angry. I hang out and a drink a beer for like 30 minutes, just chillin.

There’s a potpourri of costumes here. One guy has a green wig on and a green tail. “I’m a mermaid, I swam in with the ship” he says, referring the icebreaker that has just crunched its way into McMurdo Sound from the ice edge–slowly and forcefully. There’s a man with a giant afro wig and leopard skin blazer. A girl with a New Zealand bike jersey, a dude with shorts and a black russian fur hat. A dude with a black and white vertical striped suit. We all looked cool as fuck.

The Ski Hill Crew

My knee is feeling better and I’ve got a little beer in me. I decide to try riding up regular, and it feels way better on my knee. I only make it up halfway before falling off, you aren’t supposed to ride up facing backwards. I try a few more times and I just starting riding it facing the other way with my back to the rope coming back on the return. Not the safest, but more practical. When I get to the top I just drop the rope and then lay down and throw the rope over me while I barrel roll underneath. It took me a few tries, but I eventually figured out a good system.

It was great, there was a little kicker and I got some air. I ‘sent it’ down the hill mainly. It was cool. Ryan could not get alpine skis out of gear issue, so he was trying out telemark skis for the first time. It was not going so well. Eventually he was using other peoples skis with this pair of ski boots he found in some building while he was working. With his scavenged boots and borrowing of idle skis, we felt it was appropriate to call him the “The Ski Skua”.

The Kiwi container was pretty cool. The inside was like a bar, with bar stools. There was a fridge and a stovetop. It was really cozy, and they had a thing full of hot water. “D’ya guys want some Tea or Coffee? We’ve got some hot water in here” said Kat the flightsuit Kiwi. She is a glacier guide when not on the ice. The hospitality shown by the Kiwis was awesome, and I opted for some instant coffee.

The afternoon was pretty chill, mainly lots of snowboarding and hanging out. I drank the other beer as well. We all hung out and snowboarded until about 1600. Some people we knew snowboarded down the hill from Castle Rock and saw us hanging out. The Kiwis were going to give us a ride. We were all loading up into one of the green hagglunds, and the Kiwis offered the rest of the Americans that had just shown up a ride. We all piled into the bench seats in the back trailer of the hagglund, and loaded our gear in their gear trailer. Man, these Kiwis know how to do it!

Loading up in the hag

High Occupancy Vehicle

We got a ride to the snow road where our truck was. We passed another American skiier on the hagglund ride back. We drove here with 4 and now we had 10. We loaded everyone up into the truck. 3 in the front, 7 in the back with all our gear. We rode back nice and slow back to the base. Ironically, we passed Ivan the Terrabus (capacity, 50?) which had zero passengers, while we had 10. It’s not often you have more passengers than Ivan.

We got back around 1630. Too early for dinner, but early enough to take a hot shower and put on some sweatpants. And thats just what I did.

Kiwi Ski Hill was originally published on RUT-IS-UP

#Kiwi Ski Hill #McMurdo Station

[goodnewsjamaica]

How The Harder They Come created Jamaican cinema

New Post has been published on http://goodnewsjamaica.com/world-view/harder-come-created-jamaican-cinema/

How The Harder They Come created Jamaican cinema

I’m in the middle of an ocean of people, converging as one on the side entrance of Carib Theatre in Kingston, Jamaica. It’s Monday evening, June 5, 1972, and this cinema I’m slowly pushing toward is hosting the first public screening of The Harder They Come. Somehow the pressure of the push and crush forces open the theatre’s side door. We pour in. The cinema’s 1,500 seats are filled in an instant. Very few of us, if any, have paid—maybe some planned it that way because they can’t afford it. Others, like myself, were prepared to meet the cost. There’s way more people outside the theatre than in it. What unites all of us, both inside and outside the Carib, is the fear that we won’t witness the initial screening of the first Jamaican feature film — and more, that we won’t be able to see ourselves on the silver screen for the first time. We know that the people who populate The Harder They Come are African-Jamaicans: grassroots sufferers, strivers, the middle class, Rastafari, all of them mirroring the very audience seated in the theatre.

An announcement tells us that we have to vacate the theatre. The Jamaican prime minister Michael Manley is outside the theatre, but the chaos on the street is blocking his entry; his fiancée Beverley Anderson, a TV personality and actor who has a role in the film, is already inside. We notice that the temperature is rising, and realize that the management has turned off the air conditioning to get us to leave. The heat is suffocating, but no one moves. The stand-off simmers with an ever greater sense of urgency. Eventually, the management decides to start the screening. The tense mixture of defiance and anxious anticipation hovering like a thick fog lifts, and a collective exhale of excitement permeates the room. By the time the film’s opening scene appears on the screen — a truck and a country bus meeting head on in the middle of Flat Bridge, a thin beam strip over the Rio Cobre, just after star Jimmy Cliff’s fantastic “You Can Get It If You Really Want” finishes playing on the soundtrack — everyone is relaxed. Laughter fills the theatre when the drivers of the two vehicles exchange comedic insults with one another. The audience’s joy and wonder sustains itself throughout the entire screening. The incident at the premiere is how The Harder They Come enters the world; it is born in circumstances that echo its own rebellious, innovative energy.

Jimmy Cliff in The Harder They Come

What the audience sees on the screen at the Carib that day is the story of Ivan Martin (Cliff), a young man who, lured by the promise of Kingston’s urban embrace, is on that bus looking to escape his humble rural existence. Seeking fame and fortune as a recording artist, Ivan falls afoul of corrupt elements in both the city’s music industry and law enforcement; when he violently defies both, he finds himself an underdog hero, a flamboyant, daring outlaw in the mold of the real-life 1940s gangster/folk hero Vincent Martin, better known as Rhygin.

The Harder They Come was the brainchild of director Perry Henzell, who was born in 1936 in Annotto Bay, a Jamaican north coast town in St. Mary, and grew up on the Caymanas sugar estate operated by his parents and located in St. Catherine. Although his heritage was upper-class and Euro-Jamaican, an early childhood experience presented him with a visceral understanding of Jamaica’s racial and social hierarchy. The decade of Henzell’s birth saw the emergence in Jamaica of Rastafari, an Africa-centric spiritual movement demanding equity for the dispossessed. When Henzell was four years old, Leonard Howell established the Rastafari commune of Pinnacle not far from Caymanas. A few years later, the young Henzell rode his horse to a building site where some of the Rasta brethren from the commune were working. “They talked to me about the Bible, because in those days I loved Bible stories,” Henzell remembered. “They looked ferocious, but in fact [they] were very friendly to [this] little white boy on a horse.”

The Harder They Come

This face-to-face encounter with the reality, and humanity, of the Rastafari — who were commonly viewed as vagrants, outcasts, the dregs of society — allowed Henzell to develop an enlightened perspective on these people and their way of life: “I wasn’t moving around with the bourgeoisie. My hero was the guy driving the tractor. I grew up like a rebel but lived in the big house.” Henzell’s compassion for grassroots African-Jamaicans persisted throughout his time abroad, first at McGill University in Montreal and then in London, where he obtained work at the BBC; returning to Jamaica in the late ’50s, he directed commercials for several years before he began developing what would become his country’s landmark first feature.

Henzell’s decision to make his protagonist Ivan a singer brilliantly tapped in to the current cultural moment in Jamaica. In 1968, just one year prior to the beginning of pre-production on The Harder They Come, reggae emerged as the successor to the homegrown popular-music styles of ska and rock steady. Powerfully influenced by the Rastafari philosophy, reggae at that time was above all a singer’s medium, its lyrics reflecting themes of freedom, justice, and equality for people of African heritage everywhere and for humanity as a whole.

Director Perry Henzell on set

As the late ’60s gave way to the early ’70s, the reggae aesthetic began to permeate the mediums of poetry, non-fiction writing, theatre, dance, and canvas art, leading to a veritable golden age of the arts in Jamaica. The music itself, meanwhile, became both a local and international juggernaut, dominating sound-system dancehalls on the island and in the Caribbean communities in cities like Toronto, New York, and London; records by the likes of THTC star Jimmy Cliff, the duo of Bob Andy and Marcia Griffiths, Desmond Dekker, and Lee Perry entered the mainstream charts in America, the UK and Europe on a regular basis.

In The Harder They Come, Henzell captures the spirit of the moment through a powerful soundtrack featuring Cliff, Dekker, Toots and the Maytals, Scotty, the Melodians, and the Slickers. More than just accompaniment, the songs on the soundtrack are an integral part of the film’s story, texture, and meaning; the title song performed by Ivan/Cliff encapsulates many of the film’s themes in its defiant lyrics.

The Harder They Come’s relationship to reggae, however, goes beyond music. The film is immersed in Jamaica’s everyday life and culture reflected through the creative beauty of reggae’s flesh and blood: Ivan’s struggle for a better life in the face of a rigid class structure; the presence of the Rastafari (in the person of the character Pedro) as righteous beacons of peace, love, and equity; the use of the Jamaican language; the argot of body movement through action and dance; and, of course, the reggae rhythm itself. Deeply and vitally engaged with all aspects of the movement, The Harder They Come is the film component of Jamaica’s reggae-influenced golden age.Making a film is a team effort, and for The Harder They Come Henzell assembled his cast and crew based on the cinema he aspired to create — a kind of cinema exemplified by directors like Ken Loach, Gillo Pontecorvo, and John Cassavetes, emphasizing collective creation, realism, and (in at least the first two cases) prominent political themes. Henzell thus met with such people as Rasta elder Mortimer Planno while conducting his extensive research for the film; he co-wrote the screenplay with the talented African-Jamaican playwright Trevor Rhone; selected noted Rastafari canvas artist Daniel Hartman for the role of Pedro; and, as the film’s hero Ivan, he cast Jimmy Cliff, a reggae singer with a prominent international profile.

For most of the talent in front of the camera — including Cliff, Hartman, Carl Bradshaw (as Ivan’s friend Jose), Basil Keane (as Preacher), Winston Stona (as the police detective pursuing Ivan) and Lucia White (as Ivan’s mother) — The Harder They Come represented their screen debuts. (Janet Bartley who portrays Elsa, Ivan’s love interest, was likely the only experienced actor in the film.) “I always cast on the assumption that I was trying to cast people that knew more about their role than I do,” said Henzell. That was certainly true of Cliff, who, like Ivan, moved from country to city and became a recording artist, and also of Hartman, who shared his character’s spiritual worldview.

The Harder They Come

The finely tuned authenticity of the performances is matched by the film’s attentiveness to the sights and sounds of 1970s Kingston, as captured by Henzell and cinematographer David McDonald (along with additional camerawork by Franklyn St. Juste and Peter Jessop). An early scene where Ivan first arrives in Kingston and is promptly ripped off by a handcart man neatly depicts the rhythm of abandon disturbing the city’s downtown streets. Sally Henzell’s art direction aids immeasurably in achieving the realistic textures that the director was aiming for, particularly in such settings as the humble room where Ivan’s mother lives. A sequence depicting a church service offers a precise depiction of how the sensual and the spiritual sometimes converge in these places of worship: a woman overwhelmed by spirit possession almost seems to be experiencing an orgasm, as the congregation itself reaches a frenzied climax to the pulsing beat of Jamaican hand-clap and tambourine gospel.

After its successful domestic run, The Harder They Come embarked on a world tour, with its director in tow (“I went to 43 different countries in six years,” Henzell recalled). The first stop was Europe, where it was met with an initially favourable reception: at Ireland’s Cork Film Festival it received the Editor’s Prize, while at the Venice Film Festival it earned an award for best soundtrack. Before Venice, the film arrived in the UK and played at Brixton’s Classic cinema, where the turn-out for the first screenings was disappointing, despite the neighbourhood’s significant Caribbean population. Henzell was forced to publicize the film himself by handing out leaflets in the neighbourhood, and — with these grassroots tactics and a positive review from the Sunday Observer’s George Melly — the audience and enthusiasm for the film steadily grew.

THTC’s next engagement was in November 1972 at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in L.A., where it screened as part of Filmex, the Los Angeles International Film Exposition. While the film was well-received by the packed house that attended, it initially failed to attract a distributor; however, Henzell’s dogged persistence paid off yet again, and it was finally picked up by Roger Corman’s distribution company New World Pictures. Film critics A.H. Weiler (in The New York Times) and Tom Shales (in The Washington Post) both praised the film ahead of its US release in early 1973, while Time Magazine’s Jay Cocks wrote that “The Harder They Come is always exuberant, and sometimes strong, as casually surprising and effortlessly sinister as the blade sliding out of a gravity knife.” Nevertheless, the release ran into problems due to New World’s promotional campaign, which had targeted the film at the blaxploitation market. Henzell proceeded to cancel the distribution deal and take charge of the marketing and publicity of the film himself.

A friend of a friend connected Henzell with Larry Jackson, the programmer for the Orson Welles Theatre just outside Boston, who was seeking “rebel films” for his midnight screening slots. Jackson watched the film and loved it, and agreed with Henzell that it should not be promoted as “Super Fly Goes to Jamaica.” The Harder They Come opened in prime time in the 400-seat theatre of the Welles triplex in April 1973, and, as Jackson recounts, “In the first few months 75, 000 people had gone to see the film. After six months we took it off the regular screening schedule and showed it at midnight,” where it continued to play to a full house for the next six years. This is but one example of the spectacular success that the film enjoyed on college and repertory screens across the US, from Boston to New York City, Washington D.C. to San Francisco.

In Toronto, the film’s host was the now-defunct Cinema Lumiere on College Street near Spadina, where THTC began screening in the summer of 1973 to enthusiastic audiences that included many Caribbean-Canadians. “The Harder They Come surges with exotic life and an exhilarating sense of continuous movement,” The Toronto Star’s Clyde Gilmour wrote at the time, and the city’s Black community press was just as effusive in its praise: in the pages of the monthly Spear magazine, film critic J. Ashton Braithwaite flatly declared “The Harder They Come… is a good movie, period.”

Perry Henzell’s No Place Like Home

At 11:00pm on September 13, 2006, Perry Henzell — now 70 years old and battling cancer — stood in front of the screen at the Cumberland 3 in Yorkville, looking out on a capacity crowd that had just finished watching TIFF’s world premiere of his new work No Place Like Home. Henzell’s long, grey, bushy beard, erudite voice and insightful comments give him the presence of a hippie intellectual rather than an elder statesman of Caribbean cinema. The Festival showed The Harder They Come in its “Dialogues: Talking with Pictures” programme a few days later. Just two months after his visit to Toronto, Henzell died back home in Jamaica. But his spirit still thrives in his art, most powerfully in his first and greatest film, which put Jamaica on the world cinema map for the very first time.

The Harder They Come screened on Sunday, December 10 as part of the TIFF Cinematheque retrospective Black Star.

By: Klive Walker

Original Article Found Here

#Jamaican Film #Jimmy Cliff #Perry Henzell