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tossawary · 19 days

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"Fullmetal Alchemist"'s use of fantasy elements is interesting to me because of the way it... reduces... certain horrors to these unflinchingly direct basics. (Warning for spoilers and unorganized overview discussion of canon-typical violence.)

Like, the violence and pain is depicted in hideous, nightmarish detail, and/but the pursuit of power at the expense of other people's lives is simplified at the climax into an equation so straightforward that it hurts. All previous prizes of land and resources, which are forms of power, have been stolen by the Amestris military by way of terrible, hateful bloodshed. Father's Promised Day array then throws all that aside, throws it onto the fire, and takes a step further to directly exchange human lives for godlike power.

Another example is that Roy Mustang is not permitted the false distance of a bomb, but has the effect of one using his own two hands. The result is the same, but State Alchemists are not permitted separation from their tools: they ARE the weapons of war. A gun is nothing without someone to hold it. It really underlined to me that if Roy HAD used bombs instead of alchemy, it still would have been his hands that killed an unimaginable number of people.

I don't think FMA is above criticism, but this specific aspect felt to me an incredibly effective narrative tool, especially because things like "our military was created from the beginning to do evil" are accompanied by / backed up by normal humans knowingly going along with Father's plans out of greed and fear, as well as normal humans supporting the country's crimes out of idealism and fear and hatred and selfishness and confusion. It's not just "oh, it was inhuman monsters secretly manipulating everything from the shadows all along"; it's "oh, it was inhuman monsters secretly manipulating everything, representative of humanity's most deadly sins, appealing to our most selfish desires and basic fears, and we all WENT ALONG with it".

From the very first chapters, all of the friendly adult characters were directly saying things like, "Edward, you shouldn't be a part of the military. It's corrupt. I have killed innocent people for nothing and it haunts me." In the final battle, inside the command building, the Armstrong siblings and their allies are straight-up fighting against mindless, starving, created soldiers that kill everything they come up against and stop for nothing. The fascist Amestris military, after years of violent, fabricated conquest and violent, inhumane research, is EATING ITSELF FROM THE INSIDE.

And, of course, the characters cannot use their magic system to escape reality: the Elric siblings cannot undo their mother's death. Life is so incredibly precious because some things cannot be undone. And grief and arrogance allowed to run rampant takes heavy tolls on Edward, Alphonse, and Izumi's bodies.

The only way to miss the messaging in FMA, to have the point go over your head, is to intentionally duck it, because the author is throwing it at your face like a brick. Repeatedly. There are so many bricks. It's not subtle. And I enjoyed it.

#tossawary fma #character death #violence #roy mustang #spoilers

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motownfiction · 2 years

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everybody wants to be special here

Even at her most reckless, Sadie remembered to leave a note. When Daniel saw it there on the kitchen counter, just before the kids went to bed, he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. He missed her, of course – he’s been missing her since Sam’s funeral. But he agrees. This is where she needs to go. She says she’ll be back soon. Soon. What a word.

Around 9:00 that night, Daniel asks Michael if he can hold down the fort for a little while. There’s something he has to take care of, and he doesn’t want the kids to have to come with him. Michael agrees, but he wants to know where his mother is. Daniel just hands him the note. As soon as Michael reads it, he understands. It’s what Mom needs.

He gets in the car and drives to the cemetery where Sam is buried. It doesn’t take him long to get to the headstone. By now, he knows the way. For the first two months after the accident, Rosemary asked to go to the cemetery everyday. Daniel obliged, but he still doesn’t really understand why. Maybe he wanted to feel like he was visiting Sam, too. That’s how he feels tonight.

When he sees the headstone, it breaks his heart. He wasn’t supposed to have this headstone. Not because he was never going to die, but because they were never supposed to take a morbid joke seriously. Daniel still remembers the way Sam sat behind that massive bowl of Cheetos when he was eighteen and sketched his tomb. They all begged him not to, but he did it, anyway. The thought burst in his head, and he needed to get it out. He was always trying to make destruction seem funny. But there was always a little too much sincerity – a little too much heart. When they had to order the headstone, they didn’t have another choice.

Sam Spade Doyle

March 4, 1967 - December 25, 2002

Someone’s gonna show up. Never fear.

Fucking asshole. Wanted to quote “Here Comes a Regular” on his tombstone. He was a musically pretentious fuck until the very end. Daniel laughs for a little while. He’s not sure how long it takes for his chuckles to become bitter sobs.

He realizes this is the first time he’s cried for Sam. At the hospital that day, he’d been too shocked to cry. As they planned the funeral, he was too focused on organizing things. He couldn’t be a wreck. That was Sadie’s job. Sam was his friend – his brother-in-law – but he was Sadie’s twin. No matter what, no matter how much Daniel loved him, he would never be close enough to cry. He would never take away from Sadie’s pain like that.

But Sadie’s not here tonight.

And so, Daniel cries.

He’s never been much of a crier. When he gets upset, he usually shifts into rationalization. When his father left, he blamed himself (for not being a good enough son, for not being tough enough, for not taking good enough care of his mother and Lola). When Sam died, he blamed himself (for cutting Charlie too much slack, for having kids and expecting them to get presents for Christmas, for hosting Christmas dinner at his house). He knows it doesn’t make sense. It’s just all he can do. So much of his life has been an open wound. He’s tired of stinging.

When he cries tonight, some of the stinging goes away.

He hears faint footsteps behind him and doesn’t think much of it. Lots of people visit cemeteries when it’s late, he figures. Lots of people like their privacy. He’ll ignore their weeping if they ignore his. Then, he hears it.

“Daniel?”

It’s a voice he hasn’t heard since the funeral, but time will never matter. He has this voice memorized. He turns around, and there she is: Steph Armstrong, hair piled on top of her head, in a big sweatshirt and shorts that don’t match. It’s the least fashionable she’s ever been, including all the years she wore a school uniform. Daniel laughs again.

“Hey,” he says, like it’s been no time at all. “What are you doing here?”

“Going for a stroll,” Steph says with a laugh. “What does it look like?”

Daniel chuckles a little and looks her up and down one more time. He’s not sure what to say, so he just says the first honest thing that comes to mind.

“It’s good to see you.”

Steph grins, and she looks just like she always did. Kind. Lovely. Beautiful.

“It’s good to see you, too,” she says.

She steps closer to him – but not too close. They’ve been careful about that for a long time now. When Daniel thinks about where he was on this day twenty years ago, he knows it has to have been with Steph. Twenty years ago, they were together as often as they could be – under blankets, under moonlight, underwater. He looks down at Sam’s headstone again. Now, they’re the ones who are up above.

“Where’s Sadie?” Steph asks.

Daniel sighs.

“Took a little trip East,” he says. “She’ll be back.”

Steph nods.

“Do you get out there often?” she asks.

“Not as often as we used to,” Daniel says. “Not as often as we’d like. You’d think it would be easier to travel now that the kids are a little older, but they’ve got all these commitments. Teams. Friends. School. I thought when we decided to send the kids to public school instead of St. Catherine’s, they’d be less busy. Turns out I was wrong. Do you know how many classes Michael’s got to choose from, just in junior high? Like fifty or something.”

Steph nods and looks up at the clear night sky.

“Would have been nice to take something other than ceramics and Bible,” she says.

Daniel laughs.

“Yeah,” he says. “No kidding. Michael’s taking a music appreciation class this year. Music appreciation! He’s taking it ‘cause he thinks Sam would have liked that.”

They exhale simultaneously and look down at the headstone again. Daniel wonders if it will ever stop feeling strange – that Sam is there and yet not at all. He lets a shiver run down his spine and fights more tears away. Not now. Not in front of Steph.

“I come here a lot more than I probably should,” Steph admits, scuffing her flip flop in the grass. “He wasn’t … we broke up almost eighteen years ago, but he never stopped … he never stopped being my one, you know?”

Daniel nods.

“I know,” he says. “Better than anybody.”

Steph gulps. She almost forgot about where she was twenty years ago. She reaches for Daniel’s hand, but he shoves it in his pocket. Not now.

“Sometimes, I just feel desperate to see him,” she says. “Like tonight. I was in the middle of making chicken fried rice, and then, out of nowhere, ‘Tiny Dancer’ came on the radio.”

“Not really out of nowhere,” Daniel jests. “It’s a very popular song.”

Steph laughs and shoves Daniel to the side, just like she did twenty years ago.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting it,” she says. “But there I was, frying up the egg in my kitchen, and I remembered the way Sam used to laugh at people for singing the chorus too soon. It was one of his favorite games. Do you remember that?”

“Oh, yeah,” Daniel says. “He always said he wasn’t a music snob, but he could be one if he wanted. And he was good at it.”

“The best. Anyway, I finished making the rice, popped it in the fridge, and drove over here. Sometimes, I forget how close it is to my place.”

She looks at her shoes again. Daniel thinks he knows what she’s thinking. They were only together for a couple of months twenty years ago (under blanks, under moonlight, underwater), but in that time, he got pretty good at reading Steph Armstrong.

“Sometimes, I forget how close you live to our place,” he says.

Steph looks up at him with sad eyes. He remembers what she told him on their senior class retreat back in ‘84: I don’t have any friends. He wonders if she still thinks it’s true – wonders if you can be somebody’s friend if you don’t see her or talk to her for years; probably never would have seen her again if her high school boyfriend hadn’t died. He doesn’t know, and it hurts to think about. He just stuffs his hands in his pockets instead.

“Yeah,” she says. “Well. Life goes on. And then it ends. And sometimes … sometimes, you just have to come and see Sam.”

They stare at the headstone for just a little while longer. There’s so much Daniel wants to say to her. That he’s sorry they lost touch. That he knows why they did. That he’s sorry Steph and Sam never found their way back to each other. He wants to say all of it, but he doesn’t want to overstep. He’s not sure how you talk to somebody like this – somebody who used to take up a corner of your life, whose stray hairs wound up in chapter four of your World History textbook, whose pizza order and landline you couldn’t forget if you tried. Somebody who lives in the same county she always did – the same county you always did – and is still gone.

Lucky for him, Steph was always smarter than she pretended to be.

“I really am glad you’re here,” she says, sweet as ever. “When I think about Sam, I always … I always think about you. And Sadie. And everybody. Mostly you.”

Daniel feels himself begin to blush (and regret it).

“Yeah,” he says. “I … I think about you a lot, too.”

It’s not a lie, either. Daniel knows Sadie was the only girl for him – the only woman he could have married, the only woman he could have loved for all his life. But Steph Armstrong. In another world, he could have loved her just the same.

Of course, he loved her in this world, too. Just differently.

Steph reaches for Daniel’s hand again. This time, he slides it out of his pocket and allows her to take it. He needs it, and so does she. They stay there, just like that, for a little while. Quiet. Just the sounds of bugs and cars rolling by on the street. Not much different than 1983.

Steph turns to look at Daniel first.

“I am always gonna love you,” she says. “You know that?”

To his own surprise, Daniel nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “And I’m always gonna be your friend.”

They’re silent again. Just hands, bugs, cars on the road, and Sam.

#drabble #ch: daniel deluca #ch: steph armstrong #year: 2003 #series: goodbye yellow brick road

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pizzatowerconfessions · 3 months

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I have a specific dumb, weird, and/or kinda mean thing I want to do to each pizza tower character (affectionately). My brain has given each character has their own personalized hell and it's kinda hilarious:

I want to throw Pizzaface like a frisbee

I want to tickle Peppino like the kitten in the "surprised kitten" video from 2009

I want to aggressively pat Gustavo's head like those gifs were the head pat is extremely fast

I want to shoot Mr. Stick out of a nerf gun.

I want to squeeze Pepperman like a stress ball in my hand

I want to play with the Vigilante like those slime toys

I want to either swing the Noise around by his ankles like Mario did to Bowser in SM64 or poke him aggressively

I want to stretch Fake Peppino like Stretch Armstrong and squish his face at the same time

I want to shake Noisette like a tambourine

I want to chomp off a corner of Pizzahead's pizza head.

Again, this is all affectionate even though more than half of it is downright violence... they're cartoons they can handle it, right?

For those who are wondering about my feelings on Brick and Snick I hold them gentle like burger because I sense they are powerful entities and I need to respect them. Same with Gerome, John Block and Snotty.

#pizza tower #pizza tower peppino #pizza tower gustavo #pizza tower pepperman #pizza tower vigilante #pizza tower fake peppino #pizza tower pizzaface #pizza tower pizzahead #pizza tower noise #pizza tower noisette #pizza tower brick #pizza tower mr stick #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower john pillar #pizza tower snotty #pizza tower snick

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stinkysmellyballs · 4 days

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when will you delete your account

Yeah!

Six-up, five-oh, pigs come, I cop 'n' go The blotter shows they got me on the rocks like Galapagos Good luck finding critters creepy as me They shoulda fried me, I'll give ya PTSD

Vodka shots droppin' down the throat that they been stompin' on Cockin' guns, lockin' up, the quotas all for shock 'n' awe Drivin's tirin', and I been hotwirin' To make my get away from the jailbreak riot and

Cellmates scrapin' upon the bricks in the basement Tryin' to escape this probation generation Too late, crazy fucker's gotta do the time Committed to the mental ward, committing all the crimes

I'm alive and kickin' 'til the split ends fray Maybe plead insane, guilty, but I'm not to blame I'm a slave to the main vein, sprayin' on the mainframe Suffering the infrastructure, hoping I can maintain

Oh, how I know, how I go, how I go Ask me a question, the answer I know Yes or no options don't weigh out, and so I don't ever see the cons and the pros

You bear a striking resemblance (Some kind of semblance of somethin' I been rememberin') You appear familiar, dear (You look just like my bathroom mirror)

Please, policeman, no heel-to-toe Oh please, let me go Please, policeman, is it a test? I won't know 'til I'm under arrest

The drunk-tank's blood red, junkie's gonna relapse Some think punk's dead, me, I don't believe that Rock 'n' roll gatherin' the moss 'til I be that Lichen-coated boulder, make you slip, bust your kneecap

Open on the Amazon, hide the cure for cancer I'm Lance Armstrong, you're the necromancer Slash 'n' burn, crash into the 42nd answer All my fellow skeletons adore the army ants here

Flies on my eyeballs, scabs on my elbows Heaven knows God's sittin' up there like, "Hell no!" Only one thing comes to those who wait It's never too late to embrace your fate

May death come swiftly and gently to you Mayhem, cry mayday, and oncoming doom Save your convictions, they never will do What you say's at least one six-billionth true!

You bear a striking resemblance (Some kind of semblance of somethin' I been rememberin') You appear familiar, dear (You look just like my bathroom mirror)

Please, policeman, no heel-to-toe Oh please, let me go Please, policeman, is it a test? I won't know 'til I'm under arrest

Am I being detained? Am I under arrest? (Yes, you are!) Read me my rights, please (No!) I want my phone call!

Please policeman, no heel-to-toe Oh please, let me go Please policeman, is it a test? I won't know 'til I'm (ratatatatatatata!)

Please, policeman, no heel-to-toe Oh please, let me go Please, policeman, is it a test? I won't know 'til I'm under arrest

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orcboxer · 5 months

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ok top 5 orcs to hug GO

OH SHIT Okay uhhh

5. Brick, my orcsona me, I'm perfect for orc hugs, all orcs of internet can hug Brick

4. Ghorbash the Iron Hand may only have 7 voice lines but he's my skyrim husband and the first thing he did was challenge me to a fistfight

3. Grimluk the Demon Hunter from the book series by Ashe Armstrong because who wouldn't want to hug a kindhearted cowboy who is also an orc

2. Orgrim Doomhammer I mean look at him

1. Garrosh Hellscream because he needs it and also it has the potential to have lethal consequences and thus be the funniest choice.

#orcspeak #only reason I avoided other internet orcs is cuz there are so many of you and i didn't want anyone to feel excluded lmao 💚#so i stuck with established fiction ones

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ecoamerica · 19 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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tchaikovskyed · 8 months

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Hi! I am an Arthurian prof and I saw your post about Malory Daily. I have a few suggestions on editions!

Most scholarship these days focuses on the Winchester Manuscript version of the Morte, whereas most popular modern English editions use the Caxton version as their source. Any public domain versions of the Morte will use Caxton. Winchester is considered closer to Malory's original text (but it's not The original), since Caxton (often heavily) edited the text to better serve his mercantile audience. For example, he makes heavy cuts to the Roman War as well as the Pentecostal Oath. If you're looking to include scholarship with each day's post, I recommend taking this into account, as most contemporary scholarship is going to focus primarily on Winchester!

With that in mind, I have a few recommended editions, although these are not in the public domain:

For Middle English (ME), PJC Field's edition through DS Brewer is the only (as in best) option. There's a paperback edition that costs ~$25 that is a BRICK but it is the best bang for your buck while also just straight up being the best version. There's also a hardcover set of the Morte and accompanying notes that is like $350 and is considered the scholarly standard, but the paperback edition is the exact same thing minus the notes. If you haven't read ME before, Malory is a great place to start because it is VERY LATE ME. He was writing in the century after Chaucer, and it's much easier to read than good ol Geoff. This is the version that most scholarship will be citing; the journal Arthuriana requires all Malory quotes to be from this version. Field in general is a great expert on all things Malory as well.

For modern English, I recommend the translation by Armstrong from Parlour Press. I believe it's also ~$25. Dorsey Armstrong is currently the editor of Arthuriana and she quite literally wrote the book on gender in the Morte. Her translation is really accessible and sticks extremely close to the ME. In my opinion, this is going to give you the closest experience to reading the ME without having to read the ME.

Future editions: at some point a translation from Whetter and Tolhurst is going to come out. K.S. Whetter is one of the big names working directly with the Winchester Manuscript (literally wrote the book on it too, studied under Field, etc) so this is bound to be a great version for anyone who wants an experience closest to the manuscript.

I hope this is helpful!

Thank you so much for this, it's been extremely helpful! I was going to make a short post about different editions but this has been 100% more coherent than anything I was going to write, and I will include all your notes in the blog's about page!

Unfortunately because I'm not too sure about copyright issues, it's easiest for the Substack to include a public domain version (more specifically the version on Project Gutenberg), with an accompanying post comparing the differences between this version and the Oxford World Classics Helen Cooper (which I'll make available online via a big ol' resources GDrive) and the Complete Works edited by Eugene Vinaver (which I have a physical copy of).

Seconded on the P.J.C Field edition which was my bible when I was writing my dissertation, although I've had a look online and it's close to impossible to access unless you are affiliated with a university in some way. I had no idea a new edition was in the works but that is really exciting!

#malorydaily #arthurian mythology #arthuriana #le morte d'arthur #medieval literature

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coming-of-rage-gifs · 3 days

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Debby Ryan as Patty Bladell in Netflix Insatiable

#coming of rage #patty bladell #debby ryan #insatiable #insatiable netflix #netflix orignal series #netflix original #netflix #pageant material #pageant queen #pageantry #beauty pageant #bob barnard #bob armstrong #brick armstrong #magnolia barnard #killer woman

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themandelafreak · 22 days

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Yeah! Six-up, five-oh, pigs 🐷🐷 come, 💦 I 👨 cop 'n' 😂 go 🏃 The 😈 blotter shows 📺 they 👥👉 got 🙏 me ⓜ on the rocks 🌰🏿 like 👍🔫 Galapagos Good 👌🚟 luck 🏼🍀 finding 🕵 critters creepy as 😐 me They shoulda fried 🈳👌 me, 💯 I'll 🗨 give ya 😩😫 PTSD Vodka shots 💥💥 droppin' down 👸 the throat 🏾🍆 that 💊 they been 💴👀 stompin' on 🔛🔛 Cockin' guns, 🔫 lockin' up, the quotas all ❤🏞 for 🔞😩 shock 😨😨 'n' 🅾 awe Drivin's tirin', and I 👁 been 🔥📹 hotwirin' To make my get 🍆🉐 away from 😂👉 the 💦 jailbreak 😞 riot 🆘 and 😱😏 Cellmates scrapin' upon 💰👦 the 🌜🏛 bricks 💵 in 🏢 the 💦 basement Tryin' to ✌ escape 🛫 this probation generation Too 😲 late, 🕐🤷 crazy 😵😜 fucker's 🍑➡ gotta 🍆 do ⚠👌 the time ⏰⏲ Committed to 🙏 the 😍🔊 mental ⚖⚖ ward, 💰 committing all the crimes I'm alive ♍ and 🔛👈 kickin' 'til the 🔵 split 🚻🚻 ends fray Maybe 😉🔥 plead insane, 🤓😵 guilty, but 🤔 I'm not to blame I'm a slave to the main vein, sprayin' on 🔛 the mainframe Suffering 😖 the 👏💯 infrastructure, 🛣🛣 hoping I 📧 can maintain Oh, ⭕😧 how 🗣🤔 I 👄 know, 😱💡 how 💯 I go, 😩👀 how I 💰👁 go 🚦♂ Ask 😩💬 me 🥒🏻 a question, the 👏 answer I 👀🔨 know 😦 Yes or 💰 no 😑❌ options don't 🚫 weigh out, and 👏☝ so 😲👅 I don't 🙈🚫 ever see the 📐 cons and 😂 the 👗😱 pros You 👉 bear 🐻 a striking resemblance (Some 🐺 kind 🙁 of semblance of somethin' I been 🤤 rememberin') You 👈 appear familiar, dear 📣📣 (You 👦💖 look 👀 just 💢💦 like 💟😄 my 🅱👌 bathroom 🚽 mirror) Please, 🙏 policeman, no 👐 heel-to-toe Oh please, 👏 let 🏾 me go ⏩ Please, 😭 policeman, 🏻👮 is 💡 it a test? 😬 I 🌈 won't know 🤓 'til 💏💏 I'm 👉 under arrest 🔒 The drunk-tank's blood 👀💉 red, 🅱 junkie's gonna 🤤🔥 relapse Some think 💭😠 punk's 😈😈 dead, 😠💀 me, I 😃☠ don't believe 💭🙏 that 🏻🔺 Rock 🚀🗿 'n' 💰💰 roll 🎸🎲 gatherin' the 💰 moss 'til 💏 I be ➡🐝 that Lichen-coated boulder, make you 💧 slip, 💦 bust your 👦 kneecap Open 📖👐 on 👇 the 🐈 Amazon, hide 💜💜 the 👏🐈 cure for 👏💪 cancer 💦 I'm Lance Armstrong, you're 👉🏼 the 😾✨ necromancer Slash 'n' 😩 burn, 🚥 crash 💥 into the 🏡👏 42nd answer All 😫 my ♂🙋 fellow skeletons 💀 adore 🚼🚼 the 🏅😊 army ants here 🏿🍒 Flies on 🔛👅 my eyeballs, scabs on 💯 my 🍕👨 elbows Heaven ✝ knows ❔ God's sittin' up 🗺🤢 there 👉💍 like, "Hell no!" Only 👁 one thing 🤑 comes 💦💦 to those 👈🐥 who wait It's 🤔🤔 never 🚫🚫 too 🤖 late to 💦 embrace 💦 your 🙋☁ fate May 📅💯 death come swiftly and 📎🌃 gently to you 👆🚶 Mayhem, cry 😭 mayday, and 💰 oncoming doom Save 📑💾 your ✋👏 convictions, they 😈 never ❤ will do 💕 What you 😩 say's 🔥🗣 at 💰 least one ☝👏 six-billionth true! You 🕴 bear 🐻🐻 a striking resemblance (Some kind 🤗😯 of 👄🍆 semblance of 🔥📀 somethin' I 👈👀 been 🙂 rememberin') You appear familiar, 💻👨 dear 🔆📣 (You look 🔚 just 👌 like ❤ my 👨 bathroom 😤🚽 mirror) Please, policeman, 👮 no heel-to-toe Oh 🍤 please, 🍆🙈 let 👌 me go 🏃🏃 Please, 🙏🙏 policeman, 👮 is it a 📐 test? 😬😬 I 👁 won't 💪 know 'til I'm under arrest 🔒 Am I 👏ℹ being 🔞 detained? Am I 😜 under arrest? 🔒 (Yes, 👞😻 you 🏻 are!) 😎 Read 📖 me 👶 my 👩 rights, please 🙏🙏 (No!) 💦⛔ I want 👉👏 my phone call! Please policeman, no heel-to-toe Oh 🐦😱 please, 💕✝ let 👍💂 me 💯❤ go Please policeman, 🏻🏻 is it 💯 a 👌 test? 💻😬 I 🤵🙅 won't 💪 know 'til 💏💏 I'm 👧 (ratatatatatatata!) Please, policeman, no 😩😑 heel-to-toe Oh please, 🙈 let ❌🏾 me 🤓 go Please, 😭 policeman, 👮 is it 🥇♂ a 👨👌 test? I won't know 😭 'til I'm 👁👁 under arrest 🔒

what is this madness (OLLIE I KNOW THIS IS YOU)

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