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zydrwte · 3 years

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🎧 AMERICAN IDIOT: THE MUSICAL ιllιlı inspired plots!

part one of three!

because i absolutely love this musical and i have so so so so much ideas around the songs, i hope you guys enjoy it! for aesthetic purposes, jesus will stand for muse a, whatsername will stand for muse b and maybe jimmy will stand for muse c. also, this got around 3000 (yes, i absolutely love this) words, so i’m spliting in three parts. let me know if you liked so i can post the other ones!

𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖔𝖙 ╱ it's summer, vacations. they're teenagers, they're pissed, they're angry. jesus is week-known for being a rebel, a protestant, an activist, purely aggressive. whatsername in other hand is the peace&love hippie. they've met in a manifestation to save the trees in a large park, this one bought by a large corporation that want to make a shopping mall. the manifestation goes violent because of jesus' kind people, and they got arrested. years late, he still dreams about whatsername, but now they're a politician and jesus is just an ex prisoner trying to get a job.

𝖏𝖊𝖘𝖚𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖚𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖇𝖎𝖆.

𝖏𝖊𝖘𝖚𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖚𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖇𝖎𝖆 ╱ this is a rebel modern bonnie & clyde history. why? because jesus and whatsername are the baddest couple at the ghetto. they want, they do it, they go for it. but shit happens, suddenly they wake up with a message in their door. someone want them dead and they need to run, fast. they don't know who, they don't know why, but they're both cowards that don't want do die.

𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖊𝖉 ╱ in small cities always have the "crazy one", the drunk, the insane. jesus is them, but they doesn't do drugs or shit like that. they believes they're lucid, saying things like the end of the world or crazy theories. work's colleagues always avoid them and their insane sayings, but whatsername doesn't. they're a journalist begging for a good history and jesus speaks without think.

𝖎 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 ╱ everyones loves a contemporary romeo & juliet, isn't it? whatsername and jesus are not the opposite, their families aren't rivals or anything. whatsername and jesus are sides of each other, one is just so angelic and one is so demonic. besides there's good in evil, evil in good, whatsername and jesus lives in different parts of the city, with rivals gangs. in the ghetto, they care for each other, and the leader of which gang don't want their protected with the rivals. but jesus and whatsername doesn't care, they doesn't care if the other don't. there isn't freedom in their lives and they want to run.

𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 ╱ in this tale, whatsername leaves a letter for their good love before going to a psychiatric ward. they love their first and bigger love, jimmy. but there in the hospital, they met someone who understand them, jesus. years late, jesus is still an internee, and whatsername gets the medical release. out there in the real world, everything is different and she discover that jimmy has never read their letter. in other hand, jesus has the letter. why? jesus and jimmy are twins and whatsername missed the right name. a dramatic mentally ill history for y'all mentally ill head. GO GET A THERAPY, BESTIE.

𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 ╱ why jesus is always so quiet? well, whatsername know they live with their parents, their grandpa is sick or something, but no one really knows jesus. one day, whatsername gets a weird message of someone disembosoming everything. suddenly, they become confidants, in the living place of both, jesus looks more healthy and extroverted. except whatsername who became really scared of their confidant's life. spoiler: jesus and whatsername are the confidants.

𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖉𝖆𝖞 ╱ this could be a post-apocalyptic or a modern one, we just know there is a war. the world looks on fire, everything is burning, everything is on the ground. for those who believe, this is the armageddon, god himself have punished this land. jesus is one who believe, while whatsername still fight for food against the government who let them die. they're a warrior and other is a religious. one day, the two are chosen to represent their country in an onu meeting. believing in different things, they need to get synchrony, their country have them and only them now.

𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 ╱ the feeling of being full fifed of friends around and still being lonely. the feeling of having no one to believe. the feeling of being just you in this giant world. jesus and whatsername knows this feeling, but god they're so different. because of a past problem, a misunderstanding, they're not friends any more. grown-up now, working in the same place, they need no get through it their problems. one day, the two found out they're both lonely besides the whole thing, this information gets them close again. the only problem is the two have the problem to put away anyone in their lives, that's why their both lonely.

𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖓 ╱ oh, jesus. the well-known child of the senator. they're perfect, good-looking, respected, extroverted, charismatic, but they're an asshole. fucking everyone thinking they're the hottest in the town. someday they meet whatsername, the well-know child of the most important journalist in the town. they're brilliant, smart, full of personality and beliefs, strong. they just don't give a fuck about names and positions, but they don't like jesus. they hate them, they hate them so much, even that jesus thinks that hot. what's more pleasant than a person who doesn't like when everyone must do?

𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 ╱ jesus and whatsername lives in different cities, countries or whatever. this story is about a friendship in the past, who creates the most important project of their lives. their parents, while they were child, dreamed about freedom. dreamed about a better world and, some day, they gave up because the world is brutal. jesus and whatsername find that and search for each other. they're the hope of their parents, who died disbelieved. who died without hope. and this relationship starts in dreams and ends with love. the next step is to maintain the force to make the plan real.

𝖘𝖙. 𝖏𝖎𝖒𝖒𝖞 ╱ oh jesus, such a lost child. the entire underworld of the city knows their name. the suicidal, with no fear, the animal, the wild jesus. they don't have any love for their life, so they do it whatever they want to. whatsername, otherwise, has an important job and needs to write a character who doesn't love their life, a purely suicidal, a maniac. coincidence, no? whatsername hear the name of the street maniac and follow them for discovering their entire personality. like a scientist who loves their project, whatsername falls in love with the character they've written. but the character is jesus, so she's in love with a suicidal? whatsername in love with the street maniac?

#͓ ⋆ 🎧 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬 ιllιlı wanted plots.#͓ ⋆ 🎧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗘 ιllιlı mine.#plot bunnies #tw long post #sorry if the english is messy i am purely dumb

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

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Victorian Flash

A weird AU.

Location: 1860s London

Flash #1: Jason Garrick, age 70. Born in the 1790s, has been operating as the Flash since the 1810s. (Queen Victoria took the throne in 1837, and he also lived during the reigns of William IV, George IV, and George III.) In his civilian life, he works as a scientist and as a university professor. Married to Joan Garrick (neé Williams).

Flash #2: Bartholomew Allen, age 40. Born in the 1820s, became the Flash in the mid-1840s. Married to Iris Allen (neé West), a (in this time period rare) female journalist. Member of the City of London Police. Iris works for The London Gazette.

Flash #3: Wallace West, age 25. Born in the mid-1830s. Became Kid Flash at 10 years of age. Nephew to Bartholomew and Iris; works a variety of odd jobs. Married to Linda West (neé Park), a young Korean woman he met while traveling the world (with super speed). The two have twins, Jason and Iris West (both age 5).

Captain Cold: Leonard Snart, age 38. Born in the 1820s in Southwark, the son of a (frequently drunken) tinker, became Captain Cold in the mid-1840s after a freak accident led to his pistol gaining the ability to shoot out beams of intense cold. Already a thief, the Captain used this power to seek greater riches….leading him into conflict with the second Flash. Cold is also the de facto leader of the Rogues, who operate out of Seven Dials.

Golden Glider: Elizabeth Snart, age 33. Younger sister of Leonard Snart (Captain Cold); born in the early 1830s in Southwark. Elizabeth worked for a number of years as a dressmaker, but her true passion was ice skating...and through this hobby she met the love of her life, Roscoe Dillon, Esq (better known as the Top), whom she followed into a life of crime as one of London’s most notorious female criminals at the age of 26.

The Top: Roscoe Dillon, Esq, age 36. Born in the mid-1820s, the only son of a shrewd businessman who started up his own factory, making himself thousands of dollars. Highly intelligent (an Oxford graduate), Dillon nevertheless chose to go into a life of crime in the late 1840s (for what reason, no one was quite sure), putting his not inconsiderable talents as an inventor to use in order to do so. He subsequently fell in love with Elizabeth Snart, the younger sister of his ally Captain Cold, at the age of 28, and the two claim to be engaged.

Mirror Master I: Samuel Joseph Scudder, age 36. Born in the mid-1820s to a poor widow who worked as a laundress in the Whitechapel District. By the time he was eleven, Samuel had turned to crime in an attempt to support her, and, by the time she was killed by cholera on his sixteenth birthday, he was entrenched in London’s underworld. However, what made Samuel unusual was his remarkable scientific aptitude-something that allowed him to utilize mirrors in ways undreamed of by the educational and scientific communities, and also allowed him to help form the so-called “Rogues” of London’s Seven Dials. Samuel is also quite fond of smoking cigars.

Weather Wizard: Mark Mardon, age 37. Son of a tutor and a former governess; younger brother of Clyde Mardon, a famous scientist who was making groundbreaking work in the field of meteorology. Unlike his sibling, Mark was something of a wastrel, prone to gambling, drinking, and hanging around with unsavory people. His life probably would have gone by without him doing anything of importance had he not stumbled into his brother’s lab while fleeing his creditors. His brother had died of heart failure, but he had left behind a most remarkable invention-a wand that could control the weather. Mark decided to use the wand as a way to pay off his debts...by becoming yet another of London’s “Rogues”.

Trickster: James Jesse (probably an alias), age unknown (but likely in his early thirties). James Jesse arrived in London with a traveling circus in the 1840s….and promptly took up a career of pestering the city’s greatest hero, the Flash, seemingly because it amused him. Not much else is known about him; though he is an expert thief and con man. He also invented shoes that use the power of steam to let him walk on air.

Heat Wave: Michael Rory, age 42. Born to rural farmers in the late 1810s; moved to London at age 15 after the family farm burned down under mysterious circumstances. Worked for a number of years as a baker before his bakery burned down (also under mysterious circumstances) and he disappeared. He resurfaced a few years later, working with the Rogues and armed with an incredible gun that shot flames.

Captain Boomerang: George Harkness, age 37. Born in Australia in the 1820s; joined Her Majesty’s Navy as soon as he turned 18, where he managed to earn the rank of Captain. He arrived in London in the mid-1840s after being discharged from the Navy thanks to a leg injury that left him with a permanent limp. This limp did not, however, prevent him from making the decision to embark on a life of crime. Thanks to his use of the boomerang-a weapon whose use he had learned from the native people of the island on which he had been born-the papers gave him the moniker of “Captain Boomerang”, and he eventually joined the Rogues of Seven Dials. He has a noticeable accent.

Mirror Master II: Evan McCulloch, age 26. A native of Glasgow, Scotland, where he was born in the mid-1830s. Abandoned as an infant, McCulloch was taken in by a Mrs. McCulloch, who raised him until her death from scarlet fever. Orphaned again at the age of 16, Evan turned to a life of crime. When his crimes in Glasgow garnered too much attention, he fled to London, where he stumbled upon some of the technology that the original Mirror Master, Samuel Scudder, had abandoned. Quickly mastering its use, he was soon dubbed the second Mirror Master by the press and the police...something which brought him into conflict with the original. However, Captain Cold thought that the newcomer had potential, and invited him to join the Seven Dials’ Rogues-much to the frustration of Samuel Scudder. Has a noticeable Scottish accent.

The Pied Piper: Sir Hartley Rathaway, son of Osgood Rathaway, an Earl, and Rachel Rathaway, his wife. 29 years old. Born into extreme wealth, Hartley Rathaway was cut off from his fortune and thrown out of his parent’s estate at the age of 18 when he told them that, when he came of age, he planned to give away most of his money to London’s poor. While wandering through the slums of London (after being mugged twice), he stumbled upon a mysterious flute...one that enabled him to control the actions of those around him. He used the flute to steal money from his parents and then proceeded to give the money to the poor. He soon became famous as a Robin Hood figure, and his fame eventually led him to become a member of the Rogues...none of whom know he is still technically in line to become an Earl.

Axel Walker: Age 15; a native of the Seven Dials. A street urchin with sticky fingers; Axel idolizes the Trickster and wants to follow in his footsteps. Most of the Rogues find him annoying; just useful enough to bother keeping him around. His mother is alive, but is always working and seems unable to control her son, and his father is a complete mystery.

If any British people want to correct me on my geography, I would appreciate the help.

#flash rogues #dc comics #fanfic #weird #@gorogues

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dcnatural · 4 years

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Getway Car

Word Count: 1446

Pairing: Reader x Joker

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: You and the Joker escape Batman, and you make a hard choice.

“Faster! Faster!”, the Joker screamed, his voice barely hearable above the loud noises of the machine gun.

You hit the accelerator, bringing the car to full speed. The city lights became a blur as you drove faster and faster into the night. Behind you, the Batmobile, as well as many police cruisers, followed suit.

Your heart beat loudly in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body as you maneuvered just in time to avoid hitting a bus. Your partner in crime continued firing, and by the rear-view mirror you watched as the cars crashed one by one: some because of flat tires and others because their drivers fell dead. Either way, soon they were all gone, leaving only the Bat chasing you.

The Batmobile was seemingly bulletproof, and no matter how many times the Joker shot it, the bullets fell harmlessly to the pavement. “Hand grenade”, the Joker yelled, and you quickly reached into the passenger's seat where the weapons bag rested. Grabbing one of the pineapple shaped bombs, you threw it to him, who removed the ring and sent it flying into a water tower on the side of the road, causing the structure to collapse, flooding the street and, most importantly, blocking the way with it’s massive pillars.

The Joker laughed maniacally, jumping over to the seat beside you and throwing the bag on the floor. “Now, that should take care of Batsy for a while”, he chuckled. His laugh was contagiating and you couldn't help but grin.

“Where to?”, you asked as you stopped the vehicle, waiting for your next orders.

He raised a gloved hand to tuck a loose lock behind your ear, the soft material caressing your skin in the process. “Home, darling.”

* * *

You still remembered the night you first met the Joker as clearly as if it had been just yesterday. You had attended a black tie party, exactly the type of event you hated, but in which your boyfriend, Roman Sionis, just loved to parade you around, like you were the newest shiny prize in his collection. You put up with it, smiling and playing the part of the lovingly girlfriend, just like you put up with his abuse and his lies. You didn't have much choice, even though you didn't love Roman, you couldn't leave, not when he owned half of Gotham's underworld. Leaving him would be a death sentence.

You had been playing with the diamonds in your bracelet when he caught your eyes: a mess of disheveled green hair, pale skin and purple fabric. He stood out in the gray crowd and you found yourself staring at him with increasingly curiosity. And then you froze. For as you watched him carefully, he turned his face, his bright green eyes locking with yours for a second, before trailing down your body. Then, he smiled and made his way towards you. His presence was enough to scare away whoever it was you had been talking to.

Meeting the Joker was the push you needed to finally leave Sionis for good.

* * *

You parked the car in front of the current hideout, an abandoned toy factory. The Joker whistled blissfully by your side, creating a melody that was terrifying and wonderful at the same time. Just like him, you thought. The factory door opened, and three henchman came hurrying to help carry the stolen goods. You let them do the job, turning your back to the car and entering the building. Even with the furniture you had brought in, it still didn't feel like an inhabited place. The air was damp, dust covered the floor and the windows were so stained almost no light passed through.

"Wasn't that one hell of a night?", the Joker asked, passing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. Your whole body went stiff with his touch. Lately, every time he approached you, you felt like running away. His hand slid down your back, fingers playing casually with the waistband of your jeans.

“Not today, J”, you told him, shaking your head and twisting out of his hold. “I’m tired.”

He sneered, lips curling in a weird fashion. “Always a party pooper.”

You sighed. “J…”

He weaved his hand, cutting you off. “It’s fine. Go sleep or whatever. I’ll fend for myself.”

You rolled your eyes, hating that he always made a big deal out of nothing. His drama was very tiring. Leaving him in the makeshift living room, you climbed the narrow staircase and made your way to the small space in which you slept. What once had been a control room, now had been converted into a bedroom: the wide windows were covered with purple curtains, the desk and shelves stored clothes and other personal items and, on the floor, laid a double mattress.

You kicked out your shoes and, not bothering to change clothes, slid under the sheets. The factory was always chilly at night, but this night, it seemed to even more so. You curled yourself into a ball, knees to your chest, chin resting on top of them. You could hear the faint murmuring of the television and the Joker’s laugh coming from down stairs, He’s probably watching one of his stupid old comedy shows. You closed your eyes and tried to ignore the noise, focusing instead on how tired you were. It seemed it took you hours to fall asleep, but when you finally did, you were rewarded with a dreamless night.

* * *

The night you ran away with the Joker was the most exciting one of your life. You felt free, as if you had escaped from a prison. Except that the Joker didn’t care about anything, and you soon realized you had got out of the frying pan and into the fire. You drowned the disappointment of this new life in whiskey and vodka.

But Roman didn’t take the break-up easily, and, feeling like you had been stolen from him, soon was chasing after you. During the months that followed, there was a waging war between Sionis and the Joker, with hundreds of innocents dying from the cross-fire. And while it would have been much simpler to just hand you back to Roman, the Joker protected you. And you began to think there was something in him after all, maybe you hadn’t been mistaken. Perhaps there was a chance of a better life by his side. The end of the war came only when the Joker shot Roman in the heart.

And then, just like Bonnie and Clyde, you and your new lover raided Gotham, killing and stealing, partying and drinking. Nothing could stand in your way, not the cops and not even Batman.

* * *

You woke up to an empty bed. Sunlight crept in through the cracks in the wall, making the metal floor glint. You quickly changed clothes and threw the old ones in the growing pile of dirty laundry.

Downstairs, the Joker slept soundly on the couch, the television still on, displaying an old cartoon. Empty beer cans littered the floor, and there was a large bloodstain on the carpet. You avoided looking at it as you walked towards the kitchen, where you prepared a cup of coffee for yourself. You jumped back as a mouse squeaked and ran past you and into a hole in the cabinet.

You looked around the decrepit place, and couldn’t help but think it was a perfect parallel with your relationship. It was a ruin of what it once had been. There was no saving. And if you stayed, you would go down with it.

Returning to the living room, you watched as the Joker chest rose and lowered with his breathing. Forgotten by his side, the large bag containing the profits of yesterday rested. Not far from it, the car keys laid on a table.

Taking one last gulp of the bitter coffee, you picked up the keys, leaving the empty mug on its place. Not making a noise, you crept near where he slept and collected the bag, which felt light on your hand. Since there was still space in it, you walked back upstairs and into the room in which the Joker hid his safe. You had seen him opening it so many times that you had memorized the combination. Typing the code, the door unlocked and you shoved as much money as you could into the bag.

You didn’t leave a note. He had to know this day was coming, you had met him running away from somebody else. He had to have seen it coming. You glanced at the factory one last time before speeding away. Not a tear fell from your eyes.

#joker x reader #joker/reader #joker #joker imagine #reader #dc

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leoswritingcorner · 4 years

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an oracle in olympus pt. 3

i’m sorry for how long this took, but i’m back at it again! shout out to @headcanonsfromanelfblossom for being my beta and all of you for inspiring me! <3 part 3 of ?

Olympus, the home of the gods. Mighty and grand, and in all its splendor!

...basically looked like something out of a vintage Aspen postcard. There was no plumes of clouds swirling over golden roads. Chariots and pegasus weren’t racing across the skyline. There wasn’t even a single Corinthian pillar in sight.

Lucky shoves her hands into the pockets of the 90’s print neon windbreaker Lucy lent to wear over her party dress from the night before. The wind is chilly, even for late Summer. She looks around, taking in the sight of the mountain ranges in the distance, and the closer rolling hills lined with pine trees. In the center of it all, a simple looking town laid there.

So far off from what she would draw of Olympus as a kid.

“Luce, just take Avernus Lake Boulevard, it’s the easiest way.” Jamie says, fishing her phone out of a glittery clutch bag.

Lucy shakes her head. “Alkyonian Lake Drive is what I used before, so I’ll use it again.” she argues. She swings the door of her Volkswagen open and looks to Lucky. “Ready?” She calls out. “We gotta hurry, traffic is a killer around the breakfast rush.”

Lucky looks away from the town with a pout. “Olympus is just like Aspen?” She asks a bit disheartened. “That’s another thing, why aren’t y’all in Greece?” She questions, climbing into the car.

In the front seat, Jamie buckles herself in. “We go back, like, now and then. But ever since mortals lost sight and belief in us,”she trails off and shrugs. “We just roam around, but Ran- er, Zeus took a real liking to Colorado so, we’ve been here for, like, the last hundred centuries.” She explains easily.

“Oh.” Lucky says nodding. “Looks like y’all like keepin’ it modern, too?”

Lucy starts up the car, pulling out of the driveway. “Well yeah. You’d expect us to just be in the Bronze Age forever?” She asks back. “We like a bit of modernism, too.”

A sheepish look crosses Lucky’s face. “I guess that makes sense.” She says quietly. Lucy chuckles, catching Lucky’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“But sometimes Zeus feels nostalgic and we’ll have a day or two when this place looks a bit more how it used to.” She adds.

It would have been a quiet ride into town if it hadn’t been for a Gary Newman song blaring on the speakers.

Lucy taps her fingers in beat to the song on the steering wheel. Jamie’s own fingers tap rapidly the screen of her phone. Lucky leans up slightly, catching a glance of the name of who she was texting ‘A❤️💖 💝💘💗💞💕💓😍’

Smiling slightly Lucky slumps back down. ‘A’, she had a slight idea who that might have been. Absently, her hand lifts up and her fingers brush the lines of the splotchy birthmark on her chest.

What if she really was some reincarnated oracle from Ancient Greece?

‘No.’ Lucky pushes away the thought. ‘No, I am not Tyche. I’m Lucky.’

For the briefest and scariest second, a sense of uncertainty fills her.

‘Aren’t I?’

“So.” Lucky speaks up to stop her thinking from going any further. “Y-Y’all have mentioned some guy named Clyde. Who is he?”

The song comes to an end and finally silence fills the car.

Lucy draws out a long “Uuuhhh…”

Jamie pats her friend’s shoulder a few times as if to reset her. “He was, like, a good friend of Tyche.”

“He was a really good friend of hers.” Lucy adds, her voice dipping a little at ‘really’.

Before Lucky could respond, Jamie claps her hands. “Oh, let’s stop at Tweek’s!” She suggests. “We need to, like, make change and I could go for, like, some pastries.”

Lucy nods, flipping on the turn signal. “Good idea.” She agrees. They pull into a small plaza that sits nestled in the shadow of a mountain. Lucky leans forward, peering from between Lucy and Jamie. She hadn’t even noticed they passed by the town and were nearing a mountain range, a more shadowy looking one of all of them. Lucky starts to feel a heaviness grow in the pit of her stomach as they cruise by various shops in the rundown plaza.

‘Grief Counseling by Penthos’ read one sign. Next to it, another sign read ‘Geras’ Old Age Vintage Shop’. Lucy pulls up to the end of the shops, passing into a drive through. ‘Tweek Bros Coffee’ was painted across the window, the word ‘Curae’s’ had clearly been scraped off.

Rolling down the window, Lucy leans out as a static voice yelps from the drive thru.

“Gah! H-How can I help you?”

Lucy lifts her sunglasses. “Hey, Tweek. Give me and Jams our usual, please.” She orders. Turning to Lucky, she asks. “Want anything?”

“Uh.” Lucky blinks. “N-No. I think I’m okay. Don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

Lucy shrugs, calling back out. “And that’ll be it.”

“Y-Your total is f-five dollars. Aw, jeez!” The voice exclaims. Lucy zooms around the corner and plucks the ten dollar bill Jamie hands to her. At the window, a young man with wild blonde hair stands twitching and trembling.

“How’s it going, Tweek?” Lucy asks politely, taking the cups of beverage and bag. Tweek shakes, looking over his shoulder.

“Awful!” He cries. His head twitches and his eyes shut tight. “Pete!” He points to one of the shops in the plaza. “He’s going to kill me and take my shop, I just know it!” The girl follow his finger to look to the store front simply marked ‘Phobos’ where a sullen young man with dark hair stood, staring right at them.

Unblinking. Unmoving.

All three grimace and look away.

“I’ll try and talk to him.” Lucy offers. “We’re gonna see Cherry, Tweekie. Can I get coins as my change?”

“Rrgh.” Tweek replies, taking the money. He fumbles with the register before dropping three silver coins into Lucy’s hands. “Here!”

“Thanks, Tweek.” Lucy says sweetly. She gives a wiggly-fingered wave and drives off. Lucky finally finds her voice.

“That...that was Curae? Anxiety?” She asks, her voice pitching slightly. Lucy sips at her drink.

“Mmhm. Not a lot of mortals know that.” Lucy nods, making a check shape in the air with her finger. “Another point for the reincarnated Oracle!”

Lucky scoffs. “I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Classical Studies, majoring in Greek Mythology. I’m also working on earning my PhD in the field as well. And!” She lifts her pointer finger. “I was just hired as a docent at the Denver Art Museum heading the Greek Mythos exhibit so…” She makes an exaggerated air check mark. “Point for Lucky Siddalee Day, girl who worked her ass off in college!”

Lucy and Jamie peer at each other.

‘Nerd’ Lucy mouths.

Lucky folds her arms over her chest, looking out the window as the mountain comes closer as the Volkswagen drives on. “But, um, those names back in that plaza.” She says hesitantly, pointing over her shoulder “Those...guys are the ones you’d kinda meet before…” Lucky trails off, unsure if she wants to even think of finishing the sentence she was about to speak.

The looming shadow of the mountain covers the car. Lucky looks out the window and feels her heart leap into her throat.

An immaculate sign made of white stone greets them. It’s black letters carved meticulously, into it, reading;

Welcome to Underworld Co.

A cool chill seems to settle over the Volkswagen as they drove further down into the cavern of the mountain. Any traces of the sun vanishes completely, and only the light of torches lit with flames guide them along. Rows and rows of cars occupy the parking spaces; cars ranging from decade to decade. Lucky swears she sees a Rolls-Royce 10 hp as they drive by.

Lucy turns the steering wheel left, then right, then left again. “Dick!” She exclaims when a wall comes up. Lucky blinks and rubs her eyes. Was that wall there before? Lucy shares a few choice swear words in modern English and ancient Greek as she throws the car into reverse.

Again, she turns left, then right...right one more time. Jamie shakes her head as another wall seems to magically appear. Lucky looks around. “What is all this?” She asks, ignoring Lucy’s agitated grumbling.

Jamie looks over her shoulder to her. “Parking garage. If Lucy, like, took, Avernus Lake Boulevard like I told her, we would’ve had valet parking.”

“Jamie.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “The last time I used valet, the harpies practically tore my car to shreds. And- aha!” Lucy veers the car to a sharp left into an empty spot. “See? Barely took us even twenty minutes.”

The three climb out of the Volkswagen and Lucky looks around the parking garage. It was a maze. Literally. The ramps shifted and turned, while walls appeared and vanished. A car zooms by them and screeches as the road turns and sends it crashing into a dead end. Lucy winces. “Hope they got insurance.” She comments lightly. The three avoid more cars speeding by and make their way to an elevator.

A wispy ghostly figure of a man is there to welcome them as the elevator doors slide open. Lucky yelps, covering her mouth. He turns his head and Lucky winces when she sees the gruesome way he met his end, with a long slash stretches across his throat. Lucky is sure her chest is pulsing visibly with each pound of her heart. Jamie easily catches her from tumbling off the curb.

“Going down?” The ghost asks politely. Lucy nods, as they step in. She passes a silver coin to the ghost who smiles. “Ah, going way down. Elevator Styx to Main Lobby!” It calls out, cranking a lever. The doors seal shut behind them, and Jamie grips onto the railings, bracing herself. Lucy does the same and looks to Lucky.

“Better hold on tight.” She warns.

Lucky isn’t sure what is more terrifying, the elevator plunging downward or the sound of the muzak cover of Lady by Styx blaring over the speakers. Either way, her screams echo the entire way down.

Lucky can barely appreciate the Corinthian columns she thought she would have seen earlier. She clings tightly to Lucy’s arm as they walk down the hallways of white marble walls accented with ebony and gold designs.

It was all so elegant, and yet, so cold.

“Oh, poor Lucky.” Jamie says, gently trying to push down the curls of Lucky’s hair that stuck up on end from the elevator ride. “It’s, like, taken me over, like, a thousand years to get used to that drop. Are you going to be alright?” She asks

Lucky nods. “J-Just waitin’ for my soul to catch up with my body.” She replies weakly.

A high pitched nasally voice speaks up as they step into the main lobby. “Welcome to the Underworld Co, what d’ya want?”

Lucky jumps, and looks up to catch sight of a harsh looking woman sitting at the front desk. Her hair seemed to slither, but not with snakes. Her skin was a pale grey and her hallowed eyes stare the three visitors down, as if they interrupted something very important.

“I said.” Comes her nasally voice again. “What. Do. You. Want.” She bites out, pointing her nail file at them with each word. “All My Demigods is on and you’re wasting my time!”

“Hey, Erinyes, um, One?” Lucy greets. The woman’s eyes seem to darken more. “Two.” Lucy corrects herself quickly. The woman relaxes a bit and goes back to filing her claws. “We need to see Cherry.”

Erinyes Two snorts. “Yeah? You and half of Olympus and the Mortal World. You’ll need tah schedule a meeting with the boss like everyone else.”

Lucy frowns slightly. “Listen, can you just tell her that Dionysus and Aphrodite are here to see her?”

At that Erinyes Two gasps over dramatically and puts a hand to her chest. “Oh, we have name-dropping gawds here! I’ll get right on that!” She nods. Lucy narrows her eyes as Erinyes Two smirks. “Sit down, wino-head. I’ll see if the boss can squeeze you in.”

Lucy takes one, two, and three breaths as Jamie guides her away from the front desk and to the waiting area. The chairs- actually, chaises were comfortable at least. Lucky sits down between Lucy and Jamie. Lucy sat nearly seething.

“I can’t stand dealing with Erinyes. Any of them.” She says, snatching up a magazine titled “Better Hearth and Home”. Across the room a wide screen flat TV showed the scene of a gorgon woman, slapping a Minotaur across the face.

Erinyes Two cackles. “He had that comin’” She says mainly to herself.

Lucky sits back. Lucy wasn’t kidding when she said that Olympus was keeping up with modern times, maybe even a bit more advanced. A wisp of another ghost floats down the hallway, a woman who appeared to be from another time and age, followed moments later by a man who looked like he stepped out of a 1950’s movie set. At the desk Erinyes Two sighs dreamily as he passes.

Lucky’s jaw drops slightly and she turns to Jamie. “Was that…?” She whispers in astonishment.

Jamie glances up from her phone and nods. “Yeah, that’s him.” She replies, there’s almost a hint of a sigh in her voice as well. “Who knew a ghost of a mortal would be such a star here in Olympus too?”

Another hour passes and Lucky begins to feel restless. There’s only so much daytime television that one can watch, in the Mortal world and Olympus. She feels like she’s read through all the magazines on the table; Demeter’s Fine Gardening, Chronos, Olympus Weekly. But Lucy and Jamie seem barely fazed by the dragging of time. That must’ve been one of the perks of being a goddess.

A loud banging of a door opening wide shakes the room. Erinyes Two jumps and stands at attention. “Good Afternoon, sir.” She greets politely. Any and all traces of the rudeness that she had greeted them with early disappeared entirely.

Lucky leans forward to see a man coming in. As wide as he was tall. He wore a black suit, designed with tiny floral prints of blood red roses, and twisting green stems. If one looked quick enough, hints of skulls could be caught between the prints of flowers. Was...was this Hades?

“Ooooh Koooore.” Lucy sing-songs teasingly, standing up.

At that, the man blisters and whips his head around towards them. There’s an angry color on his cheeks as his eyes narrow.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no freaking way.

Lucky giggles in disbelief, and covers her mouth to hide the sound. It’s too late, Persephone heard her.

“Who the hell are you?” He demands, storming over. Lucky stumbles, dropping her purse as she goes to stand up. Persephone is before her, practically towering above Lucky. There’s a light scent of flowers followed quickly by almost metallic smell. Lucky holds her breath and peers up at him.

Persephone pauses, his eyes widening slightly before his steely glare returns. “I said who the hell are you? Speak up, mortal!” He snaps- literally snapping his fingers with each word.

“Oh come off it, Kore.” Lucy cuts in, gently tugging Lucky away from his imposing figure. “Where’s Cherry?”

Persephone grunts in frustration. “Stop callin’ me that, you dumb drunk. Did you come here just to bother me?”

“Dear.” Comes a new voice. Soft and light. It’s spoken in a tone almost above a whisper, but it carries so well across the marble walls. At the voice, Persephone’s anger melts away, replaced with a charming smile and light in his eyes.

“Darling.” He calls back. “Your friends came to visit, seems they brought us another stray.” He shoots them a secret look, just before a woman comes around the corner.

Lucky stares in awe of the god of the underworld. Hades.

The very picture of elegance in a black dress of lace and satin, designed to match her lover’s; twisting patterns of vines and skulls. The red curls of her hair twisted carefully into a pilat crown.

Her gaze is slow, careful, and observant as she looks over Lucky. In that moment, Lucky isn’t sure if she should bow or curtsy. Or faint. That’s what she really felt like doing.

“Cherry.” Lucy greets, smiling. She’s standing by Lucky now, hanging an arm over her shoulders. “This is our new friend. We need your help.”

Persephone makes an agitated grunt. “You know we don’t spare mortal souls.”

“Eric.” Cherry says. So that was his name. Lucky thinks it suits him a bit more than Persephone. However, Persephone did have it’s darker meaning. Cherry gives her husband a gentle smile. “You are right. We do not spare souls so easily, however, she is not dead.” Her eyes look to Lucky again.

Lucky smiles weakly. “Well, guess ya wouldn’t be the ruler of the underworld if ya didn’t know that.” She jokes, hoping to ease the growing tension. Eric seems to bristle again.

Cherry doesn’t laugh, but her smile doesn’t falter either. “What is your name?” She asks.

“It’s…” Lucky begins. Her tongue nearly betrays her when she feels the letter T forming on her lips. “Lucky.” She says quickly. “It’s Lucky. That’s my name.”

At that, Cherry lifts her eyes to Lucy and Jamie. Lucky doesn’t see the way the two goddesses nod.

Jamie speaks up. “Cherry, do you think, like there may be a chance, like, she could be…”

Cherry turns her stunned gaze back to Lucky. “Tyche.” She says in a whisper.

Eric’s eyes grow wide. His body seems to freeze on the spot. He barely hears the way Cherry asks the three visitors to follow her to the Archive Room. He watches the short brunette follow after them. It could not be her. He regains feeling in his body and finally his brain begins to think again, saying the first thought that came to him.

“Oh, shit.”

The Archive Room is not unlike any other office space. Save for the floor to ceiling filing cabinets, long ladders and winged monsters soaring back and forth.

Lucky sits across from Cherry, watching as the goddess takes a box from one of the monsters, nodding her thanks. “I apologize for the mess.” Cherry says. “We are beginning to go...digital.” She finishes with a sigh.

Eric is not too far, drinking a large cup of mead. “It’s going to really help us be more organized and keep track of all these souls and more.” He points out. “It was my idea.” He adds grinning.

Lucy snorts. “Humble as always.”

Eric shows her a view of one of his fingers in a quick motion.

“These are the T files. Tyche’s name should be here.” Cherry’s fingers barely seem like they even graze the tips of the file tops. Lucky glances to Jamie and Lucy nervously. They smile back to her, and Jamie takes her hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry.” Jamie assures her.

Lucky watches as Cherry wordlessly scans the file from top to bottom. Her eyes moving in a swift but steady motion. Eric downs his mead and swallows loudly, watching the scene closely.

Cherry inhales sharply, her movements coming to a halt. “I do not...understand.” Cherry says. “Tyche is not listed here.”

“What?” Lucy, Lucky and Jamie all blurt out at once.

Eric is quick, he comes to Cherry’s side and takes the file box in his arms. “We’re in the process of going digital remember?” He points out. “Maybe her file was just taken out of order.”

Lucy doesn’t seem to accept the answer. “She has a mark. The one mortals carry if their souls return.”

Cherry opens her mouth, but Eric is the one to reply. “That rarely ever happens. Even then it takes a mortal nearly thousands of centuries of penance.” He explains quickly. “Your friend is...just some coincidence.”

“Yeah, I think we came here to talk with Cherry.” Lucy growls. “You know, the actual ruler here?”

Eric’s face goes red. “What makes you so sure about her anyway?!”

Lucky shoves away from the table, and stands. All eyes turn to her as she snatches the windbreaker up, “If no one has answers. I want to go home. Oracle or not.” She says. With a swift turn, she storms out of the room.

Jamie and Lucy begin to follow before Cherry lifts her hand to stop them. Wordlessly, she follows after Lucky.

Lucky leans against the wall, her head tilted back. Her eyes trace the patterns of gold traced through the marble. She counts to ten and closes her eyes. Still a strong unease racks her body.

What and why the hell was this happening to her?

This week began so, well, normally. Now all of a sudden…

“Dear, will you be alright?”

Lucky gasps and opens her eyes. Cherry is standing beside her. There’s a concerned look on her face. “I am sorry about everything that happened back there.” She continues. “I can only imagine how overwhelmed you may be feeling.”

Lucky grunts. “I am beyond overwhelmed.” She mumbles, crossing her arms. “Nothin’ is makin’ sense anymore. In the span of nearly 24 hours, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a bad dream I can’t wake up from. Suddenly, I can’t stop...doubting who I am.”

Cherry listens carefully. “You are having doubts. Do you feel less like yourself?”

“Ever since I heard Tyche.” Lucky sighs. “Tyche...Tyche. Lucky…” She pushes a hand to her head. “I can’t be some ancient oracle. It’s just ain’t possible.”

“Yet, you are here. The Underworld, Olympus…” Cherry says, motioning around. “Lucy says you are clear of drunkenness.”

Lucky laughs dryly. “My stars how I wish I was.” She rubs her arms and looks around the hallway before looking back to Cherry. “Do ya think I’m...I could be her?”

“It is possible. Yet, I would not understand how. Eric may be...severe. But he is correct. The way souls can return is quite rare.” Cherry explains. “However, something does present itself as odd.”

Right, the whole issue of Tyche’s name being missing. Maybe her file was replaced or lost in the transition. Lucky hums and closes her eyes.

“There is a way.” Cherry speaks up. “If you truly wish to find out if you are Tyche or not.”

Lucky looks to her again. “How?” She asks.

“Drink from the River Mnemosyne.” Cherry replies.

Lucky breathes in. Of course the River Mnemosyne could help. If she was Tyche, her memories would come back. She’d…

She’d no longer be Lucky.

“No.” Lucky says quickly. “No, no. I can’t” She shakes her head.

Cherry nods in understanding. “I respect that. Yet, you should know...word spreads fast in Olympus. Oracle or not. Your presence here is known.”

Lucky pales as Cherry finishes her warning. She seems every bit of the goddess of the underworld as her eyes seem to darken and her voice sends trembles through Lucky’s very bones “Some gods and goddesses will be eager to know the truth, my dear. Take care.”

Lucky breathes in the scent of her apartment. Cinnamon and worn books.

It’s so comforting.

Jamie thinks so as she lounges across the couch. “I’ve never stayed a whole night in the mortal realm in, like, years!” She says happily. “Or been to a sleepover!”

Lucky rolls her eyes and presses the popcorn button on the microwave. “Let’s not make it a habit.” She says. Lucy opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of root beer.

“I can make this wine, you know.” She offers. Lucky goes green slightly at the memory of the night before. Lucy shakes her head. “I guess not. Hey…”

“Hm?” Lucky prompts, fishing in a cabinet for a bowl.

“I’m sorry.” Lucy apologizes. “I got a bit extra with Eric and the news. Also, kidnapping you to Olympus.” She adds sheepishly. Lucky turns to Lucy and smiles slightly.

“Thank you.” She says, coming up to Lucy. “Promise you’ll ask me next time? And...keep helping me find out the truth? Slowly.”

Lucy grins tugging Lucky into a tight hug. “Promise.” She says. Lucky laughs, pulling away as the popcorn finished. They all pile onto the couch with Jamie and start the movie. Back to the Future.

After a while. Lucy lifts her hand. A long slender blunt is balanced between her fingers. “So...we’re against getting drunk. But, what about high?”

Jamie and Lucky share a look.

“Oh, what the hell.” Lucky sighs with a shrug. “I may or may not be some reincarnated oracle.”

Lucy lights it up, smiling. “That’s the spirit.”

Lucky sits on the floor and at the TV, the credits rolling. Behind her on the couch, Lucy and Jamie lay deep in their sleep. Their high being slept away slowly. They miss the way Lucky’s green eyes cast a slight glow in the darkness.

“Alas.” Lucky speaks up, her voice distant, reaching across time. “How mistrust will lead to misfortune. A great shadow hovers over Olympus. Ruin and dust shall be the gods kingdom.”

The TV goes dark and Lucky slumps over.

#lucky day #lucy montgomery #jamie jameson #cherry hayes #an oracle in olympus

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hyperbolicpurple · 5 years

Text

transcript of every Weevil scene in S4

With timestamps!

Episode 3, “Keep Calm and Party On,” starting at 46:08:

Weevil: Yo, who’s cookin?

Hector: One of the new kids.

Weevil: No, Paul needs to be on the grill. ‘Cause this tastes like some peculiar-ass shit.

Juan Diego: Weevil! Your sister wants you to meet someone.

Weevil: Bring him over.

[Claudia and Alonzo come over]

Weevil: So you’re Alonzo. Glad you could make it. Heard a lot about you.

Claudia: Not a lot. Just--just a normal amount.

Weevil: Hey, uh, C, why don’t you put Paul on the grill for me? He likes you. Please? Thank you. [she departs] You up from Mexico on business?

Alonzo: Yeah.

Weevil: Look, your visit doesn’t have anything to do with the bombings, does it?

Alonzo: We didn’t set off any bombs, man. I promise you that.

Weevil: That wasn’t the question. But okay. Don’t break her heart, and we’ll be fine.

Episode 4, “Heads You Lose,” starting at 20:59:

[Veronica is being attacked by young PCHers in front of Weevil’s auto shop]

Weevil: Let go! Let her go, before she hurts you too. [Juan Diego doesn’t stop; Weevil fires a gun into the air] The next one goes in your bike. Hit the road, boys, you all got better things to do.

[They all ride off]

Veronica: Quite the mentoring program you’ve got here. How’s the straight life? You wouldn’t be chopping cars in here like your uncle did, would you?

Weevil: I think the words you’re looking for are “thank you.”

[interlude with Alonzo and Claudia]

Veronica: Muggings. Vandalism. Bombings. Regular Fagin now, huh?

Weevil: What did you say?

Veronica: Relax. It was a literary reference.

Weevil: Oh, I got the Oliver Twist shoutout. But did you say bombings? [laughs] Yeah. It was me behind the grassy knoll, too. [Weevil starts walking away]

Veronica: You, your boys--you’re doing grunt work for the people who want to destroy this town. Fine. Whatever. Sell out, then!

Weevil: You know, it must be nice to have choices, Veronica.

Episode 5, “Losing Streak,” starting at 20:05:

[in the Mars Investigations office]

Veronica: [on the phone] Yeah, I’m coming home now. Do you want me to pick something up for dinner? ... Like, really cooking, or opening cans of soup?

[knock on the door]

Veronica: [to the phone] Maybe you should handle dinner. ... Nope, a recidivist. Be back soon. [hangs up] Weevil?

Weevil: [sighs] What’s wrong with you, Veronica?

Veronica: You know, there are a range of opinions.

Weevil: You got a problem with me, deal with me.

Veronica: Whatchoo talkin’ bout, Weevil?

Weevil: Using a 19-year-old kid as a chip. Wow. That’s some gutter shit. Try remembering when you were cool.

Veronica: Hmm. Well, I mean, since you asked so nicely.

Weevil: Juan Diego’s brother? He took out two high-ranking Nuestra Familia street commanders. That kid shows up in the Cali prison system, they’re gonna put him in a box.

Veronica: Oh, that Juan Diego. The ice machine shitter. Well, maybe he should have considered that before he held a knife to my throat. But you know what? Bygones.

Weevil: [nods, looking relieved]

Veronica: Now if you’ll just fill me in on what’s causing the uptick in petty crime by the boardwalk, my heart will remain three sizes too big.

Weevil: [long exhale] No clue.

Veronica: Bullshit!

Weevil: You and me. We were close, once. If there’s anything left--

Veronica: There’s not. My dad went out on a limb for you. He and Cliff spent a year building your case against the Sheriff’s Department, and you settled behind their backs.

Weevil: I had a wife and a daughter to think about. I don’t live on Cherry Tree Lane, V! I needed the money! Does that make me a criminal?

Veronica: No. Being a criminal makes you a criminal. Which is why Jade split town, right? She didn’t want her kid raised by a--

Weevil: Stop there, Veronica.

[interrupted by Weevil’s cell phone ringing; he answers]

Weevil: [to the phone] Hector. Yeah. Go ahead. Are you sure? That’s great news. All right. Yeah. Bye. [hangs up]

Veronica: Great news, huh? Did you make the cover of Hoodlum Weekly?

Weevil: Cops can’t find the guy who filed the complaint against Juan Diego. He must have split town.

Veronica: So the charges are dropped. How about that? Turns out I’m not lowdown gutter trash.

Weevil: Jury’s out. [he leaves]

Episode 6, “Entering a World of Pain,” starting at 23:47:

[Weevil storms into the Mars Investigations offices]

Weevil: What’d you do with him, Veronica? Where is he?!

Veronica: Are you asking, “where in the world is cabron Juan Diego?”

Weevil: You’re not funny.

Veronica: Weren’t you worried about him going to prison and getting shot? He’s safe now. You’re welcome.

Weevil: He’s his family’s main earner. His mom’s been on my ass about lost income ever since he disappeared.

Veronica: She sounds like a lovely woman.

Weevil: We can’t all be like you. Practically perfect in every way.

Veronica: Sure you can. It’s easy. First, stop working on behalf of the richest asshole in Neptune in a plot to drive you and your people out of town. Sorry, does the truth hurt? You need a spoonful of sugar to make that medicine go down?

Weevil: I wake up every day trying to figure out a way to take care of my people. But you? You’ve got degrees from Stanford and Columbia that you don’t even use. You’d rather stay in this town that you say you hate, tasing teenagers and making them wet their pants.

Veronica: You had a wife and a daughter and a legit business, and you pissed it all away.

Weevil: I got shot, Veronica. Some rich white lady shot me, and I got arrested!

Veronica: Yeah. That was shitty. And I was there for you. And so was my dad, and so was Cliff. But you were weak. [Weevil turns away] Just go. Get out of here. Go be a low-level hood. But know this: that is how I’m gonna treat you. And when you are run out of town, don’t forget: I told you so.

Weevil: Okay, Veronica.

[Penn Epner comes in]

Penn: Is this a bad time...?

Weevil: Go ahead. She’s all yours.

later in episode 6, starting at 40:31:

[Weevil’s house with Claudia, Hector, and Weevil]

Claudia: Shit!

Weevil: What happened? Your Mexican boyfriend tell you he’s married?

Claudia: Why you two such pigs? Clean up after yourselves!

Weevil: [to Hector] You’d think I was living under her roof, huh?

Claudia: I got fired, asshole!

Weevil: What? You’ve been there for two years!

Claudia: He fired Estella too, and she’s been there a lot longer.

Weevil: Why?

Claudia: There’s no customers anymore. Not with all the bombings. Same thing all over town. No one’s hiring. Everyone’s letting people go.

Weevil: Okay, okay, don’t worry, listen. I’m making plenty of money right now. I can take care of the family, it’s gonna be okay.

Claudia: What about Estella?

Weevil: Estella ain’t family.

Claudia: Why don’t you hire me at your shop?

Weevil: No. No way. It’s like you said. Everything ain’t strictly legal. It’s not gonna work.

Claudia: I need the money, Eli.

Weevil: No. No.

Claudia: I’m too old to have you supporting me.

[knock on the door]

Weevil: Come in! Oh. Alonzo.

Hector: Yo, what’s up, man.

Weevil: Beer?

Alonzo: Yeah, sure.

Weevil: Claudia, two beers, please.

Claudia: Yeah, I saw Eli’s blonde crush at the motel today.

Weevil: The--wh--wh--what blonde crush?

Claudia: Veronica Mars.

Weevil: Oh, oh yeah, that’s--that’s my crush. Just love her to death. What was she doing at the Happy Nite?

Claudia: Pretty sure she was snooping around Alonzo’s room.

Alonzo: Who was in my room?

Claudia: Cute blonde private eye. You saw her at Weevil’s shop.

Alonzo: You sure? Or you pretty sure?

Claudia: I--I’m not sure. Some gimpy old bald guy collapsed nearby, and I was trying to help him, and--

Hector: Old bald guy with a limp?

Claudia: Yeah.

Hector: That was her dad. [to Alonzo, cackling] She was definitely in your room, man.

Claudia: [to Alonzo] What are you gonna do?

Alonzo: I’m gonna pay her a visit at some point. See what she wants.

[Weevil looks nervous]

Episode 7, “Gods of War,” starting at 31:03:

[Weevil and Clyde in the parking lot of Weevil’s shop, sitting in Clyde’s car]

Weevil: Are you kidding me with this car, man?

Clyde: ‘66. Mint condition. Original leather, original wood grain on the dash. Bought this from a little old lady who kept it covered in a garage. It’s got 23,000 miles on it.

Weevil: Beautiful. Hey, Clyde, you know anything about these two guys up from Mexico? They work for a cartel boss. He lost his nephew in the Sea Sprite bombing?

Clyde: No. But I don’t really have my finger on the pulse of the Mexican underworld.

Weevil: I thought you knew everyone who’s ever served time, Clyde. It could mean trouble for whoever’s responsible for that Sea Sprite bomb.

Clyde: I heard that was Perry Walsh, and that guy’s already blown himself up, so...

Weevil: Huh. I wonder what those two guys are still doing up here, then. [Clyde hands him an envelope of cash] Oh. Thanks. My guys have been on my ass all week about getting paid.

Clyde: Well, that’s the last of it, so, uh, you might want to remind them about rainy days.

Weevil: Job’s done?

Clyde: Yeah. Spring break’s over.

Weevil: Not for four days, it isn’t. Clyde, look, there’s gotta be more you need, right? I mean, I got a lot of people counting on this. On me.

Clyde: Good thing you’re an enterprising kind of guy. I’m sure you’ll find other ways to make money.

[Weevil nods, gets out of the car, goes inside the shop, where Claudia accosts him]

Claudia: This guy’s been blowing up your phone. Think he’s got tires for you or something. What’s wrong with you?

Weevil: Veronica Mars. The “I told you so” I’m gonna be hearing from her.

Claudia: Well, you don’t have to worry about her much longer.

Weevil: What’s that supposed to mean?

Claudia: Nothing. I’m just agreeing with you. She’s annoying.

Weevil: Claudia. Do not lie to me. Why am I not gonna have to worry about Veronica?

later in episode 7, starting at 36:20:

[Veronica and Keith are in a gunfight at Carol’s cabin with Alonzo and Dodie; the sound of motorcycles revving]

Dodie: The hell is that?

Weevil: Head on out, boys! No one’s touching her! Head home!

[Veronica creeps up to the front door with a knife as the motorbikes start rumbling away and opens it. Weevil’s outside with his visor up. They stare at each other for a long moment. Then Weevil pulls the visor down and drives away while Veronica watches.]

#veronica mars #vm spoilers #weever #eli navarro

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underworld-park-offical · 2 months

Note

How is Pip/Phillip rn ( I haven't read the whole entire comic. But if he's dead, i'm going to be sad)

GREGORY: Well, hate to be a debby downer….

GREGORY: Unfortunately, we’re all dead.

GREGORY: I even made a google slides presentation to show how every death happened!!!

GREGORY: If you would so kindly look,

GREGORY: So erm…

GREGORY: Yeah

GREGORY: I’m not really supposed to give you Thomas’ tragic backstory…

GREGORY: But he’s technically dead twice…

GREGORY: Sooooo….

GREGORY: Just don’t tell HIM…

GREGORY: Or Estella…

ESTELLA: What?

ESTELLA: Gregory! I need your assistance!

ESTELLA: Get off of the computer, please!

GREGORY: (Melodramatic sigh) GREGORY: Yes ma’am…

(Edits and Slideshow made by @pissblanket and @imlivinginyourtrashcan )

#craig tucker #craigfluencer #hellpark #south park #southpark #sp #underworld park #south park edits #underworld park tweek #underworld park clyde #underworld park kyle #underworld park damien #underworld park hype house #underworld park gregory #underworld park thomas #underworld park estella #team gregory cutie pie 3rd #gregory cutie pie vrs craig the real tucker #craig_the_real_tucker

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chiseler · 5 years

Text

W.R. BURNETT

William Riley Burnett isn't quite as well known as other crime writers like Hammett and Chandler, but the titles of several W. R. Burnett novels and films everybody knows. His career and his influence stretched from gangster novels and movies, which he went a long way to defining, through noir to blaxploitation and beyond.

According to Burnett, a good place to begin his story is in a fleabag in Chicago, when he was a twenty-seven-year-old hayseed from Ohio who in six years had written some one hundred stories and five novels, not one of them published. On his first night in the big city, sleeping in that cheap hotel, he was jolted out of bed by a series of explosions across the street. Rival gangsters had been arguing over the rake in the parking garage across the street. Things got heated and they started throwing hand grenades -- "pineapples," folks called them then. That was Chicago in 1928. "Capone was King," Burnett later wrote. "Corruption was rampant... Gangsters were shooting each other all over town; in fact, I 'heard' one killing over the radio. It happened in a cafe while a dance-band broadcast was in progress. Two shots came over distinctly, the music slurred to an abrupt stop, then the air went dead."

Intrigued, Burnett started hanging out with cops and hoods, taking notes, and ended up writing a gangster novel he originally titled The Furies. The first New York publisher he sent it to rejected it. He gave it a new title and sent it off again. In 1929 it was published as Little Caesar.

Along with Hammett, whose Red Harvest had come out six months earlier, Burnett was fashioning a new class of crime novel as literate pulp, just as the syndicates were emerging and the Depression was about to redraw the entire social landscape. The writing is very spare in a Hemingwayish way, yet vividly descriptive when it needs to be. His characters have names like Scabby and Limpy John and Killer Pepi, and they speak a Chicago gangster patois he'd heard on the streets, full of hard guys pumping lead out of gats and rods, new to most readers at the time but soon universally recognized. They're vain to the point of girlishness, constantly fussing with their hair and fawn-colored spats and diamond stick pins. They're cocky and quick to take offense because they're so insecure. They're far more tender, sympathetic and loving with each other than they are with their dames. "I would not shoot Rico if he shot me first," one says. "Rico is my friend and I love him with a great love." Rico ends up forfeiting his life because he can't bring himself to shoot an old pal. As opposed to:

Olga Stassoff was just putting the finishing touches to her make-up. Joe came in softly and stood watching her. She began to sing.

"If you're singing for me," said Joe, "you can stop any time."

Olga turned around.

"Well, what are you doing here? Broke?"

"Shut up," said Joe.

Then he turned and walked out of the room.

Scholars have made much of the homoerotic subtext in all this, but then scholars can see homoerotic subtext in a stick of gum. Probably what Burnett was really picking up on was the peculiarities of Mediterranean masculinity as expressed in the largely Italian milieu of the late-1920s Chicago gangster. Film historian Thomas Doherty points out that "foreign" gangsters -- Italians, Jews -- were still pretty mysterious to a lot of Americans; through the 1920s they'd heard more about all-American outlaws like Bonnie and Clyde, John Dillinger and Baby Face Nelson. The rise of organized crime syndicates -- whom Burnett much later called "just businessmen who don’t abide by the rules" -- was also news to many Americans at the time.

Little Caesar was an instant hit. So of course was the film adaptation. The movie was a huge box office success at a time when the Depression was cutting attendance figures by half, and it made Edward G. Robinson a star. It's not nearly as tough or brisk as the book, though Robinson is great in it. Both the book and the movie had their share of critics who expressed outrage that Burnett seemed to be sympathizing with and "humanizing" his hoodlum characters.

Hollywood called and Burnett answered. For the next forty years he'd be there, writing both novels and films, many of them successful, a few of them classics.

There was The Beast of the City in 1932, with Walter Huston as an unscrupulously tough crime-busting cop who'd later be seen as a pre-echo of Dirty Harry. Howard Hughes called on Burnett to make some sense of more than a dozen draft screenplays for Scarface, based on the Armitage Trail novel published around the same time as Little Caesar. Burnett compiled the best scenes into a master draft, then Ben Hecht applied the polish. The result was the last of the great pre-Code gangster films, a movie much harder and more raw than Little Caesar.

Butnett's oddball 1935 comedy The Whole Town's Talking is a kind of meta-crime story, with Edward G. Robinson brilliantly playing two roles, sometimes in split-screen, as a meek bank clerk who's identical to a vicious killer. Jean Arthur's great in her snappy role too, but then isn't she always. Burnett's prizefighter novel Iron Man was made into three films, Iron Man in 1931, Some Blondes Are Dangerous in 1937, and Iron Man again in 1951. His novella Dr. Socrates, about the clash of a small-town doctor and a hoodlum on the lam, was first serialized in Collier's, then made into the 1935 film of the same name. It starred the great Paul Muni and Ann Dvorak, who'd been paired a few years earlier as the possibly incestuous Tony and Cesca Camonte in Scarface. It was remade in 1939 as the Bogart vehicle King of the Underworld.

By his 1940 novel High Sierra, both Burnett's writing and his tough guys had fully matured. His style is more relaxed, still handsomely descriptive but with more psychological depth. Roy Earle in the book is more broken and melancholy than the Dillinger-inspired outlaw Bogart plays in the film, more jittery and uncomfortable in the world after years in stir. He's not thoroughly a bad man, more of a bad-luck stray like the dog Pard. He's weary and lonesome and sick, showing his age in his inability to control either his flashes of snarling violence or his fits of nostalgic longing. The newspapers call him Mad Dog but Old Dog would be more fitting. His affair with Marie, the only other character as tough and savvy as he is, would be totally mysterious to the hard guys in Little Caesar.

The film adaptation came out in 1941, directed by Raoul Walsh, with a screenplay by Burnett and John Huston that's pretty faithful to the book, though they made the necessary Hollywood concessions. In the novel, Velma's not the innocent little hick she is in the film -- she's damaged goods in more ways than the clubfoot -- and it's explicit that Marie starts out "just a lay," as Roy tells her, then worms her way into his heart just like Pard does. Burnett and Huston tacked on the movie's big melodramatic climax as well. In the book Roy makes sure Marie and Pard are well out of harm's way, then dies alone up in the mountains, shot by a gunman he never sees, taking his bullet quietly, almost wistfully. It probably wouldn't have made good cinema but it's a more fitting end for him. This movie would also get remade twice, as a Western in the 1949 Colorado Territory and then as the grimy 1955 I Died a Thousand Times, with Jack Palance as Earle and Shelley Winters doing the Ida Lupino role.

Having helped to invent the modern gangster novel and picture, Burnett wrote some of the darkest, hardest, and ethically murkiest postwar noir, creating a world where it's nearly impossible to tell the good guys from the bad ones because most everybody's tainted or bent in some way. In the 1946 Nobody Lives Forever, John Garfield is both a war hero and a con man. When he comes home from the warfront, like a lot of other vets he tries to pick up his old life, only to find everything's changed while he was gone. It's sort of The Best Years of Our Lives for hoodlums.

In The Asphalt Jungle, published in 1949, the world's gone so dirty and upside down that the supposedly upstanding citizens are actually worse than the bad guys. The cop and the lawyer are more crooked and sleazy than the hoods who pull the heist, and some of them are plenty sleazy. Like Roy Earle, Dix Handley is a throwback, a farmboy operating by a kind of Old West outlaw code of honor he probably read as a kid in pulp magazines. He's pulled down by lowlifes who are thoroughly modern and urban, and as innocent of ethics as rats in an alley. Huston made the film the following year. It reappeared as the forgotten 1963 George Sanders movie Cairo and again in 1972 as the blaxploitation flick Cool Breeze. A tv crime series called The Asphalt Jungle ran for one season in 1961.

Burnett also co-wrote the screenplay for This Gun for Hire, adapted from the Graham Greene novel. He adapted the Eric Ambler spy novel Background to Danger, worked on the anti-syndicate potboiler The Racket and on several Westerns and wartime pictures.

He was still at it in the 1960s, still writing crime novels like The Cool Man, published in 1968. At a time when other pulp writers were cranking out endless knockoffs of James Bond or trying to get with the hippies and drugs, Burnett stuck with what he knew best. Like High Sierra and The Asphalt Jungle it's about a big heist gone wrong, leaving some of the crooks dead and the rest spatting over the spoils. Now almost all his hard guys are anachronisms, noir characters who've survived into the Swingin' Sixties by wits, guile or just brute force. They're at the opposite end of life from the cocky young narcissists in Little Caesar, old guys moving deliberately down crooked paths they know by rote, pursuing their agendas -- money, revenge, self-preservation, sex -- by instinct now. When fate throws them curves they take it, like Roy Earle would have, with a resigned shrug. By the end of the book all their machinations have just sort of petered out; a few of them are dead and the rest are stranded like sharks out of water. You have to wonder if Burnett was feeling a bit like that himself by this point.

Burnett also co-wrote the screenplay for The Great Escape with James Clavell, his last Hollywood coup. He did some uncredited work on Ice Station Zebra, and wrote episodes for several tv series, including Naked City, The Untouchables and, of course, The Asphalt Jungle, as well as a lot of Westerns. His eyesight failing, he didn't write so much in the 1970s. But he was still able to bring his whole career full circle with his last book, Goodbye, Chicago, set in 1928, the year he got there. It was published in 1981 and he died the next year.

by John Strausbaugh

#John Strausbaugh #The Chiseler #The Cool Man #Beast of the City #Jean Harlow #Edward G. Robinson #WR Burnett

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celticnoise · 4 years

Link

To read the reports from all across the media these last few days, you’d think that Roy Keane’s debut had been in the last couple of years, with McGregor, Forrest, Edouard, Ajer, Jullien and all in the team.

You’d think that their personnel and ours were almost identical to what they were on that ill-fated afternoon when the minnows put us out of the cup.

But the Celtic manager at the time was Gordon Strachan.

The defence had a Chinese international playing in it; he was subbed off at half time and never featured for us again.

The year was 2006. Even a Sevconian can count that. It was fourteen years ago.

I understand the media having some fun raking through the coals of Celtic defeats past. It all they’ve got these days as the best domestic cup run in Scottish football history – and what must be one of the best ever, anywhere – threatens to go on and on and on.

Buried beneath this one however is the not-so-silent prayer that lightning will strike twice.

Celtic’s cup run will end at some point. That’s something we all know. But it will not end at Broadwood tomorrow, no matter how many goats are sacrificed in The Daily Record offices to the God’s of the Underworld. Even if we field a second string team we should be able to get through it.

The game in 2006 was disastrous.

What people seem to forget is that it came in a double winning season.

Had we not suffered such a calamity it’s more than likely that we’d have gone on to win the treble in Strachan’s first campaign.

It was one of those afternoons when everything that could have gone wrong did.

Keane was awful for a start, and the previously mentioned Du Wei looked out of his depth even against lower league opponents. Clyde had the ball in the net twice, with both ruled offside, before they even opened the scoring. They were 2-0 up at half time. And they had missed a penalty.

We didn’t get our goal – a consolation prize from Zurawski – until there were only eight minutes of the game left. For the last stretch we had to watch as a Celtic team played public park football by hoofing long balls into the penalty area. Disgraceful.

Lennon played that day, and he must consider it amongst the most horrific matches he has ever took part in. As a manager he has presided over some cup shockers as well, but this just feels different. The team is in a different place, operating at a higher level than any Celtic side has in sixty years.

The media can cling to hope all they want, but it’s not going to matter.

Celtic will be in the next round of the cup, where Sevco already waits courtesy of a bizarre team selection from Brian Rice, wherein he started the match with six reserve players in the line-up. When forced to bring on a couple of his best players Hamilton turned the game and finished the first half on top, having equalised and been denied a stonewall penalty.

Then, inexplicably, he didn’t send his side out for the kill.

Sevco didn’t go in front until late in the game and even then Rice refused to instruct his team to get forward and chase the game.

The Hamilton fans must be furious.

The board should have hard questions for him.

Cheer yourself up today and check out our Rangers liquidation quiz … as we near the eighth anniversary of Armageddon Day it’s worth going over it again!

https://ift.tt/39kdcrs

#CelticNoise #Celtic #CelticFC #TheCelticBlog #News

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underworld-park-offical · 5 months

Text

PIP: Yes and I'll get the uhm

PIP: I'll get the uh

PIP: I’ll get

PIP: …

PIP: Lemme get ahhhh

PIP: Boneless Pizza

PIP: And uh

PIP: Two liter of uh

PIP: Coke

HEIDI: …

HEIDI: The fuck kinda pizza?

HEDI: And the two liter machine broke, we got one liter tho

PIP: The fuck you mean B?

PIP: Alright look,

PIP: Let me get that pizza BONELESS

HEIDI: Uh? Pizza don't got bone in it

PIP: Tf did I just say then

HEIDI: U said "Lemme get it BONELESS " like pizza got a damn bone in it

PIP: Y'all got BONES in ya shit then

HEIDI: Nah

PIP: So what's the problem?

HEIDI: DICK HEAD name one pizza that got bone on it

PIP: Just don't put them shits in my pizza bruh how many times I gotta say it

HEIDI: Bruh jus explain to me how tf pizza can be boneless?

PIP: If it don't got bone in it iss boneless

HEIDI: Son, what school u go to

PIP: dawg I don't understand the problem just make my shit BONELESS DEADASS

HEIDI: I'm deadass not making this pizza…

PIP: Fine, then you deadass better get me exactly what I want

PIP: Why are you so…

PIP: frumpy?

HEIDI: Excuse me?

PIP: You heard me

PIP: You won't even get me a boneless pizza

PIP: How do you think that makes you look?

HEIDI: erm.

PIP: FRUMPY

HEIDI: You wanna play that way, huh?

HEIDI: Number 1, F = (m)(a) = (1000 kg)( 3 m/s²) =

3000 N.

PIP: What.

HEIDI: HMMMM a = F/a = 200 N / 2.5 m/s² = 80kg

PIP: Is there a manager I can speak to?

HEIDI: OHHH, YOU WANT THE ANSWERS TO THE CROSSWORD ???

HEIDI: Ahem

HEIDI: One is centripetal, two is negative acceleration, three is plate tectonics, four is relative motion, five is slope—

PIP: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

HEIDI: SIX IS SPEED, SEVEN IS AVERAGE SPEED

PIP: WHAT'S EVEN THE GODDAMN DIFFERENCE?!

HEIDI: OH, I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!

HEIDI: AHEM

HEIDI: THE MITOCHONDRIA IS THE POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL PIP: CAN I JUST GET PIP: MY GODDAMN PIP: FOOD PLEASE

TWEEK: WHAT HAPPENED TO BEING NICE??? PIP: I AM BEING NICE!!

TWEEK: BY YELLING??? PIP: FUCK YOU RESPECTFULLY

HEIDI: OKAY FINE, I'LL GET YOU YOUR GODDAMN BONELESS PIZZA OR WHATEVER DUMB QUEER SHIT YOU ORDERED

HEIDI: What do you want you low budget Super Sonic?

TWEEK: Uh yeah uh

TWEEK: What's this thing?

HEIDI: Do you have are stupid?

TWEEK: …

TWEEK: What?

HEIDI: Do you.

HEIDI: Have are.

HEIDI: Stupid?

HEIDI: Bitch?

TWEEK: …

TWEEK: What

TWEEK: What nonsense are you speaking?

TWEEK: What

HEIDI: That is a MENU

HEIDI: Say it with me

HEIDI: MEN

HEIDI: U!

TWEEK: Oh! A Meenew!

TWEEK: Cool!

PIP: Ignore him, he’s an imbecile

TWEEK: Hey! I'm not…

PIP: Anyways, he’ll have a pudding

HEIDI: We don't serve pudding here

TWEEK: No… no pudding???

HEIDI: No sir, we don’t have pudding

TWEEK: ( starts to cry like a lil bitch )

HEIDI: …

HEIDI: We have jello?

TWEEK: IT'S NOT THE SAME!! WAHHHHH!!!

PIP: He’ll just take a coffee

TWEEK: I DON'T WANT COFFEE!! I WANT PUDDIN!!

PIP: Shut

PIP: The

PIP: FUCK UP!

PIP: (SLAP )

TWEEK: ( Ugly Crying )

HEIDI: O….

HEIDI: Kkkkkkayyyyy…

HEIDI: What does the walking fetus want?

PIP: The what?

HEIDI: The child

HEIDI: What can we get for your child?

TWEEK: Right! My

TWEEK: My child

TWEEK: …

TWEEK: Her names Silly String

HEIDI: Cool

HEIDI: Cool cool cool

HEIDI: What does… HEIDI: Silly String

HEIDI: Want to eat

TWEEK: Uh…

TWEEK: What do kids eat?

TWEEK: Do kids even eat?

HEIDI: Yes, kids eat, captain obvious

PIP: Tweek she’s eating a crayon

TWEEK: Oh

TWEEK: …

TWEEK: Do kids eat crayons?

PIP: No

PIP: No they do not

HEIDI: Does

HEIDI: Does Silly String

HEIDI: Want the jello instead?

TWEEK: No

TWEEK: I'm not feeding her that garbage

PIP: Can we just get a round of tater tots?

PIP: Please

HEIDI: Sure

HEIDI: Whatever gets me to stop talking to you

HEIDI: And whatever gets me paid

PIP: Well! That went over nicely!

TWEEK: You slapped me

PIP: It's a start

TWEEK: No

TWEEK: It's really not

PIP: I'm recovering

PIP: I'm changing

PIP: I'm metamorphosing

PIP: I'm evolving

TWEEK: …

TWEEK: Whatever

TWEEK: You seeing this shit, Silly String?

SILLY STRING: ( Grunt of disapproval )

PIP: What, so you’re getting your child to hate me too?

TWEEK: You hate us

PIP: I mean

PIP: True

PIP: But I'm changing

TWEEK: Liar

PIP: Okay I'm lying

PIP: But Estella put me in a fucking time out

PIP: So I have to act nice

PIP: Even though I really

PIP: REEEEALLY

PIP: Don’t want to be

SILLY STRING: ( confused grunt )

TWEEK: Estella's your grandma, Silly String

SILLY STRING: ( surprised grunt )

PIP: Ugh

PIP: I hate Mum…

TWEEK: You see her as a mom too?

PIP: I

PIP: Uh

PIP: NO PIP: I NEVER SAID THAT

PIP: She's just so overprotective of us all the damn time

PIP: IT'S ANNOYING

TWEEK: SHhh

TWEEK: Don't shout!

TWEEK: There's people behind us…

TWEEK: Why the fuck are they looking at us like that?

PIP: It's the queer stare

PIP: They're harshly judging you

TWEEK: Oh god…

TWEEK: Heyyyyy

TWEEK: Silly String, say hi

SILLY STRING: ( excited grunting )

TWEEK: You all look

TWEEK: SO cool

TWEEK: Did you come from the Pride Parade?

TWEEK: Er- I mean…

TWEEK: Uh…

TWEEK: This is my son

TWEEK: …Daughter?

TWEEK: Child?

TWEEK: I don't know what Silly String is…

PIP: Didn’t you call her, “her ” earlier?

TWEEK: I mean,

TWEEK: YEAH

TWEEK: That doesn't mean I know

TWEEK: Wait

TWEEK: What are you, Silly String?

SILLY STRING: ( I don't know grunt )

PIP: It's a mystery!

PIP: How are you all this lovely evening?

PIP: Just SWELL I presume?

TWEEK: Pip your eye is twitching

PIP: IT'S HAPPY SEIZING!!!

TWEEK: No… no pretty sure it's twitching

PIP: HAPPY. SEIZING. I'M SO JOYFUL I'M EXPRESSING IT THROUGH MY EYE!

TWEEK: …Sure…

(Edits made by @pissblanket and @zemoleinyourtrashcan)

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underworld-park-offical · 5 months

Text

TOLKIEN: Zzzzzzzzrzrzrzrrzzzz

TOLKIEN: Zzazzazazezezezezezrzrzzrrzrrr

PHONE: ♪ I'M A BARBIE GIRL ♪

PHONE: ♪ IN THE BARBIE WORLD ♪

PHONE: ♪ LIFE IN PLASTIC ♪

PHONE: ♪ IT'S FANTASTIC ♪

TOLKIEN: Huhhheheehdbfd…

TOLKIEN: Huh

TOLKIEN: What

TOLKIEN: What the fuck?

TOLKIEN: Why is my phone going off?

TOLKIEN: Are the fucking queers calling me again?

TOLKIEN: Eeeeyup its them

TOLKIEN: What

GARY: Have you ever been beaten by a wet spaghetti noodle by your girlfriend cuz she has a twin sister and you got confused and fucked her dad, well that’s how it feels to drive a Ford F-250. That sounds really cool. But you know what else is cool? The new 2020 Ford F-150, winner of 10 J.D. power awards. Perfect for hauling big things and going long distances. But you want to go offroad? Try the new Raptor Edition, which cannot just go offroad, it is perfect for going extreme off-roading. You can go rock climbing or across a desert, really quickly. It is also good for the great American thing - BBQs! In fact, you can haul MORE than one oven! That's pretty cool, huh? So hurry, and buy the new 2020 Ford F-150, now for sale at your local Ford dealership. RED: Wgat RED: Stop RED: Stop speaking BEBE: Girl get the tape from the backseat RED: Already on it NICHOLE: Heyyyy Tolkien NICHOLE: Did I wake you?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: No..

NICHOLE: Oh NICHOLE: That’s NICHOLE: That's good

TOLKIEN: What's going on

NICHOLE: So uhm NICHOLE: Ahahaha NICHOLE: Funny story

TOLKIEN: Nichole what did you do??

TOLKIEN: Did you fuckin

TOLKIEN: Commit fraud?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: Again?

NICHOLE: What NICHOLE: No NICHOLE: Of course not NICHOLE: I am a law abiding citizen NICHOLE: Except for when it comes to the Barbie Movies

TOLKIEN: Okay? We’ve all pirated a Barbie Movie

TOLKIEN: What makes you special?

TOLKIEN: If it's not fraud or piracy what did you even do

NICHOLE: There’s a sentient advertisement in our Porsche now

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: Excuse me?

NICHOLE: Yeah uh NICHOLE: We saw Gary NICHOLE: Or G-4R-Y if you wanna use his actual name? NICHOLE: Fuck I don't know anymore NICHOLE: He was walking in the cold for some reason? NICHOLE: And you know how he only speaks in ads?

TOLKIEN: We all do

BEBE: Wait BITCH do you think we could reprogram him to be like

BEBE: An ALEXA???

GARY: Need some music for that impromptu dance off? Ask Alexa to play songs or playlists from Prime Music and Spotify so you're always ready to show off your sweet moves-if that's what you call them ;) "Amazon Echo: Alec Baldwin and Missy Elliott Dance Party Commercial" via @popisms :https://www.popisms.com/TelevisionCommercial/126873/Amazon-Echo-Commercial-2016 GARY: I really don't want you to see me like this. You need some entrance music. Alexa, play Alex dance playlist. Playing Alex playlist. That's dance music? Alexa, play Pep Rally by Missy Elliott. Really? Perfect! I got a little something for you. It's beautiful. Does this mean I'm gonna be in your next video? Let me see what you got. (Lyrics) Anything you want me to (Lyrics) Pep rally, pep rally, pep rally Oh, this a pep rally Pep rally, pep rally, pep rally Bounce, biggity bounce, biggity-biggity bounce, bounce Where my clappers that stomp? Now rock with it Bounce, biggity bounce, biggity-biggity bounce via @popisms : https://www.popisms.com/TelevisionCommercial/126873/Amazon-Echo-Commercial-2016 GARY: I’m Gary! The Mormon who advertises! RED: I mean RED: I’ll become a mechanic if it gets him to stfu 💀💀💀 WENDY: No- RED- NO PUT THE WRENCH DOWN! RED: FUCK YOU GARY: The future. You used to chase it. Now you’re living in it. The Wavefront is an all-electric automobile that propels driving into a new era. With sleek, aerodynamic design, and ultrasonic sensors that prevent collisions, there’s no more getting left behind. Life’s short. Drive fast. GARY: I’m Gary! The Mormon who advertises! RED: SHUT THE FUCK UP!! WENDY: RED!! NO!! BEBE: GIRLY POPS AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU BEBE: I'M GONNA HIT A DEER IF YOU ALL DONT HUSH RED: WENDY LET ME GO I'M GONNA KILL HIM WENDY: WE ARE NOT KILLING THE AD NICHOLE: SHUT THE FUCK UP IM ON THE PHONE BEBE: SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M DRIVING!!!! RED: CAN I THROW HIM OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR??!?!?!?!?!? WENDY AND NICHOLE: NO!!! NICHOLE: Tolkien I'm gonna have to let you go NICHOLE: We might die- NICHOLE: RED PUT DOWN THE WRENCH YOU'RE GONNA KILL SOMEONE! RED: THAT'S THE GOAL!! GARY: As a parent, I want to know that my kids are safe wherever they are. That includes riding in the car. With the new Carpool Optic from Solar I can breathe easy knowing my kids will arrive where they need to safely – whether I am the driver or not. RED: AUGHHHH!!!!!! NICHOLE: I’m hanging up now NICHOLE: MMMMMMMMMOKAYBYE

TOLKIEN: Bye?

(Beep Beep Beep)

TOLKIEN: Jesus christ

TOLKIEN: (Yawn)

TOLKIEN: Man

KENNY: Hey

TOLKIEN: Ah!

TOLKIEN: Oh my god I got jumpscared by a fucking queer!

KENNY: Oh hardy har har har

KENNY: You got games on yo phone?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: What

KENNY: Do you got games

KENNY: On yo phone

TOLKIEN: I mean like

TOLKIEN: I got like

TOLKIEN: Subway surfers??

TOLKIEN: If

TOLKIEN: If that works???

TOLKIEN: Uh

TOLKIEN: Ok?????

TOLKIEN: Here

KENNY: Thanks

KENNY: Oh yeah, can I call my sister while I play subway surfers?

KENNY: I gotta make sure she’s not

KENNY: Yknow

KENNY: Fuckin’ dead

TOLKIEN: No you’re gonna kill my damn battery

TOLKIEN: Just call your sister you dont need to play fucking subway surfers

KENNY: Fine

KENNY: Killjoy

TOLKIEN: Ugh

KAREN: I can't believe McDonald's served me that lukewarm fucking patty

KAREN: And then had the AUDACITY to tell me KAREN: That it gets cold over time!?!?

KAREN: I think they just undercooked it ON PURPOSE to make ME look like an idiot

TRICIA: Damn, that's crazy

(🎵 KAREN METAL 🎵 )

KAREN: OH MY GOD

KAREN: WHO'S CALLING ME AT EXACTLY 1:59 IN THE MORNING?!?!?

TRICIA: Bro just say 2 AM 💀

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: I can’t believe I just said that out loud

KAREN: WHAT?!?!?

KENNY: Hi

KAREN: WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME?!?!?

KAREN: DO YOU KNOW HOW LATE IT IS?!?!?!

KAREN: I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER

KENNY: Sis it's me

KAREN: UGHHHHH

KAREN: You missed your nail appointment

KENNY: Shiiiit that was today?

KAREN: You still owe me the money for it

KENNY: … KENNY: Karen, we don't have money, we’re poor

KAREN: Get a job

KENNY: …I do have a job

KAREN: Okay so then you have money?

KENNY: No

KAREN: That doesn't make sense

KENNY: Anyways- KENNY: You alive?

KAREN: Clearly

KENNY: Okay cool KENNY: So uh KENNY: There's demons around, I hope they find you and kill you and you die bye

KAREN: …What?

KAREN: Tricia do you know what the fuck he’s talking about?

TRICIA: No

TRICIA: Also stop calling on speakerphone

TRICIA: You remind me of my brother (derogatorily)

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: WHY DO I KEEP DOING THAT!?!??!

TRICIA: UGHHH

TRICIA: I’m gonna go yell at my brother by cursing me into the influencer gene pool

TRICIA: You wanna come?

KAREN: If I get to yell at someone, of course

TRICIA: Be-

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: I'm not even gonna say that

CRAIG: Who the fuck where you talking to

CRAIG: I feel like they were talking shit smh my head

KENNY: Oh just my bitch sister and your bitch sister

KENNY: Told her she was gonna die soon

CRAIG: LMAOOOO I’m dead 💀💀💀

KENNY: Lol it was funny she was so mad

TOLKIEN: I swear to god you guys are the same person sometimes

CRAIG: Smh my head no literally untrue

KENNY: Common Tolkien L

TOLKIEN: I want you both dead

CRAIG: …

KENNY: …

TRICIA: Okay where tf is blud

TRICIA: I'm gonna kill his ass

KAREN: Ugh

KAREN: He probably set up Kenny to fucking prank us

KAREN: Going to yell at them both when we find them

TRICIA: For real

TRICIA: Smh my fucking head

TRICIA: OH MY GOD CAN I STOP DOING THAT!?!?

KAREN: There's his door

KAREN: Should I kick it down?

TRICIA: No he will literally kill me

TRICIA: Instead we’re gonna go in his room

TRICIA: Steal all his shit

TRICIA: And fucking burn it

KAREN: Ohh yay! Property damage! My favorite!

TRICIA: Shhh shhh shhhh

TRICIA: Stfu

TRICIA: He’ll hear us

KAREN: No

KAREN: You're not the boss of me

TRICIA: Okay

TRICIA: On three

TRICIA: One- Two-

KAREN: THREE

KAREN: Ew it's so dark in here

KAREN: It smells like fucking Ccool Ranch Doritos in here

TRICIA: Shut the fuck up

TRICIA: He’s gonna hear you

TRICIA: I know where he keeps his Supreme hoodies

TRICIA: HOOOOOLY SHIT IS THAT A DEAD BODY!??!?!?!?

KAREN: AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

KAREN: WE ARE GONNA DIE

KAREN: GET THE MANAGER!!

TRICIA: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE KILLER COULD STILL BE HERE YOU QUEERMO

GREGORY AND ESTELLA: Shhhhh he eepy

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

KAREN AND TRICIA: AAAAAAAAAAA-

TRICIA: Okay

TRICIA: HAILLLL NAWHHHHH

KAREN: I’m calling the police

TRICIA: That is the smartest thing you could ever do

KAREN: Hello? 911?

KAREN: Hi yeah, there's some queers in our house

KAREN: Please come

KAREN: Bye

(Edits made by @pissblanket and @cattpup5)

56 notes · View notes

underworld-park-offical · 2 months

Text

GREGORY: Well! That was incredibly draining.

ESTELLA: Oh don’t you even start, young man!

ESTELLA: You barely did a thing!

GREGORY: Oh I HELPED!!!

ESTELLA: When I ASKED!!!

ESTELLA: You were more concerned with playing Papa’s Cupcakeria!

GREGORY: That game is really fun, okay?!

ESTELLA: Whatever, what shall we do now?

GREGORY: …Play Papa’s Cupcakeria together?

ESTELLA: No thank you.

ESTELLA: I do not mean to offend, but If I hear that game’s soundtrack one more time I will throw that computer.

GREGORY: Hmmm…

GREGORY: I know!

GREGORY: We could play Kiss, Marry, Kill!

ESTELLA: GREGORY!!!

ESTELLA: NO!!!! ESTELLA: That game is lewd, violent, and inappropriate!

ESTELLA: Who would we even be kissing, marrying, and killing in these scenarios???

GREGORY: Why, the humans, of course!

ESTELLA: Absolutely not.

GREGORY: Awww! Pleeeease??

ESTELLA: Gregory. Bellarose.

GREGORY: Pretty please?

ESTELLA: Gregory. Wolfgang. Bellarose.

GREGORY: What if I said pretty please with a cherry on top covered in a banana sundae?

ESTELLA: …

ESTELLA: I do like banana sundaes…

GREGORY: Wonderful!!!

GREGORY: Starting off strongly, Craig.

GREGORY: Can we agree to kill this one?

ESTELLA: As a pacifist, I firmly believe others do not deserve death…

ESTELLA: ….

ESTEALLA: However

ESTELLA: He has gone through great lengths to ensure your internet extravaganza is as unenjoyable as possible, so I agree.

ESTELLA: Put the boy in the Pear Wiggler.

GREGORY: I did not expect that, being honest…

ESTELLA: No.

ESTELLA: Kill this one too.

GREGORY: Estella! I am surprised at you!

ESTELLA: I had to be in. That INCELS body. For three. Hours.

ESTELLA: I could not bathe.

ESTELLA: The body was constantly SHITTING itself.

ESTELLA: And he smelt of doritos and body odor.

ESTELLA: I think my choice is justified.

GREGORY: Okay queen, that was actually really slay of you! Go off!

GREGORY: I think his little ex is more tolerable, though!

ESTELLA: I hate to be mean, but he was right to break up with him.

GREGORY: Exactly! Those nasty ass hands…

ESTELLA: Please don't remind me…

ESTELLA: Now, I wouldn't marry Tolkien, but a smooch wouldn't hurt anyone.

GREGORY: For what he did to Clyde I'd get down on my knees and start throwing rings at him.

ESTELLA: I thought you liked that Stanley boy?

GREGORY: Mmmm…

GREGORY: Reconsidering my options….

ESTELLA: Oh dear, why so?

GREGORY: HE WON’T SMOOCH ME!!!!

ESTELLA: That is his loss then! You are a wonderful boy, Gregory. You deserve better.

GREGORY: Estella you don't get it.

GREGORY: Dad bods and pathetic men are my weakness.

ESTELLA: Gregory…. Raise your standards for your own sake…

GREGORY: If my standards went any higher, I'd be single for life.

ESTELLA: Fair enough, I suppose…

GREGORY: WHY WON'T YOU SMOOCH ME WHY WON'T YOU SMOOCH ME WHY WON'T YOU SMOOCH ME!!!???

ESTELLA: He may not like men, dear….

GREGORY: HOMOPHOBIA!!! HE IS HOMOPHOBIC!!!!! HE DOESN'T WANT TO KISS ME AND THAT MAKES HIM A HOMOPHOBE!!!!

ESTELLA: I suppose I'm killing this one too…

GREGORY: I'm forcing him into marriage. He. Will. Kiss. Me.

ESTELLA: Gregory, calm down.

ESTELLA: You're here, I need you here.

GREGORY: Sorry… sorry…

GREGORY: Oh Dear look at that one…

GREGORY: Green is NOT his color…

ESTELLA: Don't be rude! You can not bully him!

GREGORY: What? It's not bullying! It's an astute observation! He's a ginger! Gingers don't look good in lime green! It's constructive criticism!!!

GREGORY: Oughh… I think I'm going to have to kill him…

ESTELLA: GREGORY!!!

ESTELLA: (Sigh)

ESTELLA: I for one, think he's a nice boy, and will give him a little smooch, as a treat.

GREGORY: Erm… which one's this again?

ESTELLA: Oh I'm afraid I don't know.

GREGORY: Is he new or something?

ESTELLA; Oh no no no! I think he's the blue haired Fellow!

ESTELLA: TrollyHomme was his name, right?

GREGORY: Hell-

ESTELLA: Language

GREGORY: -If I know

ESTELLA: Hmmmm….

GREGORY: Kill?

ESTELLA: Kill?

GREGORY: Kill.

ESTELLA: Mhm.

GREGORY: Hmmm, I'm not sure about this one?

GREGORY: I think this will be the first one I kiss.

GREGORY: That country accent weakens me.

ESTELLA: What accent he speaks in mumbles.

GREGORY: You can hear it sometimes!!!

ESTELLA: No you cannot.

GREGORY: How can you not?? It's so obvious!

ESTELLA: I have no comment on this one. He smells of metal, which concerns me.

GREGORY: Why? He could just be a mechanic?

ESTELLA: Or a murdering robot.

GREGORY: Oh please! They haven't been active in centuries, we'll live.

(edits made by @pissblanket)

36 notes · View notes

underworld-park-offical · 7 months

Text

CRAIG: DIE, WHORE!!!!!

GREGORY: AGHHHHAGAHSGHJDguiwbulABUKBUICGDosah8CF0H()o

GREGORY: I HAVE BEEN ASSAULTED I HAVE BEEN HATE CRIMED I HAVE BEEN DESTROYED

GREGORY: THEY’VE RUINED ME!!!!

GREGORY: MY CONTOUR GREGORY: MY LOUIS VUTTION!!!

GREGORY: YOU LITTLE SHITS

STAN: Hey uh. You kinda cute ngl

GREGORY: Huh? I am?

STAN: Yeah I just uhm… are you gay?

GREGORY: Gay as fuck

STAN: Let's date

GREGORY: Okay pookie

GREGORY: Wow Stan, you are so handsome

STAN: I know honeybun

GREGORY: oh my Satan you are so hot

STAN: SATAN!?

GREGORY: Yes snookums… I'm a demon

STAN: WHAT!!? OH MY GOD DEMON!! GET AWAY!

GREGORY: POOKIE BEAR!! COME BACK!

GREGORY: MY MASCARA IS GETTING RUINED!!

STAN: AGOUIFYUOIGCGTJUOVHUHIGVYUIGVBJKH STAN: (AGGRESSIVE HACKING/COUGHING NOISES)

STAN: HUHBUHUBUBUBUHBHUH

STAN:(WEEZE(r))

GREGORY: Ow what the fuck

GREGORY: That shit hit me so hard that I got transported to a damn Wattpad fanfiction

GREGORY: Fucking ow

GREGORY: You whore

CRAIG: That's what you get for dissing my merch

CRAIG: Smh my fucking head

STAN: Buhhh

STAN: What happened? STAN: What's going on?

STAN: Why is there a twink in my living room?

GREGORY: Shut up, Shane Dawson

STAN: Fuck you

GREGORY: Just so you KNOW Craig_The_Real_Tucker,

GREGORY: You just started a war you could never win

GREGORY: My account, GREGORY_CUTIE_PIE_3rd has over 14 million followers

GREGORY: They will ALL cancel you

CRAIG: Not before I reveal your secret, bitch

GREGORY: What are you on about?

CRAIG: You’ll see what I mean when I make my 3 AM cancellation post lmao

THOMAS: What the hell is going on in there?

THOMAS: I heard a chair breaking…

TWEEK: lord of Satan, it's probably some dumb petty internet drama

TWEEK: Let's not get involved

TWEEK: Nothing is worse than getting caught in the crossfires of influencer war

THOMAS: O… okay if you say so?

THOMAS: We should probably get out of the road though…

THOMAS: Estella had us watch a bunch of safety PSAS and im scared of dying

TWEEK: You're already dead

THOMAS: I- I know but I don't want to die twice

TWEEK: You

TWEEK: You can't???????

TWEEK: HUH?????

THOMAS: TWEEKHOLYSHITLOOKOUTCAR!!!!!

TWEEK: WHAT THE FUCK IS A-

TWEEK:AGFUTDF(O&YCTGUIJHFY*OUGJHTRFUFYGUMBNCFT&FCFGHJFGHCUIOYJDCGUIOUYFFYCGHIFTYGU

THOMAS: HOLY FUCK- SHIT- FUCK- COCK FUCK- IHIYFGOIGUIFYGUIFILYHVCKFCVHLIVLUYCHVK

TOLKIEN: Oh look what your bitching made me do, Clyde!

TOLKIEN: I hit a fucking deer!

TOLKIEN: I….

TOLKIEN: ….think?

THOMAS: YOU HIT TWEE- FUCK SHIT SHIT ASS ASS! OIGFI^YGIUOGUKGUFLCTGHVJCKHG

STAN: What the fuck

STAN: What is going on outside

KYLE: Global warming?

STAN: Other than what's not real

KYLE: Stan don't start with this

STAN: I'm just saying, if it DID exist wouldn't it make the whole world feel warm?

KYLE: IT IS!!! IT'S MELTING THE ICE CAPS!!!

STAN: That's what they want you to believe

KYLE: Okay, you’ve lost talking privileges

GREGORY: YOU WOULDN'T

CRAIG: OH I FUCKING WOULD BITCH CRAIG: YOURE ABOUT TO BE CANCELLED IN T MINUS FUCK YOU GREGORY: NOT BEFORE YOU DIE CRAIG: BITCH I'M TOO FAMOUS TO DIE GREGORY: BULLSHIT CRAIG: NOT MY FAULT YOU USED ARDELLE WHISPIES GREGORY: YOU WHORE

STAN: SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M WATCHING SOMEONE PUKE BLOOD

GREGORY: OH MY GOD IS TOMMY OKAY? GREGORY: TOMMY BOY????

GREGORY: TOMMY BOY??? TWEEKY?????

TWEEK: uuuughhh

TWEEK: That HURT you asshole

THOMAS: YOU SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO THOSE FUCK! SHIT! SHIT! FUCK! SAFETY PSAS BLUHGHUGJGKBVHBJUVHJKb

TOLKIEN: Oh

TOLKIEN: Look, Clyde

TOLKIEN: It's your new boyfriend

CLYDE: Aww is he okay???

TWEEK: NO I GOT HIT BY A FUCKING CAR TWEEK: YOU BROKE MY LEGS!!!

CLYDE: Well SOMEONE was fighting so hard with me that they weren't looking at the ROAD

TOLKIEN: Oh so this is MY fault now???

CLYDE: YES THIS IS YOUR FAULT CLYDE: YOU HIT HIM WITH YOUR CAR

TOLKIEN: MAYBE IF YOU WASHED YOUR DAMN HANDS THAT WOULDN'T HAPPEN

CLYDE: WHAT DOES WASHING MY HANDS HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT???

TOLKIEN: IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH IT!!!

TWEEK: CALL 911

TWEEK: MY LEGS ARE FUCKING BROKEN

THOMAS: BLUHJBHJVUIGY*HUGH TWEEK: STOP GETTING KOOL AID ON MY BROKEN LEGS YOU ASS

THOMAS: SORRYBIHGUHIJKLUHHHH

TWEEK: Wait a second

TWEEK: IS YOUR KOOL AID VOMIT HEALING MY LEGS????? TWEEK: KEEP DOING IT KEEP DOING IT YOU LIL PISSBOY

THOMAS: OKAYBLUGHUIHVJBKBFUCK SHIT BPHUIGLKNJBHI

GREGORY: TWEEKY

GREGORY: TOMMY BOY

TOLKIEN: Fuck

CLYDE: Awww man

CLYDE: You ruined my chances at asking out Tweek

GREGORY: What?

CLYDE: What?

(Edits made by @pissblanket and @zemoleinyourtrashcan)

(Nyan Neko sugar girls art made by @zemoleinyourtrashcan credits go to Nyan Neko Sugar Girls for making the og images)

(Wattpad fanfic segment written by either @smilerzart or @cattpup5, unsure)

#craig tucker #craigfluencer #hellpark #south park #south park edits #sp #southpark #underworld park #underworld park tolkien #underworld park tweek #underworld park pip #underworld park clyde #underworld park thomas #underworld park gregory

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