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[Misc] Care package thank you megathread!!

Removed the intro because I hit the character limit :')
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submitted by scumteam14 to SkincareAddiction [link] [comments]

[Sweet Nola] - Chapter 4

Chapter 1
Nola had sent the form four months ago and it was accepted for better or worse. She had spent months finding and waiting for the perfect accommodation to show up. She had found a new school that had a bus service for Allie. In a couple of days, they will be moving to a new city.
Nola had asked Allie and he had said what she expected. "If that's what you want, do it."
One of the work colleagues suggested a going away party for Nola which she was elated for before Dave interjected and said she's still working here. It was true. From time to time she would have to drop back to the main branch to sort her project out. She shot a disappointed look to the ceiling, to the heavens. Damn Dave! How dare he thwart my going away party! They ended up deciding to have a small party instead of a company wide, full blown one where everybody was invited like those old primary school birthday parties from rich kids.
For lunch, Vasco went around poking people working at their desk to see if they wanted to join them for her last lunch. One elderly gentlemen refused. Every day, this old skeletal man would eat lunch at his desk so it wasn't unnatural for him to turn down the offer. Nola with quiet pity, urged him amicably. It bored the hell out of her seeing these goddamn office drones so obsessed with their menial paperwork.
"Where's Dave gone?"
"Dave's meeting with his wife."
"That Dave! He's always there for everything. His wife's the only thing stopping him," said office mook number one, whose name was Marcus.
They collected three other workmates in the end: Jack, Marcus and Jane. They went down to a local gourmet style burger joint three blocks from the office. Burgers again, she thought.
They grabbed a seat beside the cashier. Marcus let out a good hearty laugh at Vasco eating his vegetarian Caesar salad.
"Didn't know you became a vegetarian Vasco, eh?"
"I've been trying to lose weight recently to make my wife happy.”
"Yeah right. I bet she complained about your beer belly."
Vasco ignored the office mook and turned his attention to Nola, "Have you found decent accommodation yet?" Vasco forked a lettuce leaf begrudgingly and put it into his mouth slowly.
"Yeah I did," she said enthusiastically, "I found a really large bungalow if the description and the pictures can be trusted. It has a large supermarket right beside it and it's not too far from the city centre or the university."
Jack and Marcus nodded in unison.
They chatted about old times, plans for the future and blah blah blah. The talk bored the hell out of Nola and she was glad when they left. Vasco paid for Nola's meal which made it sort of worth it for Nola.
Nola was having a real party with her friends tonight. Nola's friends have organised a going away party at a high end bar called Tribal. She was planning to drink away all her worries of her uncertain future. She made some small talk with Jane as they walked back. She was so quiet that she almost forgot she was part of the party and not a random stranger sitting in their table. She invited Jane to it but she turned down the offer.
She messaged if Eleanor wanted to come over and even urged her to come to the bar to meet and mingle with her friends. She staunchly rejected her proposal as always and wanted to babysit Allie instead.
The next day, she woke up on the couch in the large living room. Allie sat in front of the upright piano by the wall. His hand was gliding over the keys effortlessly, hovering like a ghost that haunted the piano. Back and forth it went. Nola saw what he was doing. He was ghost playing and sight-reading. The music sheet in front of him was Liszt's Liebesträume No.3, Love's Dream. Nola read a bit about music so she could share some trivia with Allie. She had learnt that Fran Liszt was a virtuoso in piano who kept a single hairstyle all his life. Allie's hand stopped and his fingers fell gently on the keys to sound the dream. Allie played a simplified version of his piece, not because he lacked the skill to play the original, but because his hands were too small.
Fragments of the dream that Nola woke up from were still in her memory. In her childhood there was a neighbour she visited often when her older sisters refused to include her in their games. The neighbour was a boy who was a year older than her. She always treated him like how her own older sisters treated her which was to say, not equal in any way.
He was a small ginger boy whose mother was devoutly religious. She remembered they went to mass every Sunday. How he dressed in a little kid suit and she always waited dearly for him to come back and play. She didn't know what they did in mass but she wished she got to dress like the other girls going to church.
Thinking back, the ginger boy was her most intimate friend. She never thought of him as her best friend but he was. She never put much thought in their relationship and one day she moved away. She had even forgotten about his very existence until she had this dream.
She felt ashamed. Feeling groggy from the alcohol didn't help either.
Allie continued playing in a gentle pianissimo. The piece became a soft lullaby as it reached the final third which he repeated again in his own intricate variation.
"Morning," Nola's voice was rasp from all the alcohol she downed last night.
"Morning." Allie repeated without missing a single beat.
"Did Eleanor leave?"
"She said she had to go the music wooniversity."
"University." Nola corrected Allie who would stumble on long words occasionally.
"Yeah, university. She said she'd be back later. I wanted to finish this song with her." He stopped playing and looked at Nola with a wide smile. "We're adding our own parts to it to make it better."
Nola laughed at him saying song. She saw how Eleanor's eyebrows twitched whenever Allie referred a music piece as a song.
Nola thought that they should have their own private party.
"Let's have our own party tomorrow and invite Eleanor. What kind of food does Eleanor like?" She asked about Eleanor because she had the tastes and pickiness of a queen. At the buffet in Paris, she refused to eat many of the dishes that were top of the line. She was a very fastidious lady. Probably a trait of an artist is to be picky, she thought.
"Ham and pineapple pizza!"
"Okie dokie." She observed his little beautiful face, so radiant with joy that it blinded her hung-over eyes. "We're moving tomorrow. Do you still miss here?"
"No, no," he shook his head cutely, "as long as we're still together."
They decided they were going to have a pineapple pizza party at the new home. She invited Eleanor who was sure to come. Her friend Matt was going to drive them there. He told her he owned a big jeep.
Nola started packing the essentials for the road trip tomorrow. Two large luggage bags were on the floor. She looked thoughtfully. Thoughtfully lost.
"Clothes, yes. The essentials." She stuffed her own and Allie's favourite clothes together into the luggage.
She then took out her list that she composed during work. Toiletries, make-up case, medikit, towels, electronics...
She went over to the bookshelf in the sitting room to pick out a photo album. Maybe I'll bring one album to look back on. It could curb homesickness. She flicked open a random page.
She saw a nine year old of herself sitting with her two older sisters at a restaurant. Her eldest sister Anna was ten years older than her and had raven black hair which nobody in the family had. Another photo with herself and her parents. She remembered Silvie taking this photo. It reminded her that she needed to get their signatures for Allie's new school.
She flicked through the pages looking for someone. She grabbed another one and leafed through it. The albums piled up until she finally found one with her neighbour, the little ginger boy. She told herself she wouldn't forget him again.
...
Matt was a friend of Nola who incidentally had a jeep for the journey. Eleanor wheeled Allie out. Eleanor wore an elegant sundress with knee high socks and long silk gloves. All clothed in complete white with a large sunhat to top it. Allie wore a cheap t-shirt and shorts that Nola bought from Pennys, her favourite store, in the discount aisle so it was extremely cheap. Three euro for the whole outfit.
Matt opened the boot and helped Nola throw in the luggage. Nola collapsed Allie's wheelchair and placed it flat on top. Matt had to be on his toes to reach the top of the boot to close it. Matt was short, a good head lower than Nola who was a bit above average in height. He had long wavy black hair that was really greasy. He wore a tight fitting dark blue t-shirt that might as well have been black because it was so dark. His jeans were the typical light blue and he wore black shoes that matched with the colour scheme of his t-shirt and his greasy black hair.
Short men can be generalised into two groups from Nola's experience. The potbellied jolly type and the easily angered type. Nola had noticed in her social circles that a lot of short men seem to have short tempers. It must have had something to do with always being at the short end of things or recompensating for being small, she theorised. Matt was the latter who always gave a good laugh and fitted into any group regardless of his stature. The type of person that you would feel comfortable confiding with. He reminded Nola of Dave but in a good way.
Nola took the front passenger seat while Allie and Eleanor sat at the back. Eleanor looked at Matt and saw some sort of pig-like abomination and tried to ignore him as best as she could. It was going to be a three hour journey. She tipped her sunhat down to doze off and to prevent Matt from seeing her face. He had a lecherous look to him, like somebody who hits on women above their weight and height so to speak.
The jeep Matt was driving was actually his father's. His father was a doctor and so Matt has never needed to work a single job in his entire life. He couldn't keep one even if he tried. His father told him to get a job once. He got a job as a barista. He spilled a cup of scalding hot coffee on his own hand and that was that. Such was the curse of being affluent, he thought. It's not my fault that I can't work jobs below my status.
"I bought a new phone yesterday. Latest model. It has the latest camera A.I. Technology. And it-"
Matt listed out the specs of his new phone that threw Nola into instant slumber. Matt looked across, hoping to see Nola's reaction when she didn't react. Her mouth was agape and she was drooling. Matt looked ahead into the distance of the endless motorway. This was going to be a long drive.
"Alex", he called out. "Yo, Alex."
"Hmm?"
"Alright Alex... What do you think of Nola?" Matt was interested in Nola. He knew there was no such things as male and female friends. It was a global truth that only woman were oblivious to this fact. Either they're pretending when they have an unattractive male friend or they were truly oblivious in their flaunting of sexuality. Matt will never know since he had never dated anybody.
"Nola? She's the most beautiful and kindest person in the whole wide world. She lets me have ice-cream on weekdays but not on weekends though."
True, true, Matt nodded on the nicest person part and beautiful part.
"What's she like at home? Like what do you for fun together?"
Matt glanced at the rear-view mirror and saw the child's eyes lost in wonder looking at the fields of sheep and cows. This stupid kid, he thought. A lot of the times Nola had turned down nights out to take care of this crippled child. "Here's a fun fact: Did you know that if a rabbit doesn't find a partner for themselves, it dies of loneliness."
"That's such a sad fact!" Dear Eleanor now awoke and looking quite scrumptious in her gothic black dress. She was an artist all right. Off the hinge, Matt suspected. "Why would you tell him that?"
"You missed the point. I’m trying to say that people aren't meant to be alone. Humans are far more intelligent that can carry more emotional burden and we use our intelligence to convince ourselves that we can live alone." Matt explained his hypothesis. He was just improvising his thoughts on the spot but had started to believe his own hypothesis the more he spoke of it.
"I was perfectly fine alone. It's one of the reason I'm a successful pianist, a world renowned pianist," Eleanor placed extra emphasis on the word renowned, "I could practice by myself without speaking to anybody for month's end." Eleanor was visibly agitated and her voice shook. She didn't like queer strangers like Matt. Matt knew he struck a chord with her and continued wanting to prove his newly formed hypothesis.
"You had a good long run until you met Nola."
"It wasn't Nola I met, please. It was my sweet Allie."
"I remember", Allie interjected, "I asked Nola I wanted to see the performance live."
"Yes, it was fated! Allie and Ellie. Fated!" Her voice was starting to rise to soprano levels. The conversation from both sides was getting hysterical by the second. Matt began to get defensive about his well thought out theory that Eleanor attacked with nonsensical statements. She forgot want she was arguing and she just wanted to viciously humiliate him.
At that point, Nola awoke to the rapid fire crisscrossing of passive aggressive remarks.
"What are you guys talking about?"
"Nothing." said Eleanor.
"What did I miss?" Nola looked at Matt.
Matt t-shirt was drenched in sweat and his hair looked greasier than normal.
"Ha-ha. You look like you're being cooked. Matt, why don't you open the window a bit?"
Matt obliged. Crazy woman are scary, he thought.
They arrived at the new city and got stuck in traffic. When they drove into the estate, Nola spotted a middle aged lady waving at them. It was the landlady for their new home.
They got out of the jeep and the party greeted the landlord. She was a black haired, stout lady wearing an oversized purple sweater. She had a big smile on her face and shook hands with all of them.
"Wow, I didn't know I was renting to four people!” the landlady was clearly joking. "I'm Joan, nice to meet you all! You must be Alex. I think you will find it very pleasant here. It’s a bungalow and we don't have a basement so no stairs at all. I think you'll find it perfectly suited for you."
Nola examined the house. By the look of it, it was refurbished due to how modern it looked compared to the neighbours' houses which were all in a different style.
They exchanged the usual pleasantries, talking about the weather, the ride and life in the capital city.
"You'll like it here I think. They call it a city but it's nothing more than a big town. The university's just down the road, there's a supermarket, a library, a boxing gym down the other direction-" Nola's eyes lit up, "-and there's a large running track but that's about a fifteen minute walk from here."
They followed her in the house. Eleanor slunk to the back, pushing Allie who was intrigued at the sight of his new home.
It all felt too perfect. The cost was on the higher end of the spectrum. More often than not, they looked more spacious in photos but it wasn't the case here. Nola had expected some catch.
"I used to rent to students. Oh, it was such a mess. especially since I just got the renovations done and I couldn't stand the thought of students here ever again. That was the last time I rented to students." So it was renovated Nola thought. "Oh, but you're mature and working while you're studying," Joan the landlady corrected herself.
A door opened as they were walking through the corridor. A large shadow loomed over the guests. Nola's eyes widened. What looked like a huge lard of lubber came out.
"Oh, let me introduce you to Lauren. You will be sharing the house together."
Nola heard nothing of this when she spoke to Joan on the phone and email. The price was a bit too good from what it was. The landlady saw Nola relaxing and knew she had her. Nola planned to have a good long talk to her later and composed herself.
"This is Nola, Matt, Alex and Eleanor." Nola shook her large tubby hands. She had the physique of the puffer fish from Spongebob Squarepants.
"Nice to meet you." Nola examined her like a specimen. Lauren was ninety percent blubber and she guessed she ate a minimal of ten deep fat fried meals a day. Nola didn't mind fat people, she was worried that she could get diabetes since her own grandmother probably weighed the same as her and she got diabetes from being obese. Once she visited a nursing home and saw a young man in his mid-thirties. She found it strange that he was missing both of his legs. He must be a Soviet soldier who lost both of his legs in the war, she thought. Nola asked the nurse about him. The nurse told her his diabetes got to the point where they had to saw off his legs.
Eleanor just looked on ahead, unfazed at the colossal sight blocking the corridor. What an elephant, she thought, an elephant in the room.
"She fa-". Eleanor covered Allie's mouth.
"Wow what a f-" Eleanor swung her leg to land a striking blow into Matt's leg that sent him spluttering a compliment to the house. Eleanor didn't expect an ounce of decency out of Matt's mutt.
"I'm gonna take a walk outside to take a breather." Matt said as he wiped the tears streaming down his face.
Allie was remarkable open even in children. He was not afraid of sprouting whatever truth that currently occupied his mind. Eleanor liked his honesty but even she knew there were some things better left unsaid. Especially if this land lubber was going to live with them and they would need to get along.
Lauren as if sensing she was being eyed like an animal, broke the silence of the observation. "I'm just here for the time being. I'm engaged and I'll be moving out next year. My fiancé and I had saved enough and we're looking to buy a new house soon."
Joan was thankful she explained it instead of her. That way it didn't feel like she had to apologise for deceiving a tenant.
"Congratulations!" Nola said. "You have to tell me about that later." Nola looked forward to hearing about the romantic escapades from her new roommate. Nola had stayed at home for her bachelor's degree and so she secretly felt excited that she has a roommate for the very first time.
Nola smiled widely at the really fat lady. She guessed that her profession was probably a programmer or some other engineering type job. The type of discipline that was filled completely with men and so a woman who studied in those courses meant she was going to be strange.
They went together to the kitchen for some tea and biscuits. Eleanor looked disgusted at the sight of multiple layers of fat folding onto itself when Lauren sat down, the fat from her ass spilling off the chair. She was mesmerised at the five layers of fat rolls that was able to sprout from the human body. She looked at Nola chatting away like the social bird she was. She learnt that Lauren was a software engineer and worked from home now. Nola was prying through the awkward social barrier that all engineers have and befriending her quite easily.
"-Allie loved that movie as well."
Lauren talked about her boyfriend and how they were big fans of the newest Marvel movie coming out. Nola said she wanted to see it as well and invited them. Joan was lost amidst the geek talk and chatted enthusiastically with Allie. Eleanor just sat still like a statue. Lauren gave a quick glance at Allie and didn't feel like lugging around a cripple boy to the cinema. Nola already knew of the prejudice that people had when they saw Allie and reassured her that it was just herself. She wanted to make the movie was good and appropriate for Allie and she didn't mind two viewings.
"My boyfriend and I are the biggest sci-fi and fantasy nerds," Lauren was spluttering having finally found a female friend that shared her interest.
Eleanor made a face of disgust at their nerd talk.
Nola asked if they wanted to all get pizza together. Then Eleanor and Lauren argued on what toppings they liked on their pizza that went on for a while until Matt came back and acted as a mediator to settle the food war.
They ordered pizza from Supermacs on Deliveriloo with Nola paying and tipping a tenner to the delivery boy as customary. The delivery man thought she made a mistake and told her the order has already been paid. Nola let out a laugh and told him she knew.
It was important that every food courier earned extra since they were important workers in society, especially when they had to cycle through the heavy rain and wind. These people deserve more than the office workers like myself who sat on their fat asses all day long. This was Nola's thought.
Matt and Eleanor left at night. Eleanor, normally cool and collected, looked teary-eyed. She stuck herself out the back window and waved goodbye with her handkerchief and reassured Nola and Allie that she'll visit. Nola and Allie waved back and went back inside what was now their new home.
submitted by Readerstein to redditserials [link] [comments]

EM tries to change my sexuality for her daughter (part 5-7)(finale)

(Disclaimer, LONGGGG STORY GUYS)
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE GOLD! AND THE PLATINUM YOU LEGEND.
Part 1 is here: https://www.reddit.com/entitledparents/comments/aqxytz/em_tries_to_change_my_sexuality_for_her_daughte?ref=share&ref_source=link
Jesus you guys blew me up in a day. I started less than 48 hours ago, and in that time I have 5k Karma, 1600 followers, a Discord with hundreds of members, and I've been on the front page of entitledparents twice. We broke Reddit guys. We can take over the entire world!...wait, my managed says that's not allowed. Well, for now, let's finish this story and save the world and appease the hundreds asking for the rest.
Part 5: The Parent Trap (stolen)
This story features a new character we haven't seen yet. My dad. And I don't want to talk about him but it's necessary to finish the story. We'll call him DD (Drunk Dad). So F was coming to my house, and we were gonna go out bowling after. Now her mom may have been a total psychopath, but she was protective, so she checked in a lot. So F got to my house, and we had two hours before we had to meet up with our friends to leave. In that time, we decided to watch a movie "Sky High" and just chill in my room. Well being in my room was ok, since my dad knew we weren't dating (Disclaimer, my dad was a heavy drinker, so he tended to snap at the smallest thing). This started with a call from EM, a call that would change the game entirely. We were in my room with the door locked (I enjoy my privacy) when DD slammed it open, into the wall. A small hole was left where the doorknob crashed.
DD: WHY THE FUCK IS YOUR DOOR LOCKED?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
Me: Watching a movie...?
DD: YOU'VE BEEN LYING TO ME THIS ENTIRE TIME HUH? YOU TWO ARE DATING!
Nononono I knew where this was going. Em that bastard!
Me: Let me guess, F's mom told you that?
DD: SHE ASKED IF YOU'D LEFT FOR YOUR DATE! FUCKING DATE OP!
Me: I don't understand. One, she's lying. Two, why would it matter?
DD: YOU ARE NOT GETTING A GIRL PREGNANT IN MY HOUSE! THAT IS NOT HAPPENING!
Me: What? We're watching a movie!
DD: YEAH OK. THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE GONNA GO WITH?! GET OUT! BOTH OF YOU RIGHT NOW! GET TF OUT OF MY HOUSE IF YOU'RE GOING TO DISRESPECT ME LIKE THAT!
I had no idea what to say. So I did what any normal person would do, and got up. I walked up to him, and started yelling back. I'm not proud of the shit I said. I'm really not. There was lot. To be honest, he'd been doing this whole "get drunk yell at son" thing for years, and this was the end of it. I called him a terrible father, snapped on him for yelling at my friend, and then told him that even if I did get a girl pregnant, I'd be a better dad at 16 than he would ever be in his life. Like I said, I'm not proud of it guys, but he got the message. There was such a shocked look in his eyes, and he didn't say a word before he walked out. I turned to F and told her that we'd take her home, and that I didn't feel like bowling anymore. She understood thankfully, I never did end up getting her pregnant.
Hey guys just a quick end of story notes type thing. You guys ask why we didn't hang out at my house, and it's because I knew this kind of thing would happen. The next story will tell about the last time I went to her house while this whole fiasco occurred, and how it ended terribly.
Part 6: Dad's finished
So this story includes everyone except EG and DD. It takes place on a Friday, right after school ended. It also depicts EM showing some common sense, before throwing it out the window. So I decide to walk F home after school, since she doesn't live far from the school. The whole time she's acting kind of awkward (all will be explained). We get to her house, and she invited me in. I know it's a mistake on my part but I accept because I'm thirsty as actual hell (drink, not her). So I get a cup of water, before EM walks into the kitchen with me. F is in her room waiting, and EM asks me to sit down. So I sit at their kitchen table,
EM: So how are you and F doing? I know things are tough right now because of your dad, but I hope it's not hurting your relationship.
Me: I don't think it could hurt a non-existing relationship.
EM: That's a little rude isn't it?
Me: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.
EM: sighs It's fine, I understand how you feel.
Me: Really?
EM: Yeah, when I was young I was stubborn about dating too. It always made ED uncomfortable to some extent.
Well I misunderstood that. I thought she realized she was crazy for a minute.
Me: So why are you so invested in me and F dating?
Well that was open. Wtf was I thinking tbh?
EM: I love my daughter, and I don't want her to get hurt! She deserves better than she's gotten, which is why I'm glad you're around!
Come on. You couldn't not feel bad! I didn't wanna be rude but I didn't wanna put the wrong ideas into her head. We all know how that would turn out!
Me: Well yeah, I love your daughter, but not like that. We're not dating anytime soon.
That was the trigger. The "anytime soon". Gone was that nice mother who I'd been talking to thirty seconds ago, and so returned the abysmal EM you all know and (unfortunately) love.
EM: Yet?! Is that a joke?! You either date my daughter now or you never do! Who do you think you are? Making her wait for a relationship you know is going to happen? This is bullshit!
Well I was screwed. Where was F when I needed her? The door opened, and I sighed with relief. My savio...ED. It was ED. I mentally started placing bets on how long I would have to live. I settled with thirty seconds if I was fast.
ED: Why is he here?! I made it clear he was not allowed in my house ever again!
EM: Why not? F is allowed to have a boyfriend! She's old enough and you know it!
ED: Not a fu--ing pervert! I want him out!
EM: How can he be a pervert if he's gay? Explain that to me please!
What. How. English. Please. "My daughter's boyfriend is gay so no sex here". What. EM had lost it. ED looked shocked. He had enough sense left to realize what she had just said made zero sense. He turned to me. So it began.
ED: You're gay?
Me: Kind of.
ED: Yes or no? You're a f--.
WHHOAAAAAA STOP RIGHT THERE BUDDY!
Me: I'm not a fa--ot. I'm your daughter's best friend and this is actually the dumbest conversation I've ever had with any group of people ever.
I was gonna lose it, just like with my dad before. There was so much pent up rage and aggression between me and this father that it was about to burst all at once.
But then.
EM: How dare you talk to my husband that way? I don't care if you're dating my daughter at all! That is completely inappropriate and honestly I think you should leave.
I was shocked. What do you mean I should leave? I just...what?!
Me: Okay, if that's what you want.
And then walks in F, like ten minutes too late (I cut out some parts of this argument because I was not happy).
F: Hey, what are you doing OP? Let's go. She grabs my hand and starts walking towards the door
ED: He was just leaving. Alone.
F looks confused. But I knew she heard the entire conversation. So I just got up and left. The literal only thing I did anymore when we hung out. That was it for me. I was done with this. Goodbye F, and goodbye crazy family...or so I thought guys...or so I thought.
Part 7: This isn't happening anymore
You guys always ask why F never stood up for me, and I answer not yet. Well here it is.
It was a few days after the incident. I hand't really talked to F after that, and it sucked. I was stuck at home in a crappy situation with no one to talk to. On this particular day, I was watching Netflix while listening to Hollywood Undead (my favorite band) when my phone went off.
Message from F: Hey, come over. I'm bored.
Message from me: No.
Message from F: Please, I need to talk to you.
Message from me: Fine, but I'm leaving if they say a word to me.
Message from F: Fine, but hurry.
I get up and walk to her house (after some prep cause I gotta look good to feel good ;)). I get there after like 20 minutes and knock. Surprisingly, she answers instead of a parent.
F: Hey.
Me: Hi. Can I come in?
F: That's why I invited you here, isn't it?
Smug much damn? Kidding guys I love her! I walk in behind her and we go straight to her room (weird, we usually stop for drinks or snacks but she seemed like she was in a rush). We get to her room and she sits down on her bed. I sit on the beanbag chair next to her but she looks up.
F: Sit with me.
Uhhh. Ok. I get up and join her on the bed. She starts talking about a movie she watched recently then looks up and just looks at me and stops.
F: I'm sorry, about everything recently. My parents, us not talking, everything.
Me: Hey, it's not your fault. Your parents just need to learn boundaries a little.
F: Yeah I guess.
We sit in silence for a minute then she sighs. She turns on the TV and clicks a random movie. To be honest, I wish I could say I don't remember what it was because of what happens next, but I'd be lying. I love Nemo and I will never claim to have forgotten him. F seems fidgety the whole time, and when I realized why it was too late.
So guys I'm gonna give you a quick reminder from earlier. Me and F did date, for less than a week. Because we realized it wasn't going to work out with us as more than friends. And this is where it all began. My biggest mistake and hers. Oops I guess.
As I'm watching the movie and we get to the part where Marlin and Dory are in the minefield, I feel the bed move a little bit. I figure she's just stretching or something, since we've been sitting for a while. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder. Then lips...on my lips?! NONONONONO! I pull away the literal second it happens and F looks up, seemingly embarrassed (wonder why Op?!)
F: What's wrong?
Me: Look, I know what's going on. And I don't want you to push a relationship because it's what your mom wants.
She looks shocked. Then hurt. Then the rage of a thousand suns fills her eyes. I assume it's aimed at me and prepare for backlash. She gets up and walks out the door, slamming it behind her. What? Then it begins. The screaming. Two women fighting behind a veil of pure unadulterated fury.
F: WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING YOU BI---?
EM: WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO YOUNG LADY!? I AM YOUR MOTHER AND I WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED IN MY OWN HOUSE! YOU CAN LEAVE IF YOU'RE GOING TO TALK LIKE THAT!
So much anger, glass shattering (not an exaggeration either, F threw a porcelain mug and it shattered against the door I was in). Fear struck my heart as I realized, I was going to die (that is an exaggeration). They were at it for a good thirty minutes. I've never heard so many bad words or insults or abortion threats. What was happening? Even ED didn't dare step in the way of this massacre of men.
F: I'm done with you. I'm done. You ruined the one chance I had of actually getting with someone I cared about because you couldn't get it out of your stupid god damn brain that we HAD to be together. You ruined it. Not me, not him. You ruined everything!
With that she ran into her room and locked the door. She was crying, and I think she forgot I was in there for a good 10 seconds. She was lying on her bed in a ball when I walked up and put my hand on her back. She looked up, ready to argue, then realized it was me. She just started crying louder and looked down. I don't want to get into too much detail on what was said, because it was really personal. But we talked for hours upon hours upon hours. By the time we stopped, it was around 11pm. She offered to let me sleep over, to which I responded she was a psychopath (jokingly. She wasn't her mom after all). Then I got my stuff together and walked out the door. As I was leaving she stopped me.
F: So...I'll see you tomorrow right?
Me: Of course you will.
We both stood there for a few seconds before I sighed. I leaned in and kissed her. Yup, on the lips. She looked absolutely confused out of her mind before I turned and walked off. This time I walked home, because I didn't care about the cold. A lot had happened and I was just tired. I got home to a lot of yelling from my dad, who demanded to know why I was so late and if F was "as done with my bullshit as he was". I smiled and flipped him off. I suck at being a son. Later that night I was laying in bed wondering what the hell had just happened. The next day we decided it would be official, we were a couple. Happy ending, right? Wrong. ED decided it was his turn to step in, and took her phone. Then he called the school to make sure we never saw each other (because of previous allegations, they happily agreed to keep us separated). After that I never saw F for a full three days, before we finally ran into each other in the hallway. It had been hell. ED had even tried homeschooling her before he realized he had to register and fill out a bunch of paperwork to do that. We mutually agreed with this much toxicity in her family, there was absolutely no way we were going to make it as a couple. We decided to remain friends, but weren't as close until a few months after, when my dad ended up hospitalized. After that we started talking all the time again, and became the best friends we are now. And that everyone, is the story of how my best friend's mom tried to use every single trick she knew to get me and her daughter to start dating, only to have it ripped from her hands behind her back by her own husband. I hope you all enjoyed!
Authors Note: Guys you've made Reddit history. Look at my account after 2 days. There's been so much support, and so many people have have taken the side of a stranger because he brought a few minutes of joy to them with something he wrote. This should be the end...but it's only the beginning my friends. I have more stories about me and F, more about her parents that don't belong on entitledparents , and more stories to just share in general. I love the community you guys have helped me accidentally build in just a few days, and let's keep it growing. Be ready to spread some positivity, and get ready for more great stories involving me, F, and so many more. I'll even try to get her to open an account for you guys, so you can hear some more stories from her point of view. Expect more stories daily, and let's keep this alive! I love you all, and I'll see you tomorrow morning when I post my first CB story! Happy Late Valentine's Day my friends!
submitted by PlannedBaronhood to entitledparents [link] [comments]

EM tries to change my sexuality for her daughter (part 4-7) (finale)

(Disclaimer, LONGGGG STORY GUYS)
Part 1 is here: https://www.reddit.com/entitledparents/comments/aqxytz/em_tries_to_change_my_sexuality_for_her_daughte?ref=share&ref_source=link
Jesus you guys blew me up in a day. I started less than 48 hours ago, and in that time I have 5k Karma, 1600 followers, a Discord with hundreds of members, and I've been on the front page of entitledparents twice. We broke Reddit guys. We can take over the entire world!...wait, my managed says that's not allowed. Well, for now, let's finish this story and save the world and appease the hundreds asking for the rest.
Part 5: The Parent Trap (stolen)
This story features a new character we haven't seen yet. My dad. And I don't want to talk about him but it's necessary to finish the story. We'll call him DD (Drunk Dad). So F was coming to my house, and we were gonna go out bowling after. Now her mom may have been a total psychopath, but she was protective, so she checked in a lot. So F got to my house, and we had two hours before we had to meet up with our friends to leave. In that time, we decided to watch a movie "Sky High" and just chill in my room. Well being in my room was ok, since my dad knew we weren't dating (Disclaimer, my dad was a heavy drinker, so he tended to snap at the smallest thing). This started with a call from EM, a call that would change the game entirely. We were in my room with the door locked (I enjoy my privacy) when DD slammed it open, into the wall. A small hole was left where the doorknob crashed.
DD: WHY THE FUCK IS YOUR DOOR LOCKED?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
Me: Watching a movie...?
DD: YOU'VE BEEN LYING TO ME THIS ENTIRE TIME HUH? YOU TWO ARE DATING!
Nononono I knew where this was going. Em that bastard!
Me: Let me guess, F's mom told you that?
DD: SHE ASKED IF YOU'D LEFT FOR YOUR DATE! FUCKING DATE OP!
Me: I don't understand. One, she's lying. Two, why would it matter?
DD: YOU ARE NOT GETTING A GIRL PREGNANT IN MY HOUSE! THAT IS NOT HAPPENING!
Me: What? We're watching a movie!
DD: YEAH OK. THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE GONNA GO WITH?! GET OUT! BOTH OF YOU RIGHT NOW! GET TF OUT OF MY HOUSE IF YOU'RE GOING TO DISRESPECT ME LIKE THAT!
I had no idea what to say. So I did what any normal person would do, and got up. I walked up to him, and started yelling back. I'm not proud of the shit I said. I'm really not. There was lot. To be honest, he'd been doing this whole "get drunk yell at son" thing for years, and this was the end of it. I called him a terrible father, snapped on him for yelling at my friend, and then told him that even if I did get a girl pregnant, I'd be a better dad at 16 than he would ever be in his life. Like I said, I'm not proud of it guys, but he got the message. There was such a shocked look in his eyes, and he didn't say a word before he walked out. I turned to F and told her that we'd take her home, and that I didn't feel like bowling anymore. She understood thankfully, I never did end up getting her pregnant.
Hey guys just a quick end of story notes type thing. You guys ask why we didn't hang out at my house, and it's because I knew this kind of thing would happen. The next story will tell about the last time I went to her house while this whole fiasco occurred, and how it ended terribly.
Part 6: Dad's finished
So this story includes everyone except EG and DD. It takes place on a Friday, right after school ended. It also depicts EM showing some common sense, before throwing it out the window. So I decide to walk F home after school, since she doesn't live far from the school. The whole time she's acting kind of awkward (all will be explained). We get to her house, and she invited me in. I know it's a mistake on my part but I accept because I'm thirsty as actual hell (drink, not her). So I get a cup of water, before EM walks into the kitchen with me. F is in her room waiting, and EM asks me to sit down. So I sit at their kitchen table,
EM: So how are you and F doing? I know things are tough right now because of your dad, but I hope it's not hurting your relationship.
Me: I don't think it could hurt a non-existing relationship.
EM: That's a little rude isn't it?
Me: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.
EM: sighs It's fine, I understand how you feel.
Me: Really?
EM: Yeah, when I was young I was stubborn about dating too. It always made ED uncomfortable to some extent.
Well I misunderstood that. I thought she realized she was crazy for a minute.
Me: So why are you so invested in me and F dating?
Well that was open. Wtf was I thinking tbh?
EM: I love my daughter, and I don't want her to get hurt! She deserves better than she's gotten, which is why I'm glad you're around!
Come on. You couldn't not feel bad! I didn't wanna be rude but I didn't wanna put the wrong ideas into her head. We all know how that would turn out!
Me: Well yeah, I love your daughter, but not like that. We're not dating anytime soon.
That was the trigger. The "anytime soon". Gone was that nice mother who I'd been talking to thirty seconds ago, and so returned the abysmal EM you all know and (unfortunately) love.
EM: Yet?! Is that a joke?! You either date my daughter now or you never do! Who do you think you are? Making her wait for a relationship you know is going to happen? This is bullshit!
Well I was screwed. Where was F when I needed her? The door opened, and I sighed with relief. My savio...ED. It was ED. I mentally started placing bets on how long I would have to live. I settled with thirty seconds if I was fast.
ED: Why is he here?! I made it clear he was not allowed in my house ever again!
EM: Why not? F is allowed to have a boyfriend! She's old enough and you know it!
ED: Not a fu--ing pervert! I want him out!
EM: How can he be a pervert if he's gay? Explain that to me please!
What. How. English. Please. "My daughter's boyfriend is gay so no sex here". What. EM had lost it. ED looked shocked. He had enough sense left to realize what she had just said made zero sense. He turned to me. So it began.
ED: You're gay?
Me: Kind of.
ED: Yes or no? You're a f--.
WHHOAAAAAA STOP RIGHT THERE BUDDY!
Me: I'm not a fa--ot. I'm your daughter's best friend and this is actually the dumbest conversation I've ever had with any group of people ever.
I was gonna lose it, just like with my dad before. There was so much pent up rage and aggression between me and this father that it was about to burst all at once.
But then.
EM: How dare you talk to my husband that way? I don't care if you're dating my daughter at all! That is completely inappropriate and honestly I think you should leave.
I was shocked. What do you mean I should leave? I just...what?!
Me: Okay, if that's what you want.
And then walks in F, like ten minutes too late (I cut out some parts of this argument because I was not happy).
F: Hey, what are you doing OP? Let's go. She grabs my hand and starts walking towards the door
ED: He was just leaving. Alone.
F looks confused. But I knew she heard the entire conversation. So I just got up and left. The literal only thing I did anymore when we hung out. That was it for me. I was done with this. Goodbye F, and goodbye crazy family...or so I thought guys...or so I thought.
Part 7: This isn't happening anymore
You guys always ask why F never stood up for me, and I answer not yet. Well here it is.
It was a few days after the incident. I hand't really talked to F after that, and it sucked. I was stuck at home in a crappy situation with no one to talk to. On this particular day, I was watching Netflix while listening to Hollywood Undead (my favorite band) when my phone went off.
Message from F: Hey, come over. I'm bored.
Message from me: No.
Message from F: Please, I need to talk to you.
Message from me: Fine, but I'm leaving if they say a word to me.
Message from F: Fine, but hurry.
I get up and walk to her house (after some prep cause I gotta look good to feel good ;)). I get there after like 20 minutes and knock. Surprisingly, she answers instead of a parent.
F: Hey.
Me: Hi. Can I come in?
F: That's why I invited you here, isn't it?
Smug much damn? Kidding guys I love her! I walk in behind her and we go straight to her room (weird, we usually stop for drinks or snacks but she seemed like she was in a rush). We get to her room and she sits down on her bed. I sit on the beanbag chair next to her but she looks up.
F: Sit with me.
Uhhh. Ok. I get up and join her on the bed. She starts talking about a movie she watched recently then looks up and just looks at me and stops.
F: I'm sorry, about everything recently. My parents, us not talking, everything.
Me: Hey, it's not your fault. Your parents just need to learn boundaries a little.
F: Yeah I guess.
We sit in silence for a minute then she sighs. She turns on the TV and clicks a random movie. To be honest, I wish I could say I don't remember what it was because of what happens next, but I'd be lying. I love Nemo and I will never claim to have forgotten him. F seems fidgety the whole time, and when I realized why it was too late.
So guys I'm gonna give you a quick reminder from earlier. Me and F did date, for less than a week. Because we realized it wasn't going to work out with us as more than friends. And this is where it all began. My biggest mistake and hers. Oops I guess.
As I'm watching the movie and we get to the part where Marlin and Dory are in the minefield, I feel the bed move a little bit. I figure she's just stretching or something, since we've been sitting for a while. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder. Then lips...on my lips?! NONONONONO! I pull away the literal second it happens and F looks up, seemingly embarrassed (wonder why Op?!)
F: What's wrong?
Me: Look, I know what's going on. And I don't want you to push a relationship because it's what your mom wants.
She looks shocked. Then hurt. Then the rage of a thousand suns fills her eyes. I assume it's aimed at me and prepare for backlash. She gets up and walks out the door, slamming it behind her. What? Then it begins. The screaming. Two women fighting behind a veil of pure unadulterated fury.
F: WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING YOU BI---?
EM: WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO YOUNG LADY!? I AM YOUR MOTHER AND I WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED IN MY OWN HOUSE! YOU CAN LEAVE IF YOU'RE GOING TO TALK LIKE THAT!
So much anger, glass shattering (not an exaggeration either, F threw a porcelain mug and it shattered against the door I was in). Fear struck my heart as I realized, I was going to die (that is an exaggeration). They were at it for a good thirty minutes. I've never heard so many bad words or insults or abortion threats. What was happening? Even ED didn't dare step in the way of this massacre of men.
F: I'm done with you. I'm done. You ruined the one chance I had of actually getting with someone I cared about because you couldn't get it out of your stupid god damn brain that we HAD to be together. You ruined it. Not me, not him. You ruined everything!
With that she ran into her room and locked the door. She was crying, and I think she forgot I was in there for a good 10 seconds. She was lying on her bed in a ball when I walked up and put my hand on her back. She looked up, ready to argue, then realized it was me. She just started crying louder and looked down. I don't want to get into too much detail on what was said, because it was really personal. But we talked for hours upon hours upon hours. By the time we stopped, it was around 11pm. She offered to let me sleep over, to which I responded she was a psychopath (jokingly. She wasn't her mom after all). Then I got my stuff together and walked out the door. As I was leaving she stopped me.
F: So...I'll see you tomorrow right?
Me: Of course you will.
We both stood there for a few seconds before I sighed. I leaned in and kissed her. Yup, on the lips. She looked absolutely confused out of her mind before I turned and walked off. This time I walked home, because I didn't care about the cold. A lot had happened and I was just tired. I got home to a lot of yelling from my dad, who demanded to know why I was so late and if F was "as done with my bullshit as he was". I smiled and flipped him off. I suck at being a son. Later that night I was laying in bed wondering what the hell had just happened. The next day we decided it would be official, we were a couple. Happy ending, right? Wrong. ED decided it was his turn to step in, and took her phone. Then he called the school to make sure we never saw each other (because of previous allegations, they happily agreed to keep us separated). After that I never saw F for a full three days, before we finally ran into each other in the hallway. It had been hell. ED had even tried homeschooling her before he realized he had to register and fill out a bunch of paperwork to do that. We mutually agreed with this much toxicity in her family, there was absolutely no way we were going to make it as a couple. We decided to remain friends, but weren't as close until a few months after, when my dad ended up hospitalized. After that we started talking all the time again, and became the best friends we are now. And that everyone, is the story of how my best friend's mom tried to use every single trick she knew to get me and her daughter to start dating, only to have it ripped from her hands behind her back by her own husband. I hope you all enjoyed!
Authors Note: Guys you've made Reddit history. Look at my account after 2 days. There's been so much support, and so many people have have taken the side of a stranger because he brought a few minutes of joy to them with something he wrote. This should be the end...but it's only the beginning my friends. I have more stories about me and F, more about her parents that don't belong on entitledparents , and more stories to just share in general. I love the community you guys have helped me accidentally build in just a few days, and let's keep it growing. Be ready to spread some positivity, and get ready for more great stories involving me, F, and so many more. I'll even try to get her to open an account for you guys, so you can hear some more stories from her point of view. Expect more stories daily, and let's keep this alive! I love you all, and I'll see you tomorrow morning when I post my first CB story! Happy Late Valentine's Day my friends!
submitted by PlannedBaronhood to u/PlannedBaronhood [link] [comments]

BEATles copypastas (spread these within and without reddit like a thick disease)

🤔 Does Donald J Trump want to eat Paul McCartney's ass?

for some weird reason ( im not gay) the image it stuck in my mind when I saw Paul back in 1992 from a really short distance was that of his huge ass. for years I thought well maybe being squezzed as I was at the time by the crowd in the stadium it messed up my vision a little bit. and now decades later I come across this video and theres a picture of him I have never seen before and is no other than the one at 00:55 showing the big weird looking ass I saw ages ago. I said to people at the time !Paul has a huge fat ass! and they all would say naaa you tripping, dude kind of skinny man! well glad to see the evidence then after all this years. I wasnt tripping AT ALL!

Yellow Submarine Trailer

Nothing is real. The Beatles, Yellow Submarine. Aaaah, look at all the lonely people. Aaaah look at all the lonely people. Artwork. Photography. Landscapes painted with Beatles sounds. Picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees, and marmalade skies. We all live in a yellow submarine. The yellow submarine. The forces of good. The Beatles. The Boob. I must complete my bust. Two novels, finished by blueprint. Begin my beguine. Hey Jeremy, must you always talk in rhyme? If I spoke prose, you’d all find out. I don’t know what I talk about. He’s a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land. The forces of evil. Robin, the butterfly stomper. Snapping Turtle Turks. The Apple Bonkers. The terrible Flying Glove. The arch villain, the Blue Meanie. You could pass for the originals. We are the originals. We’re Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, we hope you will enjoy the show! Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, sit back and let the evening go! Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band! Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds! Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds! Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds! Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds! All you need is love, love! Love is all you need. It’s all in the mind you know. Hey! Look at John, will ya? What’s the matter, John love? Blue Meanies? Newer and bluer Meanies have been sighted within the vicinity of this theater! There’s only one way to go out. How’s that? Singing! One! Two! Three! Four! We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

John's Abuse Joked

Idk... but a lot of the jokes being made about Lennon’s abuse both on here and on Instagram really annoy me. I mean, he was going through a rough time... and it wasn’t like it was EXTREMELY severe. He was drunk, high or both a lot of the time. I’m not condoning this, heck, abuse of any kind is one of the worst things to happen to anyone, and I feel bad for Cynthia...
But I feel like it’s wrong and disrespectful to keep either joking about the abuse, or demonizing John for it. That’s just my view. Does anyone agree?

Finna S U C C John's D I C C A Bit More

This again? John was a complex person. Anyone can be an abusive violent asshole. But John acknowledged his dark side in public and fought from then only to be a better human being and spread the message of love and peace.
So what is the point of this post? To say to everyone that we are are forever trapped in the prison of our genes and upbringing and no attempts that we make to better ourselves will ever count?

Creepypasta: Run For Your Life

Imagine you're yourself just listening to the Beatles, you're listening to Rubber Soul, you love that album, it's your favorite and you love all the songs on them...almost all of them. Run for your life is a song that John Lennon says he regrets writing, some say it's because it was about abuse (which is BS because he loved to beat his waifu), but rumor has it that the song is cursed, and knowing this, you avoid listening to it, only occasionally accidentally hearing the first few chords. The odd thing is sometimes when you accidentally hear them and then stop the album, you can hear something in the distance , it sounds something like slapping, but you aren't sure.
One day, you're outside, enjoying the summer sun with your phone playing your favorite album while reading your favorite book, you feel relaxed, suddenly, a neighbor comes over (she's a sweet old lady, she talks about her grandchildren and she goes on about how one of them is now graduating high school or something) then while talking, you didn't notice till it started, the song started playing, Run for your life. The song made the lady nervous, when it was almost done, she said she had to go, she waddled away as fast as her wrinkles could carry her.
When she's gone, you hear that slapping sound, it's quiet at first, but grows loud as the seconds tic on, they sound like they're behind you, you turn behind you, you see a blurry thing in the trees behind you, seemingly moving forward. You're scared but look at it was it reveals itself as it comes out of the trees, and bushes, it's a creature that you thought was only a legend, it was an absolute madman. You wanted to scream as it seemingly glides across the grass toward you, holding a poorly drawn knife and blooding coming out of his eyes and him singing "imagine" but in a deep pitch. You're so scared, when you finally scream, it's too late and he kills you like he did to Paul in 6619.
How do I know this happened to you? Because I am you, you're dead, I am dead, you're in Hell, I'm in hell, I'm typing this from my computer in my demon apartment (expensive rent by nice view :/ ). I'm also from the future, But you're in the past, The Beatles are in hell, too, all of them except Rigno, physically, his soul is in hell, but his body is still alive for some reason.
You also need to know this, read the first word of every paragraph, and don't look in front of you.

Creepypasta: I Saw Paul

October 8th, 2013, Wednesday Morning
On one sunny day, I was minding my own business having my cup of coffee. (As always) and going outside to get some air. As I was stepping outside I've noticed a blank DVD on my porch steps. The case had nothing on it but mild blood stains. I quickly brought it inside to watch it. As I was starting it up, my computer keyboard went haywire and kept on clicking the Tab button. Nevertheless I thought it glitched out. (Due to the fact that my computer is a Windows Vista.)
The DVD loaded up, and the opening was quite disturbing. It was a figure of John Lennon from a distance stabbing someone on the floor in a dark hall way, with only tiny little beams of light shining. My mind was racing with a whole bunch of question. "Did The Beatles really do this?" "Is that John Lennon?". As John was stabbing that person his song Imagine was playing in the background. I was quite shock of this!
But the song didn't play normally... Instead it had a much slower tempo to it, and John Lennon was saying "Imagine there's no Paul, it's easy if you try." I only guessed one thing, it's Paul McCartney he was stabbing! But why? Why would he kill his own bandmate? I continued to watch it. After John finished stabbing that person, the camera got closer to the body. When the camera made its way to the body, it showed Paul McCartney with his eyes removed, nose sliced off, and blood coming out throw his mouth. The sight of that made me lose my appetite!
Then after that, The scene continues with John Lennon in a dark room repeating, "Turn me on, dead man" and, "I WILL bury Paul" as John was saying that, he was sharping his knife. Until a gentle knock came on the door. It looked like it was George Harrison. This person said, "John, wheres Paul?" John Lennon simply replied with, "Imagine there's no Paul. It's easy if you try..." George knew that John went off the deep end.
But he said in a louder tone, "WHY JOHN??!!! WHY??!!!" The screen went black. I wasn't sure if it was my computer or the DVD. Anyways, the screen was flashing like if someone was flicking the bathroom lights on you. I paused as quick as I can to see who was under all those lights. After all those unsuccessful attempts, I finally got it. Under all those lights, George was on the floor dead.
The scene then continued to an abandoned city. It showed Ringo Starr, on a small rock, with a noose tied up, and it showed Ringo's hand grabbing it. The screen went black and twisted voice screaming was heard. I felt like vomiting! I've not heard something that demonic since watching The Exorcist. The screen stayed black for about 20 seconds, and during does 20 seconds was the sound of female fans crying.
And by that time, I couldn't take it anymore. So, I took the DVD out, and brought it to dump.
October 9th, 2013, Wednesday Morning
I got up this morning, went on my newly updated computer. (Windows 8) and saw the news. Paul McCartney Was Killed! It said that he was stabbed to death. isn't it ironic?

I Actually Really Like Yellow Submarine Side 2

To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Yellow Submarine Side 2. The Lyrics Are extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of music theory most of the themes will go over a typical listener’s head. There’s also Jeremy Hillary Boob PhD’s nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation- his personal philosophy draws heavily from Narodnaya Volya literature, for instance. The fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these lyrics, to realise that they’re not just catchy- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike Yellow Submarine Side 2 truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn’t appreciate, for instance, the genius in "Yellow Submarine in Pepperland”, which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev’s Russian epic Fathers and Sons. I’m smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as Faul’s genius wit unfolds itself on their AudioLaserdisc™ player. What fools.. how I pity them. 😂
And yes, by the way, i DO have a Yellow Submarine Side 2 tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It’s for the ladies’ eyes only- and even then they have to demonstrate that they’re within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand. Nothin personnel kid 😎

"People" Just Can't Grasp The Genius Of The Beatles

To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand The Beatles. The lyrics are extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical instrumentation most of the notes will go over a typical listener’s head. There’s also John’s nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his songwriting- his personal philosophy draws heavily from Narodnaya Volya literature, for instance. The fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these songs, to realize that they’re not just catchy- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike The Beatles truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn’t appreciate, for instance, the beauty in Paul’s existential track “Why Don't We Do It In The Road,” which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev’s Russian epic Fathers and Sons. I’m smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as The Beatles’ genius wit unfolds itself on their speakers. What fools.. how I pity them. 😂
And yes, by the way, I DO have an Abbey Road tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It’s for the ladies’ eyes only- and even then they have to demonstrate that they’re within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand. Nothin personnel kid 😎

stoP WitH The mEmes thIs Is StarTing to trUn tO i junK i wAnt BeAtLe ConvErsaTiOns And nEwS noT MeMes

I'vE beEn a luRkEr fOr The BeAtLes SuBrEdDit For A yeAr Now, I've seeN tHe bLeSsEd AnD tHe damMed. ReMembEr tHe FrAnk CrIsp DrAma? WEll What goEs on noW iS 20x woRsE tHat. I gO on tHis SubReDdIt to LoOk for gOoD, mEaNinGful aNd wEll WritTen diScUssIons and posTs bUt WhAt to I Get? Crap mEmeS WitH Crap pUncHliNes AcCompAnieD wItH Crap piCturEs. We gEt iT You DoN'T LikE YOko, nO onE cAres. No onE evEr tRiEs tO evEn sTarT A diScUsSioN As Well, wE'Ve BeComE Num WitH aLl ThiS shIt tHaT wE jUsT LeT iT crAwl oVeR us likE rAtS In SeweR. ThiS shIt cOmeDy Has To stoP or thIs sub iS jUst GoNnA to be ForGottEn aboUt wItH a yeaR. I wanT thIs suB To bE A PlaCe WheRe faNs Can DisCuSs tOpIcS FreEly and nOt bE dRonEd OuT by all tHis baD, sOme hOw, poPuLar MemEs. So plEase, hEaR mE Out On thIs One.

"Based On The Interactions I've Had With The Mods Here, They Are Very Pro-Free Speech"

I've remained mostly silent about this, but yeah I agree. Some of the memes are funny, most of them are not. Like yeah, I get that picture of John looking like a cowboy made of denim is goofy, but it's not as funny to us regulars who've been on the sub for years and have seen this picture dozens of times.
The problem is, we have a large population of younger Beatles fans, and if there's anything I know about people my age, we love memes. I don't have problems when they're well done, but some people think that the shittier your shitpost is, the funnier it is, when that's really not the case.
On the other side, a lot of suggestions that I hear when people talk about this is to either ban them or move them to another sub. I don't believe that either of these are the right solution at all. Banning them is really silly and based on the interactions I've had with the mods here, they are very pro-free speech. For instance, there was a large influx of Paul is Dead nuts posting here one time and I asked the mods if they had considered banning posts related to the conspiracy theory similar to /Nirvana did with conspiracy theories around Kurt Cobain's death. Their response was that even if the posts are low quality or factually incorrect, they should still have the right to be able to post them.
My suggestion is this: downvote them. That's all you gotta do. If the people of this sub truly think that these memes are irrelevant to our sub, then downvote it. You guys don't seem to have a problem downvoting me when I give opinions that you don't agree with, why can't you downvote a low effort meme? "

Regarding Memes

Hello all!
I'm going to keep it short and sweet. /Beatles has always aimed to be a place for all kinds of beatles fans. Those interested in trivia, photos, jokes, videos and, of course, memes.
It's important to note that we are in no way against memes and try not to censor content at all, memes are one of reddit's main assets after all. However, recently there seems to have been a surge of them and we've seen many of your responses - either in messages to the moderators or as responses to posts.
As a result we have temporarily cracked down on the memes, primarily the repetitive 'madman' ones. This is not a permanent solution and we will not be removing all of them, but enough so that the sub doesn't seem so filled up with them.
Please post your opinions on the situation and how we could possibly take care of it in the comments, we want this to be a place for all beatlemaniacs.
-The /Beatles Mods

Can Someone Please Explain...

Could someone please explain this subreddit to me? I only came across it yesterday when I made my second reddit account (this one).
Is it a club of John-haters?

Why Ringo Starr Is A Reptillian Space Wizard Sent Here To Take Over Our Government

hello my sweet lords, u/stefanristic02 back at you again with another sick post about the johnlennonbeat-les. before i begin the post, dont forget to mod me, and smash that upvote button. lets see if we can get to 2 upvotes.
EDIT - WE DID IT! LET'S SEE IF WE CAN GET 10 UPVOTES EDIT 2 - MY SWEET LORD WE DID IT! LETS SEE IF WE CAN GET TO 20 UPVOTES EDIT 3 - DON'T FORGET TO JOIN THE RINGO STAR IS A REPTILLIAN SPACE WIZARD DISCORD - https://discord.gg/Y9eaUsm
all right now im going to teach you a lesson about the buzzles. in 1966 paul mccartney was unfortunately ran over, replaced by "faul" mccartney. however, what people havent considered is why he was ran over. some think it was an accident, but it wasn't. the moon landing was an accident , but paul's death wasn't.
It was actually done by the lizardpeople in the white house to distract the world from the real scandal - ringo starr is a reptilian space wizard. of course the battles were aware of this, and the clues are everywhere. ringo is wearing a human flesh suit, and is actually only the size of a hamster. he hides in ringos nose, controlling him, which is why his nose is so big. He named himself Ringo Starr becayse he had ringworm at the time and he came from the starrs
the lizardpeople in the white house were turned into lizards by ringo because he is a space wizard and is magical. he says peace and love a lot because that's a code, as it is an acronym for People Engineer A Cheeky Electrical Accident Near Devon - Lots Of Veal Eaten. this has a clear meaning - humanity can only create faults and mistakes, and eat veal. this is why ringo does not eat veal - he is not a human.
ringo joined the beatles because he promised jim lenin a lifetime supply of strawberry callipos if he could play the drums. jimmy accepted the agreement and was famously very happy with his callipos, and wrote many songs about them. for example, penny lane was actually written to mock the working class, who had to work hard and pay for callipos, while johnny got his own private stash. however, he eventually regretted the agreement - he had beaten his wife so much that he was rather skilled at the drums now.
cheeky ringo
anyway, the other bootles were rather cross with him joining, and wrote many songs hinting it. the song it won't be long was about how it won't be long until ringo took over the world. i'll follow the sun was referencing ringos space ship. I want to be your man was Ringo desperately trying to prove that he is a man. Lovely Rita was actually the space leader. Yesterday was about how faul's girlfriend was probed. john also farted lol.
there are plenty more examples, but ringworm was never caught
until now.
But it goes so much further. ringo not only staged a coup, he also controls everything. literally everything. he is in every atom. proof? Here it is.
Ringos surname is Starr. Starr fish are in the sea. What else is in the sea? Octopi. Octopi release ink when agitated. Ink is used in fountain pens. Fountains are used in parks all the time - parks are a big source of grass to fight global warming - globes don't exist because the earth is flat - tires get flat - that means you can't travel easily - people travel across the world in planes - planes are used by the military - the military use planes to drop bombs - what type of bombs? ATOM BOMBS. ATOM BOMBS DROP ATOMS.
RINGO DROPS ATOMS WHEN HE DROPS THAT ASS BECAUSE HE IS ATOMS
HE IS US
WE ARE HIM
HELP US PLEASE
PLEASE STOP INVADING US RINGWORM
Alright thanks for watching guys, don't forget to make me mod, follow on Instagram and Twitter, don't forget to swipe right on tinder, like my Snapchat page, link in my linkedin, pin my Pinterest, subscribe to my newsletter, buy my book, listen to my Spotify playlist and have a very pleasant day.
Little babies and old fucks are probably familiar with the Beatles, the fab four from Manchester who created songs for a the first generation of Beliebers to listen to. "Just harmless pop music" I hear you say. THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG YOU FUCKING MANSPLAINING SHITHEAD! You'd have to be doing a STEM subject, a trade, or special ed not to notice some of their problematic lyrics and images in their records. Some people like my fucking straight white cis male grandpa (glad you're dead you old fuck) say that they're just from a different time and that this was just how things were back then, but that's a problematic viewpoint to have. If art or culture from another time doesn't conform to my 21st century viewpoint, then I'm in my full right to censor it to prevent it from hurting other people. Now, on to the tofu of the matter. These are four songs from the Beatles that are racist, sexist, homophobic or problematic in general.

The Beatles' PROBLEMATIC Albums

1- She's a Woman
The first entry on my list is a fucking shitty song by Paul McCartney about his "love" who was probably a 15 year old groupie, the fucking pedo. The song is fucking boring, except for one line. The title of the song, "She's a Woman". HOW FUCKING DARE YOU ASSUME XYR GENDER YOU FUCKING CIS WHITE MALE! This wouldn't be a problem otherwise, but I myself have suffered from gender discrimination. My manager at Walmart referred to me as a "she" when I had mentally transitioned to genderneutral the night before. I can't believe that she didn't know about it, as I had tweeted about it and wrote about it on my Tumblr blog.
2- Run For Your Life
Did you know that John Lennon beat his wife? Of course you did, because the shithead just looks like a fucking wife beater. He didn't exactly keep this secret, though, and mentioned it in several of his shitty songs. This one just takes the piss however. "You better run for your life if you can, little girl". First, "little girl" I THINK THEIR ALL JUST PEDOS!. Secondly, this is a threat that could trigger PTSD in women who have been abused. I myself was once assaulted by a local butcher when he viciously told me to get out of his shop when I was protesting his use of meat. I was only using his fire extinguisher to ruin his murder spoils, he should have helped me! It being his "property" doesn't even matter because they're shouldn't even be private property. Remember what Freddie Mercury said. "Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can" and I think he should have listened to more Queen. Anyway, to conclude, John beat his wife.
3- Something
This song is problematic in the fact that it promotes unrealistic standards in women. "I want a short haired girl who sometimes wears it twice as long". How dare George Parasol tell ME how to wear MY hair! Songs like this were probably the reason that boys never talked to me in high school. This song should've promoted body positivity and had a line "A GIRL CAN BE 197 KILOS AT 16 IF SHE WANTS TO AND ITS YOUR FUCKING FAULT THAT SHES THAT HEAVY ADRIAN JUST BECAUSE YOU WENT OUT WITH THAT WHORE ASHLEY INSTEAD OF ME I BET SHES FUCKING STUPID AND YOU ONLY WENT OUT WITH HER FOR HER FUCKING HUGE TITS! I hope George dies of cancer.
4- George Harrison
George Harrison is a fucking racist. He probably just became a muslim because it was cool. On behalf of all Indians, I apologise for that fucking white person's disrespect of youre country. He had the gall to steal the Suitar from Indistan and play it on his old fuck white people records. I think, if I was an Indian, I would be horrified by the level of cultural appropriation and demand reparations. Another aspect of him thats racist is his use of indian music, which is theirs and you shouldn't be allowed to learn or play if you are a white person. He also started the concert for pakistan, but probably stole all the money because he's a greedy rich white male. He also cheated on his wife because she cheated on him. IF A WOMAN WANTS TO HAVE SEX WITH ANOTHER MAN, SHE SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO YOU SEXIST! He is just overall a fucking bigot.
Anyway, those are my reasons that the Beatles are fucking racist, sexist and bigoted and should be banned in any progressive country. Please give me more reasons in the comments and reblog.

I Will Now Prove That John Lennon Died

I will now prove that John Lennon died. While making Magical Mystery Tour John overdosed on drugs and died. They had to finish the album, and so they had to replace all of Side B with singles. Paul was put in John's place in all his unfinished scenes; The Walrus Was Paul. They had to find someone who looked like him, so they found someone who looked similar, but was married to Yoko Ono. He wouldn't divorce her at any cost, so they had to deal with her as well as this new John. He also had to do a John Lennon impression, so that's why his voice sounds deeper in his songs. He couldn't handle so he just took too many drugs. They had to do the White Album seperatly, because the songwriting wasn't as strong between this fake John and Paul. Blue Jay Way was written about John's death "Please don't be long" showing George's dissapproval of them replacing John, wishing he would come back. While My Guitar Gently Weeps is also about that. John was the other guitar player. It's also hinted in the end of Yellow Submarine. At the live action part at the end, John has like 2 lines. On Abbey Road John is the only one in white. White is considered a heavenly colour. Turn Me On Dead Man and I'd love to turn you on. It's Johnnys Birthday was also about John. Sad to see that wonderful man pass away at such a young age, and I wish that they would reveal the truth about it

Complete List Of Things The Beatles Invented:

Boy bands, One Direction - The Beatles
Punk, metal, heavy rock - helter skelter
Rap - I Am The Walrus
Peace - John Lennon
MTV - All You Need Is Love broadcast
Indie rock - RAM
Album filler - Ringo songs
Studio banter on an album - Let It Be album
Music Videos - the A Hard Days Night film
Psychedelia - Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Underrated Songs - Hey Bulldog
Hidden bonus tracks - Her Majesty
Ed Sheeran - Her Majesty
Diss tracks - How Do You Sleep
Lo-fi garage rock - Polythene Pam
Grunge rock - Plastic Ono Band (Lennon)
“pet sounds” - Rubber Soul album
EDM - Tomorrow Never Knows
Tame Impala - It’s All Too Much
Twee Pop - Her Majesty
Concept Albums - Sgt Peppers
Emo - Don’t Bother Me
Trans-positivity - Polythene Pam, Lovely Rita, Get Back, Ob-La-Di
Bands playing stadium venues - Shea Stadium Concert
Bands wearing leather jackets - Cavern Club performances
Avant-Garde - Revolution 9
Combining takes - Strawberry Fields Forever
The inclusion of french horns in pop music - For No One
“Absolute madman” meme - john lennon walking with yoko ono
Mom-rock - paul mccartney
Dad-rock - george harrison
Stoner-rock - also george harrison
Low-effort album covers - White Album
Band break ups - the beatles (1970)
The Word
This Boy commented they made Shoegaze genre decades before MBV with Wild Honey Pie

This Is A Serious Message

this is a SERIOUS message to everybody watching my update right now peace and love peace and love i want to tell you, please, after the twentieth of october do not send fan mail to any address that you have nothing will be signed after the twentieth of october if that has a date on the envelope it's gonna be TOSSED i'm warning you with peace and love but i have too much to do so no more fan mail thank you thank you and no objects to be signed NOTHING uhhh anywaypeaceandlovepeaceandlove

FUCK

the FUCK did you just say about john lennon? the man has more fucking talent in his ring finger than you do in your entire body john made more money by dying than you and i will ever make being alive john and paul literally revolutionized how songs are even thought of and what the modern pop song is every fucking boyband owes their asses to the beatles there was no boy band before the beatles there was just like elvis and shit but the beatles were more than the silly plasticine boybands we get nowadays they fucking EVOLVED like badass 60s pokemon they went from singing about love to fucking WALRUSES and DIAMONDS and GLASS ONIONS all in the span of 8 years so before you MOUTH OFF again about john you'd better think twice, punk

Billy Shears Is Dead

The year is 1961. The Beatles have just finished a gig in Hamburg and are celebrating near the docks. Suddenly, in his drunken state, John Lennon mistakes Paul McCartney for his wife and beats him. The tipsy Paul is unable to keep his balance and falls into the waters below. The other Beatles immediately realise what just happened and flee the scene. A month later, they find a replacement for Paul. For the next five years they play and reach world fame with their replacement bassist William 'Pepper' Shears until the fateful date. An unprecedented all-nighter for Revolver ends in the early hours of Wednesday and the Beatles hear a knock at the door. Ringo is the first to answer. "Who is it" he asks, "Postman" a familiar voice answers. As Ringo opens the door the man on the other side kicks it hard, knocking Ringo to the floor. John takes a second to recognise him. It's Paul McCartney, and he's pissed! He swam back to the shore in a minute that night, but the others had fled the scene before he could make it. He had spent the intervening years practising with his bass, his voice, and a gun. Before John can tackle him, he fires three shots. Billy Shears is hit in the shoulder and runs for the door. Paul is able to swiftly push John off while George is too busy taking a shit. Billy grabs his car keys and starts speeding off, but Paul fires two more shots which hit Billy's tyre and his windscreen. With shattered glass all over his face and losing control of the car, Billy careens off into a nearby lampost and flies through the shattered windscreen. He dies on impact. After disposing of the body, Paul makes his way back into Abbey Road. "So, where did we leave off?" Paul asks.
Anyway this is my proof that Paul killed Faul.
fixes Groucho Marx glasses and comedy fake mustache.

THE FACT THAT

The fact that so many books still name the Beatles as "the greatest or most significant or most influential" rock band ever only tells you how far rock music still is from becoming a serious art. Jazz critics have long recognized that the greatest jazz musicians of all times are Duke Ellington and John Coltrane, who were not the most famous or richest or best sellers of their times, let alone of all times. Classical critics rank the highly controversial Beethoven over classical musicians who were highly popular in courts around Europe. Rock critics are still blinded by commercial success. The Beatles sold more than anyone else (not true, by the way), therefore they must have been the greatest. Jazz critics grow up listening to a lot of jazz music of the past, classical critics grow up listening to a lot of classical music of the past. Rock critics are often totally ignorant of the rock music of the past, they barely know the best sellers. No wonder they will think that the Beatles did anything worthy of being saved.
submitted by DontWeDoItInTheRoad to beatlescirclejerk [link] [comments]

The Devil Came To Walkerton

I was a military brat when I was younger, always had been. You barely notice it at that age, every move is an adventure, a window into a new part of the country. Fort Rucker. Camp Cooke. Camp Navajo. They're never all that different. The only thing that ever really changed was the weather - and even then, not much.
My father, Col. Calvin Richardson, was a decorated military veteran. No matter where we went, my dad was telling someone what to do, and it seemed as though everyone outside of our immediate family was terrified of him. He could reduce a squadron of hard-ass Marines into nervous chihuahuas with one of his icy, prolonged stares.
The soldiers working under my father had a funny nickname for him. They called him, "The Scarecrow" on account of his missing leg (blown off at the knee while he was serving in the Gulf War), though it never seemed to bother him. In fact, I seem to remember him kind of liking it, as though becoming a scary myth among new recruits was a badge of honor. He relished in their discomfort around him.
Dad's missing leg was a grim fascination for me back then, though most of the time there'd be no way for a casual observer to even tell that it was gone - he almost always wore a lifelike prosthetic.
After a childhood of constant movement, followed by a brief period of remaining sedentary, my life had finally started taking root. I was fifteen years old; I had myself a good network of friends, a happy school life, and, most important of all, a sense of personal identity. All things considered, it was quite possibly the worst time for another spontaneous move to set in and jangle my world out of order. That, however, would be exactly the case.
Something was different this time, though. Our next location wasn't a military base, or somewhere even faintly associated with the military. It was the small, backwoods village of Walkerton, nestled discretely into the mountains of Colorado, just North of Denver. It'd been established during the mass-mining period after precious metals were discovered in the nearby mountains, but commerce quickly withered once the local gold reserves were depleted.
By the nineties, which is when we took residence there, it was nothing more than a little husk of a town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.
"Why do we have to live here, mom?" I remember whining a number of times.
"It's for your father's work, sweetie," she would always reply, never giving me her full attention, "It's what's best for all of us."
I'd never whine to dad, though. He spent most days cooped up in his office, drinking cups of coffee and chain-smoking like he wouldn't live past tomorrow. Whenever he'd emerge, shrouded in a pall of tobacco and coffee-fumes, an order of "silence" seemed to be etched into every crease lining his stony face.
Even dad's facial expressions had deep shades of ironclad authority to them.
It was an unseasonably hot summer when we first arrived, and school was already out, so I spent my abundant free time trying to make friends. I was a new kid in a town where the last new, exciting development was the advent of cable television, and before that the steam train, so I quickly became an object of curiosity for the local kids.
Before I knew it, I had three friends: Bobby, Richard, and Susan. Naturally, they were all full of questions about me, my family, and all the places I'd been.
"What are the army bases like?"
"Have you ever seen your dad shoot anyone?"
"What do your parents even do around here?"
The answers were always the same: "boring", "no", and "I'm not really sure." We were all the same age, but sometimes they felt sheltered enough to be a few years younger. Bobby and Richard had never been beyond the Walkerton town borders, and Susan was only beating them by a nose - she'd once had a four day vacation in Denver with her family when she was eleven, and tried out some of the local ski slopes. Nothing more.
"What exactly is there to, you know, do around here?" I asked once.
"Not much," I remember Susan replying, "This place is practically a retirement village. Old people come here to live out their last five without all the pressures of the city."
"It's true," Bobby chimed in, "My brother, Francis, he left this place as soon as he could. He's a mechanic in Boulder now."
I groaned and silently cursed my dad for bringing us here, and my mom for always giving in to him.
"There are some things you can do," Richard added, seeming to be the only one willing to stand up for that one-horse town, "We could hang out by the creek."
"That's lame," said Susan, sneering, "Only babies hang out at the creek. Besides, the water stinks, it gets full of pond scum this time of year."
Richard shrugged and looked defeated.
"All we really do here is wait until we're old enough to leave," Susan said, "This place is a nightmare. It's like living inside the color beige."
When I turned around to Bobby to see if he had anything to add, he was shooting insulin into his wrist.
"Walkerton sucks. When I'm eighteen, I'm gonna move to Boulder with Francis." He said, "What about you, Sue?"
"I don't care," she replied, "I'll settle for anywhere that isn't here."
Richard, who I'd pegged as the quiet one, spoke up.
"My sister got an NES for her birthday. If she's not home, we might be able to play it."
Susan's eyes lit up.
"Holy shit, really?" She asked, enthusiasm bleeding into her tone, "What do you think are the odds of her not being home?"
"Pretty high. She's always with her boyfriend."
"Sweet! Sounds like we've got our afternoon planned." Susan said with a chuckle.
Seems like a stupid memory to keep, doesn't it? 20 years and I still remember an afternoon of playing Super Mario Brothers and Contra with three dumb kids, just like me, not a care in the whole world. It's funny what sticks with you.
"Alright, we're going for flu shots," my dad said in his commanding monotone, "I set the date with Dr. Hale earlier in the week."
It felt like the first thing he'd said to us since we arrived, and it just made me despise him more.
"Dad, we've been here for two weeks, it's not even flu season."
"Every season is flu season, Tabby."
"I told you not to call me that, dad, it's Tabitha! I'm fifteen now!"
He offered a chuckle and knelt down, kissing me on the forehead and ruffling my hair.
"But you'll always be my little Tabby-cat, sweetie. Now, let's get going, it's rude to keep a doctor waiting."
It was foolish to argue. Anyone who knew my dad was aware that he was the personification of the metaphorical "immovable object." There was no room for persuasion or bargaining, if he said something, that meant it simply was to be.
And so we drove to the cramped office of Dr. Ben Hale, and he administered three painful shots into the arms of myself, my dad, and my mother. It had a kind of aching kick to it, like having rabbits in your veins. That's how I always remembered it.
"So," Bobby said, with all the grave seriousness of a world leader at a UN meeting, "Who would win in a fight, Batman or Superman?"
"That's a stupid question, dork," Susan replied nonchalantly, looking at herself in a pocket mirror, "Anyone with a brain could tell you that Wonder Woman would kick both of their asses."
Bobby turned his eyes to me, pleading for cooperation with his stare.
This was all typical cafeteria debate for us.
"Sorry, Bobby," I said, a smile coming to life on my lips, "I'm gonna have to side with Susan on that one."
Richard was being quieter than usual. He picked languidly at the food on his plastic tray with a fork, never eating it, just shifting it from place to place. He was facing downwards, but his vacant, wide-eyed stare seemed to be looking past the table and the floor. Gazing intently at some undetermined point.
"You gonna back me up, Richie?" Bobby asked.
Richard seemed to jolt, like he'd been given an electric shock.
"Sorry, sorry, what were you saying?" He said, still appearing absent from the conversation. His mind wandered elsewhere.
"Everything okay, Rich?" I asked, "You look like a zombie."
He sighed and put down his fork.
"It's my sister, she got real sick last night. Throwing up and stuff."
"That's nothing new," Bobby said, "People get sick all the time, you've got nothing to worry about."
"You didn't see her, Bobby," Richard said, an unusual coldness clinging to his voice, "You didn't see her. She was as white as a ghost, and she was making this horrible face. I've seen a face like that before."
"Where?" I asked.
"My aunt's funeral. Open-casket."
We issued a collective shudder, and fell silent. I think we were all secretly praying that things would turn out alright, but we never shared a word about it. Not once.
Sometimes - as all children, on some level, believe - saying a deep, ugly fear out loud could make it real.
For the first time since we arrived, dad had joined us for the family dinner. We said our prayers, filled our plates with roast beef and string beans, and sat across from one another at the table. Dad had a tendency to eat in silence, and I wasn't the exactly the talkative type either - I suppose you could say I got that from him.
"Funny thing at work today," Mom said, while trying to wrestle a chunk of string bean out from between her teeth with her tongue, "I had to fill in for Martha, she was off sick. Again. This has been the second day in a row."
My eyes met my father's, and he gave a knowing smile.
"What did I tell you, Tabby, flu season! I bet you're glad you got inoculated now."
I rubbed my bicep, feeling the residual pain spike again with the memory. It hurt to admit it, but he was right.
"You didn't let me finish," mom whined, "Martha was meant to be filling in for Anna, who's been off too. So I had to do two people's work, plus my own. It's a nightmare."
"Better than the alternative, I imagine," dad said, effortlessly cutting a cube of beef from his thick steak, "Flu's a bigger nightmare. Once you get it in the barracks, it can put your whole unit out of commission for a few days at a time. Goddamn nuisance."
"Richard's sister was sick too." I added.
"Huh. You hear that, Joan? Seems like it's going around."
My mom nodded and swallowed her mouthful, "It's strange. You don't normally see flu till October."
"Hmm. Yeah." Dad replied.
The rest of the night went by in relative quiet. We all had plenty to think about.
Later in the week, the real bad news finally began to hit. I felt as though I'd been watching a long fuse slowly burn up before my eyes, but I stayed blissfully ignorant. Until the bomb went off under my feet.
The classroom was looking unusually empty, with only a few students sitting around on desks far apart from one another. Bobby and Susan were both there, but Richard was absent. Hell, even the teacher was gone, and we had a hungover-looking substitute writing his name up on the chalkboard.
There was a dark cloud hanging over Bobby and Susan. She was quiet, and Bobby had red halos around his eyes, and cheeks still puffy from tears.
It was abundantly clear that they knew something I didn't.
"Guys, what's wrong?" I asked, turning back to them, "Why isn't Richie in today?"
Bobby looked like he might start bawling at any minute. Susan spoke up on his behalf.
"It's his sister," she said, biting her lower lip, "She, uh, didn't...she didn't make it through the night."
"Wait, what? What the hell do you mean she didn't make it through the night?" I asked, finding it almost impossible to process.
"My mom just said she fell unconscious and just didn't wake up. Her heart just stopped."
"But that's...no, it can't...come on, Bobby, this has got to be some kind of joke."
Bobby didn't provide any reassurance, he just nodded his head meekly and fell into his arms, sobbing again. Susan awkwardly patted his back in an attempt to comfort him.
"Everyone's getting sick," Susan said, concern audible in her voice, "School's at like half attendance today. It's just getting worse."
"I'm sure it'll get better, these things always do."
"No," Susan said, "You just only hear about them when they do."
I felt a chill crawl down my back and went quiet. Susan tried to comfort Bobby, to no avail, and the substitute teacher seemed to collapse into his desk chair.
At that moment, I thought I'd hit rock bottom. Nobody could have guessed that it was only the beginning.
"The most terrible thing happened today," my mom was saying in her usual shrill tone, "You wouldn't believe it."
"Try me," dad replied, putting pepper on his plate of lasagna.
I'd lost my appetite completely. I just sat there, taking half-hearted prods at my food.
"Martha passed away. It's terrible! She was on her way out of the house, and she just collapsed. Rosa said she had cardio pul...pull...something to do with her heart, anyway. It was like she just went to sleep, and died at the hospital."
Dad's thin eyebrows raised in a grim expression of curiosity. I think if he made another "I told you so" jibe about my flu shots, I'd have stabbed him with my fork.
"Seems we've got an outbreak on our hands."
"Can you and your people do anything about it, Calvin? Martha isn't the only one, you know. I heard on the grapevine that a few other people have died under similar circumstances - mostly elderly, granted - but one was a seventeen year old girl."
I felt my throat tighten. I knew who they were talking about.
"I'll pass something up the chain of command," he said, taking a sip of his coffee, "It's really more the CDC's department than mine, but I'll put my feelers out. I can't have my two special girls worrying about these things."
Dad ruffled my hair again, and got up from the table. He quarantined himself in his office for the rest of the night, and shortly after that, I made my way up to my bedroom.
In bed, I managed to steal a few tiny fragments of tortured sleep, but I couldn't get to any kind of consistency. My head was full of hornets, I had thoughts and worries that nothing could assuage.
First and foremost, the way Bobby looked in class earlier that day. He was heartbroken - maybe he'd had a crush on Richie's sister for years, who knows - but there was more to it than that. He didn't just look sad...he looked sick.
When I finally got to the precipice of actual sleep, I was startled by noise outside my window that sounded vaguely like screaming. I drew back the curtains, my heart full of panic and trepidation, and saw flashing lights all across town, tearing into the night sky.
Ambulances. Ambulances everywhere.
Locals started calling it "The Night The Devil Came To Walkerton". 83 deaths - young and old, rich and poor, men and women - all near-enough simultaneous. They'd experienced severe flu-like symptoms for a day or two, then just slipped into unconsciousness, and finally off the mortal coil altogether. It was an unprecedented event, something that should have made national headlines. Even at that age, I felt a sense of terror and frustration at the fact that nobody seemed to be coming to help us.
Worse still, once the dust had settled, I came to know that Richard was among the people of Walkerton now wearing toe tags.
The next day at school was quiet. In class, it was just me and a few other random students, people who I'd never taken the time to know. Everyone else was either sick or had somebody to mourn. You could feel death in the air, like the aftermath of a lightning strike, it hung heavy with the smell of it.
Bobby...Susan...was it already too late for them?
After school, I decided to walk the back way home and dodge whatever was passing for "crowds" in the other direction. Even in my short time spent there, I'd learned enough routes from Susan, Bobby, and Richard to help me get around with ease. I tried my very best to keep them pushed from my mind while I walked - all that thoughts of them gave me was heartache.
Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands tighten limply around my shoulders. I shrieked in shock, tumbling forwards into the ground, and started crawling away from whoever was behind me.
It was Susan, ghost-pale and slick with sweat, eyes burning with fear and agony.
"Bobby's dead, Tabitha," she squeezed out another breath, barely managing to stay standing, "He went unconscious in the bath, drowned before his mom found him. My mom just told me."
Susan looked to be at death's door herself.
"Susan, I need you to calm down, I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"Hurt myself? Ha! What a fucking laugh. I'm going to die, Tabitha, I can feel it in my bones. In a few hours, I can tell I'm gonna go to sleep, just like Richie and Bobby and all the fucking others, and I'm not gonna wake up. That'll be that, dead at fifteen, and I'll never get to leave this shithole town!"
She started shambling towards me like a living corpse, but all I could do was crawl away in terror while Susan's words devolved into a bastard mix of laughter and tears.
"Come back, Tabitha!" She screeched, tears streaming down her face, "I don't want to die alone, Tabitha! Please, just please, don't let me die alone! I'm so fucking scared!"
Soon enough, I found my feet and started bolting down the narrow path away from her. I looked over one shoulder and saw Susan trying to follow me, but she quickly fell over and crumpled up on the ground, sobbing and screaming like it was the end of the world.
The bitter truth then dawned on me that, for her, it was.
For 20 years I've wished that I'd gone back to her and consoled her in her final moments, but I was a coward. I couldn't bear to see the last of my new friends die right in front of me.
That's probably my biggest regret of them all.
I got home shortly afterwards, tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't want my mom and dad to see me crying, so I was surreptitious - gently opening and closing the front door, and slinking in through the lounge.
Mom wasn't there to greet me, and for a moment I feared the very worst. Susan's death had shaken me to my core, but death was everywhere now, it felt like a permanent resident of Walkerton, CO. I think we were all on the verge of growing numb to it.
I heard a muffled shout resonate from behind the door of my dad's office. Swallowing my emotional pain, I pressed my ear to the door and listened closely, until my mom and dad's voices were clear to me.
"You fucking asshole!" I heard my mom yell at him, the sound of sobbing underlying her voice.
"Don't make me the bad guy here, Joan. I'm doing what's right for this family."
"Don't. You. Dare! You don't get to talk about what's right anymore, Calvin. You lost that fucking privilege."
"Oh, come on, you know I have to deal with enough bleeding hearts on the job, I don't need you standing here and fucking moralizing to me! I get enough of that with the bastards at work."
I'd joined their confrontation half way through, and so lacked the benefit of context. I wanted to listen longer, but I heard my mom's enraged footsteps thundering towards the door, and had to sprint up the stairs before she stormed out of dad's office and into the back room.
The whole world seemed to be going insane.
The rest of the night was uneventful. Mom and dad were still giving each other the silent treatment, and I ate dinner in my bedroom. It was inevitable that soon someone was going to find Susan's body on that narrow path, curled up and contorted in pain and misery. When they did, it'd be because I left her there.
When we were all meant to be asleep, I heard mom crying through the wall. She got up just past midnight, still crying, and walked downstairs. I fell asleep before I could hear her walk back up. If she did.
The next morning, I woke up to a scream coming from the lower hallway - it was, unmistakably, my father's.
I sprang from bed and started tearing my way downstairs, and I saw dad, paralyzed, in the hallway. He seemed to register my presence on some level before he could even properly see me.
"Tabitha, don't come down here! Stay in your room!"
But it was too late, I always already half way downstairs when I heard him, and my legs didn't have enough time to stop. Though it didn't take me long to realize why he'd told me to go.
I saw my dad, dressed in his pajamas, his false leg visible, with tears dripping from his chin. Across from him, my mom's body was dangling by her neck from a light fixture.
"No, no, this wasn't meant to happen," Dad said, sounding utterly broken, "This wasn't meant to happen. For fuck's sake, this wasn't meant to happen!"
He slammed his body against the wall, collapsing to his knees, and began hammering his fists into the floor until they left bloodstains. He was yelling and screaming like a monster, while I stood in the middle of the hallway, unable to take any of it in.
"Goddamn it, Joan, I loved you, I only ever did anything for you," Dad screamed at the top of his lungs, sitting at the locus of depression and rage, "Why would you do this to me, to your only daughter! This wasn't meant to happen!"
As dad sobbed and I tried to break from my state of catatonia, I saw a scrap of paper crumpled up near the base of the stairs. I grabbed it and quickly unfurled it, trying to look for some kind of answer.
There were two words, scrawled in my mom's distinctive cursive handwriting.
"He's lying..."
I stuffed the piece of paper into my pocket and looked up at dad, still smashing his hands against the floor and crying like a madman. I didn't even know who I was looking at anymore.
Then, I fainted.
When I woke up, I was looking at the familiar face of Dr. Hale, shining a penlight into my eyes.
"How's she doing, doc?" A police officer standing behind the doctor asked.
"It was touch-and-go for a little while, officer, but things are looking up a little now," he replied, "This little girl is very brave, she's been through an awful lot lately."
I resented being called a little girl, and looked away from the doctor's wrinkled face. I saw my father across the hall, standing against the wall, his hands bandaged up and some semblance of composure back in his face.
Shortly after, a pair of paramedics, assisted by Dr. Hale and my father, carried me up to my bedroom and laid me in bed. They were convinced I'd be alright with time (in a physical sense, anyway) if I got plenty of rest. The local hospital was filled with the dead and the dying, it was no place for a young girl who'd just lost her mother.
The same words, my mother's words, kept echoing through my head all day.
He's lying...
He's lying...
He's lying...
I couldn't bear to face my father, not yet. Mom's note was the answer to a question some part of me, deep and hidden, had been asking ever since our first conversation at the dinner table. Since Richie's sister got sick, and started this whole surreal nightmare.
My dad and I had plenty to talk about, and we would. But there, laying in bed, silently mourning the death of my mother, I made a promise to myself that for once in my short life it'd be under my terms, not his.
That night, when I could be sure my father was in bed, I skulked out of my bedroom and headed downstairs. I had to be smart, I knew that much, you don't get to be a colonel in the US military without being as crafty as a fox, and twice as vicious.
But I did have one thing on my side: dad had always underestimated me, taken my wits for granted. I knew more about him than he thought, including, perhaps most importantly, where he kept his gun.
Around ten minutes later I was walking back up the stairs and sneaking towards my father's bedroom door, in one hand a snub-nose revolver, and in the other a fold-out stool.
Dad didn't stir when I crept in - he was probably taking something to help him sleep - but his eyes started to flutter open once I'd unfolded the stool and sat at the foot of his bed, the stunted, silver barrel of the revolver pointed directly towards him.
"Hey, dad," I said to him through gritted teeth, "We're gonna have a little chat."
He squinted, registering my shape in the room.
"Tabby?" He asked, seeming utterly bemused, as he reached for his prosthetic leg.
Then, he saw the glint of the revolver in the semi-darkness.
"Don't be reaching for anything, dad. Besides, you don't need to walk anywhere right now."
"Dear god, Tabitha, what are you doing?"
"Funny. I was about to ask you the exact same question. You've been bullshitting me, dad, you've been bullshitting a lot of people."
"Tabitha, language!" He barked, his voice full of righteous indignation.
"Shut the fuck up, dad!" I screamed with startling intensity, surprising myself and him, "As if you give a shit about what language I use, you never even speak to me! You barely ever had the time of day for me or mom."
He sat in silence for a moment, now both of our eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I could see the look of pain and confusion in his eyes, and he could see the fury in mine.
"Tabby, I know this has been hard for you, I loved your mother more than life itself, it destroyed me to see her like that. But we can't be playing these stupid games, Tabby, people get locked up for things like this! I don't want my daughter going off the rails too!"
I fired a warning shot that blasted through the headboard.
"For the love of fuck, Tabby!"
"Don't you dare try to fucking spin this around dad, I heard you doing it to her. Mom did what she did because you drove her to it, and I want to know why. You fucking owe me a reason."
"This is insanity, Tabitha. You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Oh, that's where you're wrong, dad. For once, I know exactly what I'm talking about, I know that you've got something to do with why people have been getting sick - with with my friends have been getting sick, and dying as a result. I want to know what exactly you've got to do with it, dad, or I'm gonna shoot you dead."
There was another pause where dad did nothing but stare at me in condescending disbelief.
"Tabitha, I understand that you're upset, but I have nothing to do with-"
I fired another shot, this one perforating his shoulder with a sickening crunch. Dad yelped in pain, his free hand shooting to the wound and grasping at it, gouts of blood pouring between his fingers.
"The next one's going in your head, daddy," I said, realizing then that I was crying too, "I'll give you ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven..."
For the first time ever, I saw true fear dawning on my father's face.
"Six, five, four..."
"Okay, Tabitha. Okay."
I stopped counting, and held the gun on my lap.
"I guess you out-foxed your old man. I'm proud of you, honey, even if you have gone crazy. I just want you to understand that everything I did, I did for the good of this family, for the good of the free world. I did it because I love you and your mother so much, and didn't want any of this to happen."
I continued to stare blankly at him while more blood soaked into the duvet.
"It's called Influenza-Invictus, or II. It's the bioweapon of the future: fast-acting, lethal, incredibly contagious. I oversaw its development in the eighties and watched the studies they performed on chimps, and by god, Tabby, the rate at which it worked was astonishing. It could devastate a group of insurgents in days, reduce a terrorist organization to a nest of dead plague rats. There were isolated clinical trials on humans, which I oversaw and sponsored personally with military capital, and the effects were equally potent."
Dad's attention drifted from his growing laundry list of atrocities to the quantity of blood he was losing, as panic began to set in.
"Tabby, we need to call an ambulance, daddy is in real trouble here and-"
"We're not done yet."
Dad opened his mouth to appeal to my better nature, but quickly realized that there was no better nature to appeal to. He gulped down his fear and carried on.
"I knew we needed more funding from the Department of Defense if we were ever going to deploy it internationally - none of the others saw its potential for good, its potential for peace. I was alone in soldiering its cause, so I...I thought up a study that would prove II's efficacy in a real-life situation. Its ability to spread, to collapse infrastructure, to kill en masse," he said that last part with a grim chuckle of realization, "And you know what, Tabby? It worked like a charm. It worked like a fucking charm. Walkerton was the perfect pilot study."
For a moment, I sat there in stunned silence, my shaking hands squeezing the grip of the revolver.
"Y-you killed all of them...you murdered all my friends, you made mom hang herself, and you put all our lives at risk just to test your stupid fucking weapon, so you could kill more people with it abroad. You slaughtered all these innocent people for a fucking experiment."
"We were never at risk, Tabby," he choked out, rushing to defend himself, "I had the vaccine administered before the virus was ever deployed. We were safe as houses. What happened to your mother was just a tragic mistake on her part. A terrible, terrible tragedy."
"And the rest weren't? Are you listening to yourself, you fucking monster? You're a sociopath! You killed these people to further your own stupid goals, and you don't give a shit about any of them!"
"I did it for you, Tabby! And for all the innocent people the world over! II can be an indispensable tool for peace and prosperity now that I've got this example to support it! We can use it to protect the good people of America and the world from any evil it encounters."
My body was practically convulsing with rage. I held up the revolver, and drew a bead on my father as he lay bleeding and begging in bed.
"You want to talk about evil, dad? The way I see it, the only evil this world needs protecting from is people like you."
"You're too young to comprehend my reasoning, Tabby. It was such a small sacrifice, in the grand scheme of things."
"But it wasn't your sacrifice to make!"
Perhaps it was madness, perhaps it was desperation and blood loss, but dad just started laughing. A dry, wheezing, pitiful laugh, like a hyena with punctured lungs.
"Some day, Tabby. Some day you'll understand why I did this. You'll understand why the lives of the people in this tiny, insignificant fucking town were worth nothing compared to the bigger picture."
"They were my friends, dad. They were our neighbors."
"They were externalities, Tabby. They were collateral damage. I can believe you'd value the lives of these people, people who you've barely known, over the life of your own fa-"
I fired the gun four times, screaming while I did it, every round ripping through my father's bare chest and smashing into the headboard. He jolted back like a crash test dummy, a look of utter shock plastered onto his face, before hitting the wall and slumping forwards. A blanket of dark crimson was spread out over his lap.
For all his big talk and grandiose claims, Col. Calvin Richardson, my father, The Scarecrow, was dead within the minute.
The rest played out almost like a dream. I called the police myself, it seemed like the courteous thing to do.
"Hello, I'd like to report a homicide. It's Tabitha Richardson, 18 Bergen Street, I just shot my father dead in his bedroom."
It was a blur of shocked faces and flashing lights, but I don't regret that part. If given the chance, I think I'd have shot him again for good luck, or maybe just to watch his body twitch. Not that reason ever really mattered.
20 years was quite a light sentence for what I'd done, but I could thank my lawyer for that. The girl who was driven to temporary insanity by her mother's death, and the death of all of her friends, killed her father in a botched murder-suicide attempt. My dad died an honorable man with a murderous daughter, the only one of the Walkerton deaths to ever reach beyond the borders of the town.
I'm not sure Walkerton even exists anymore. It's like those towns and villages in Europe that were just wiped off the map by the plague. Only husks left over.
The murder was cathartic, but who knows if it ever made any tangible difference to the grand scheme of things. Perhaps someone else came and picked up the Influenza-Invictus mantel, perhaps research is going on right now, producing newer, deadlier strains in some secret lab under miles of desert. All of that hardly matters to me now, I've realized my relative insignificance too, just like daddy told me to.
The handy "crime of passion" defense was probably the only reason none of dad's friends in high places didn't have me murdered in prison.
No, the only reason I'm telling this story, no matter what happens to me, is that I don't want the memory of the innocent people my father murdered to fade from the history books. They deserved so much better than what happened to them.
For Bobby, Susan, Richie, and my mom.
For everyone who lived and died in that little mountain town.
The truth is, the devil really did come to Walkerton - and I should know, he was my dad.
X
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