Just a warning, this is going to be very long! I (21F) and my brother (15M) were abandoned by our mother when I was 11 or 12.
For context, she was a teen mother, with a lot of mental health issues (bipolar, BPD, depression, i can only assume some form of sociopathic behavior), and she addicted to hard drugs. My father was a little rough around the edges, but overall a hardworking guy who went into the relationship with a "I can fix her" mentality. For the first few years of my life, I was oblivious to all of the issues going on in my family, I just enjoyed the first 5 years of my life as a happy child. My mother hid her drug addiction well enough for a 5 year old not to ask any questions, and I thought weekly screaming matches were normal and "mommies and daddies fight sometimes". Unbeknownst to me, my mother was cheating with dozens of people, and emotionally/financially/physically abusing my father, he put on a happy face to try and give me a good childhood. He worked 5am- 5pm at a bagel store (no car, only a bike) and never came home empty handed; always a toy, or a piece of candy for me as "sorry" for always being gone and working all day. I thought my mother would always bring her "friends" (men and women) in the house while dad was at work, and they would spend hours "playing" in her room with the door locked. I pretty much had to raise and take care of myself from the time I woke up to around 6pm, so I ended up becoming pretty smart by entertaining myself with my mom's fantasy novels (Harry potter, princess of mars, lord of the rings, etc.) On days she had college classes, our landlords (amazing people) would babysit me. My mother did give me affection, and I loved her very much, but she was very hands-off.
Granted, I wasn't the easiest child to deal with, I had ADHD, undiagnosed autism, among some other things.
When she got pregnant with my brother, (also adhd+autism) I noticed things started to change. My parents would fight more often, the house smelled like smoke, and the electricity to the apartment would be out for weeks because we couldn't pay the bills. Shortly after my brother was born, my parents had the hugest fight I've ever seen, I don't even remember what it was about (probably cheating), but it was the first time it hit me that everything in my life wasn't as happy as I thoughts. I sat clutching my baby brother as she beat my dad with a chair and started screaming. He grabbed a knife and ran outside and tried to end his life by stabbing his wrist. I was screaming and crying my landlords name, hoping my baby sitter would come and save me, he bolted downstairs, pried the door open, and grabbed the two of us and took us into his top floor of the apartment. He gave me some chocolate milk while him and his wife called the police. That was the day my parents split up, and my mom was able to spin the whole thing on my dad, taking custody and he was granted only visitation rights. My mother was kicked out of the apartment, and my aunt (dads sister, but my mother had taken a liking to her and allowed us to see her often) had a feeling something fishy was going on when no one would tell her anything about the details of that night. She went to my old house and asked my landlords what happened, they told her, so she let us sleep over with her whenever we wanted as a safe haven from our mom. She didn't go to court with any of the information she got, out of fear that my mother wouldn't let her see us again, because she was now our only place of complete safety.
My life became a living hell from that point onward. A week a later, my mom told us that her "new boyfriend"(probably a guy she cheated on dad with but I was like 7 and didn't know better) was letting us move in with him. He was the most horrible piece of shit. He got my mother addicted to even more drugs, and they both constantly talked badly about my dad, and when I cried, covered my ears, and said I didn't want to hear it, he would hit me and tell me that I needed to know. He was basically unemployed, and would sometimes sell drugs, or take antiques out of abandoned houses to sell. I hated him. My mother made an entire personality shift, and would defend him even if he said horrible things to me or hit me. She saw no fault in him. She stopped reading me bedtime stories, and stopped telling me she loved me. The only time she was nice to me was when we were in front of other people like school functions... she would kiss up to all my teachers.
I was left to take care of my baby brother on my own, and my father was in and out of mental hospitals from the trauma, so everything he said about how horrible my mother was fell of deaf ears because he was labeled "crazy".
We had no money, it was all spent on drugs, I went out by myself several times to dig through dumpsters just to get food, and I stole baby formula from supermarkets. This one nice homeless lady knew my situation, and would walk me into the stores "as my grandma" so I wouldnt get stopped to ask why a child was all alone. She would poke around the store and buy a $1 candy bar, while I stole formula, and some cold cuts for her. She showed me all the best dumpsters, where delis would throw put perfectly good food at the end of the day. We had an alliance of sorts. I was less than 9 years old.
Her boyfriend became sexually abusive to me around that time. I'll spare the details.
My mother was starting to go off the rails completely. Doing anything for drug money. I clearly remember the time that she told me to get naked and she took pictures of me, up close in all my private areas "to send to the doctor" or else "I would have to go in person and they might give me a shot" (she knew I hated needles.). She never mentioned that event again, but I just know she sent them to some pedophile for money. It makes me sick to my stomach when I think about it. Her bf would try and hurt my brother, I would always step in and get beat instead. We saw our father and aunt maybe once a month, and I was threatened not to say anything to the school or my dad/aunt or else he would kill my mom. I said nothing. I told my aunt all the bruises were from bullies at school, my teachers were taking care of it... or that I was climbing trees, some excuse. I think she knew the truth, but was too scared of losing us to say anything. Everytime they went to drop us back off at our mom's, my brother would have a tantrum. He cried so much the blood vessels in his face would pop. He now at 15 has permanant, freckle like, spots of red on his face from crying so much so often.
She got pregnant again with his twin girls. She gave birth prematurely, and they came out very very sick. She gave birth at home... I was giving most of their care. After the "ohhhh new baby" feeling wore off for her, of course I was basically a mother of 3 at 10 years old. They didn't last long, less than a year. I was in complete despair and that was the first time i tried to end my life. I filled the bathtub and tried to drown myself by repeatedly hitting my head underwater in attempts to pass out under the water. It didn't work, and I was left with neck pain and a migraine that lasted 4 days. I attempted about 5 times, different methods, by this point I haven't been to school in a week. When I came back to school, the teachers noticed something was wrong. I kept looking off into space, detached. I would lash out and act aggressively when anyone would try and talk to me. I would have 2 hour "bathroom breaks" where I just stared at the wall inside the stall and acted rudely when anyone came to get me. What did they do? Not call CPS, of course, they sent me to a special school because of my "sudden behavior issues". I was in a class now with students I could not connect with in any way. I had no friends. All the other kids in my new class had severe learning disabilities and talking to my brother who was 6 years younger than me was more of a conversation. They couldn't read, most of them were almost non-verbal.
My mom broke up with her bf because he cheated, and we were going to lose the house. He still lived with us for a few days but stayed silent. My mother blamed me, saying that I ruined everything by being a bad child and now we were going to be homless. He tried to touch me one last time and I snapped and stabbed him deeply with a BBQ screwer, he just walked away. later that night he killed himself, I saw it. I'll never get that image out of my head.
I lost it, I had an outburst at school, crying and screaming that I wanted to kill myself and for God to just let me die. They sent me to a hospital, and the school called my mom to say I was having an outburst of psychosis. I spilled everything to the hospital about what her bf was doing to me (I couldnt bring myself to talk about my mothers abuses for some reason), and after a while, it was my dad who came to get me... apparently my mother had taken off, leaving my brother alone in the house after the school had called her. I had so many questions. But I was so happy to finally be able to live with my dad and his side of the family.
I was so traumatized, as well as neurodivergent, I acted strangely and dealt with some bullies at school but that was it, it was like heaven on earth. My father didn't even know the full scope of what went on, but the more I told him the more guilty he felt. He started spoiling us a bit out of guilt, so we were happy to be with a parent who loved us.
We never knew where she went. Until I was 18, and she reached out to me on social media. Initially I didn't want to answer. I left my DM sitting there for a few days but... I felt this unexplainable pull. I hated her all these years, but for some reason when the option to take her back into my life came up... something in me missed her. I kept thinking back to the few happy times, and the curiosity was killing me. I finally messaged back, my father told me not to, but he said he couldn't stop me, I at least deserved some answers, and to get all my pent up hatred out at her for some closure. We awkwardly chatted for a few minutes, she told me that her father in West Virginia picked her up, she started a new life, joined narcotics anonymous, but stayed low and didn't let herself be known. She met a genuinely good man at NA, who had convinced her to right her wrongs, quit drugs, and fix her family. They had 2 kids together (one with down syndrome), and she was a present, active mother. I felt a vicious jealousy. Why would she go and have 2 more kids when she had 2 that she abandoned? Why were they treated with love and a loving home when we went through hell...? Why didn't she make it up to us before she went and had more kids..?
My mind did weird things then. It made me need her approval. I kissed up to her, saying I forgave her. That I always knew everything was always her ex bfs fault and not hers.That we were sad when she left. I planned a trip to see her a month later and her new family, my friends all begged me it was a bad idea, to please please not go, and at least to not tell my brother about it. I listened to them, and didnt tell my brother any of this, I told him I was visiting a long distance friend.
I went, we had a pretty good time. Her kids were cute, and I absolutely adored her new lover. He was a good southern man, my gut told me that. He took me fishing, and let me talk through all my feelings. I finally had the relationship with her that I always craved. It felt sickening good, I was estatic. I didn't care about all of the weird signs, like the weird friends she had (looked like crack addicts), and how she managed to get a kind rich southern guy to take her in. I didn't even care. I was just happy to finally feel like I had her approval. I have a habit of bedwetting time to time from anxiety, I ended up having an accident and I was mortified. I cleaned it all up, but told her and, she said it was no big deal. She used to scream at me or hit me as a child for wetting the bed, and now she was reacting normally. It was like a new woman.
My trip was cut short by a week, she had to be rushed into hospital because her appedix was about to explode, she needed to recover and wouldnt be able to do anything fun with me for the remainder of the trip. I watchd her get taken by the ambulance, and was freaking out crying, I was so relieved when the surgery was a success. Her new man apologized profusely for all he stress and bought me a plane ticket back home to NY. He hugged me saying he would be so happy to see me again over the summer, and he had so much fun fishing with me. That he wanted to be a good step dad. He was a nice dude, just like my dad (a good guy she manipulated) I felt it in my gut. They both were at the airport, my mother in a wheelchair, and hugged me off. She said she loved me and to text her when I landed
I did, and got no response. Another day passed, nothing. I started to freak out and called her, only for it to go to voicemail. I messaged one of her friends sons who she Introduced me to. Asking if she was okay. He said he would get back to me once she responded to him, but them he too ghosted me. It was like she was never there. I called her partners work, and they said they would tell him to give me a call. Nothing. I was in despair. I assumed the worst, that she had died or something because of a surgery complication. I was so confused. I pushed it all out of my mind, wrote it off as a mystery even though it ate up at me. I always just justified it as a death, even though it made no sense. She was still following me on Facebook, but there wasn't activity for months when she was once super active. I deleted facebook a few months later because it just hurt.
It's been about 3 years since then. I needed to re-download facebook because my aunt wanted me to check something on matketplace... and I looked up her name just out of curiosity... shes been posting for over a year now. She's okay. She posts her kids, her fiance... she never once responded ro any of my messages yet. Not on text, not on Facebook messenger, no where.... I scrolled and scrolled, crying. I saw she got a new tattoo... a rose for each of her kids.... one for each of her two new kids, one for a miscarriage she had...two for our sisters who passed away... NONE for me or my brother. Like we don't even exist to her.
I don't know what to do. I want to know WHY. We finally had a good relationship, I finally forgave her. We finally could have been okay, saw each other a few times a year... she said she was happy to have me back in her life.... WHY? I'm so heartbroken and confused. I miss her. Was it because I wet the bed? I don't know. I know shes horrible, but I can't help but miss her so much it hurts. Should I continue trying to reach out, or just let her go..? How do I process thos? Any advice, or maybe a theory/explanation/comfort. Anything would help. I just need help. I don't know what to do...

Question: I had 600+ Jangmo-O candy + 100+ Jangmo-O XL candy.
I accidentally transferred all of them. I didn’t have a single Jangmo-O that was above 85%+ IV. Did I lose all that candy? Or it’ll be ‘stored’ and when I get my next Jangmo-O, I’ll see all the candy?

Please pray for me.
I just had door dash deliver me a dozen donuts. And there’s some left over cake that I didn’t eat last night on the counter. Oh, and I’m going to stock up on candy bars and potato chips at the market. But I’m trying to lose weight, so please pray for me.
Oh, and while you’re at it, pray for my wife. She’s a recovering alcoholic and we keep booze everywhere. Beer and wine in the fridge, a fully stocked liquor cabinet. But hey, pray that she doesn’t go back to drinking.
There was a man who owned a house next to the river. And it rained heavily and he prayed that God would keep him safe. And the river rose up until the water was near his porch. And the fire department came by and offered him a ride to higher ground. But he declined and told them that God would save him. Later still, the water rose up even higher so that he had to go upstairs to his bedroom to stay dry. And along came a dude in a boat, and offered to take him to higher ground and safety. But he refused and told the boat guy that God would save him. And the water rose some more, and the guy retreated to his rooftop. A coast guard helicopter spotted him and dropped a basket to take him away. But he refused, knowing God would save him.
And he was swept away by the water.
And drowned.
And as he arrived in Heaven, he asked God “why didn’t you save me?”
And God replied “I sent the fire department, a boat and a helicopter.”
God isn’t gonna “take away” your urges. Prayer ain’t gonna solve this. Jesus told you what to do. Cut off. Cast away.
What’s keeping you from obedience?

i've been water fasting for few days now, apart from small candy bars to stop my stomach from growling so loud and letting everyone in the library hear.
im feeling very hungry, i want to eat, my stomach hurts, but i havent done enough studying to deserve a meal. its my birthday tdy and my friends invited me for dinner but im scared i'll lose control and start eating ravenously like a pig.
they all know about my eating problem and noticed ive been declining their dinner invites and avoiding them on campus except tdy bcs i actually want to see them for my birthday to feel better about finals. and my boyfriend is also coming later to bring food bcs he knows i dont rlly eat and he knows i lied a lot about eating when i actually didnt.
theres just so much guilt and shame w enduring this, i dont maintain friendships well, people start to leave, i dont feel good and i dont even do that well in exams. i just want to feel normal again.

I’ve been struggling with this disorder since before I was even a teenager.
I’m nearing my 30s,
I. Can’t. Take this. Anymore.
I’ve done literally everything I can.
I’ve tried every diet when I was young, then every lifestyle change that was realistic for me. I became vegan for a year and a half and lost 80 pounds, gained it back, lost some again, gained back. And the past few years has been me constantly losing 10-30 pounds and gaining it back. I’m not vegan anymore, and don’t want to be. And I can’t muster up the energy to do it again anyway. But it wasn’t about the vegan food, it was my commitment and will power.
Now it’s worse. My eating disorder has seemingly gotten worse in some ways and better in others.
A few months ago I got a gym membership and was also reading “brain over binge” and my eating had never been more balanced in my life. No calorie counting (which I still believe is helpful, but I was happy I didn’t feel like I needed to do it) no restricting every single thing I ate, no off limit anything. Just adding healthier foods, eating adequately, and working out.
But then I got a cold, I was sick for two weeks and couldn’t go to the gym. Which spiraled me into eating fast food too often, gaining a ton of weight quickly, and giving up entirely.
Then I gained so much weight and kept trying to control it that I got so sick of myself because I binged an entire bag of Doritos and a whole box of donuts, for the first time in 12 years I actually chose to restrict myself entirely and only eat foods that helped my eating disorder and physical and mental illnesses.
5 days later, I started eating like shit again, shocker. And it’s been a few more days, and I’ve binged again now.
I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!????!!!!!!! I’m sick to death of having no control over myself. I’m sick to death of the weight, the side effects of the food, spending any money I ever have on this. I spent 63 dollars in the past not even 24 hours on take out. I want to die. I give up.
Edit: also I ordered myself two small pizzas, a slurpy, donuts and candy all in the same night and when a family member came home I ate the food that was offered to me. Which was mozzarella sticks, chips, and a pretzel. Also cake and cookies. Which I ate some of each. I was already so full.
The other day when I binged and decided to restrict, it was also because the amount of food physically made my spine ache and pain medicine wouldn’t even take it away.
The food was pressing up against my FUCKING SPINE. I fucking hate myself and this disorder.

Finally it sunk in my depression is getting worse and I have not led a great life and I fail a lot and I lose a lot and I need to seriously turn it around. In case anyone can't guess, yeah, I am one of those kids who grew up in a very angry abusive household and it did mess me up. I never learned how to be happy or even content. My mother died a few years ago and I was feeling miserable for a long time. Had enough. Will make changes, starting tonight.
I made a motivational note, printed it, and taped it to the inside of my front door so I see it constantly. Gonna sit down and watch Marty cuz I've been putting that off for 20 years. I already tossed out the junk food in my house. I'm going to get a good nights sleep and tomorrow start a real exercise program. After my cardio I will head to the grocery store and buy healthy stuff. No more feel-good crap like candy and chips. I also plan to engage in my community more. And from now I on will block or push out or ignore negative thoughts. I will try to say multiple positive things about myself and the world every day. That probably means a lot less online time, and definitely means avoiding politics.
Thanks for letting me rant, I needed it.
Also for those of you who are curious as to WHY the generation is so messed up, there's a really good book I found at the library which explains a lot. And its also available online.
https://www.amazon.com/Self-Esteem-Trap-Confident-Compassionate-Self-Importance/dp/0316013129
First half of the book discusses societal changes starting with the Baby Boomers. Then it moves on to more progressive, helpful advice for people who want to improve their lives and their kids lives. I don't have kids (that I know of) but it was enlightening anyways.
An absolute must read for Generation X and probably Generation Y. Even if they aren't parents.
P.S. The Simpsons was great when it was new.

Hey all, I’m trying to lose 10 lbs by October 15 (trip to see family). I tend to do pretty well on days when I’m not at work. But I’m an absolute mess on the days that I do work. 12-hour shifts; high-stress; a lot of “sit and wait” until “oh snap! Things are happening!”. Patients bring us goodie baskets as “Thank yous!”; which has my number one weakness - chocolate. In addition, my clerk has a candy dish.
I psyche myself up in the morning that “Today, I’m going to be good!” And I’m usually good until lunch; then it all goes to shit. I’ll reach for a sweet treat and it’s like the dam broke and I can’t seem to stop stuffing my mouth for the rest of the day. I’m always a lb up on the scale the day after work and then on my off days I’ll go back down. (I know it’s not a true weight gain, it’s just super infuriating to see the number always increase the day after shift.)
I’m conscious to have a decent amount of protein at every meal. I’m working on increasing my veggie intake. The unit is cold, so I reach for herbal tea instead of water.
Reaching out for some positive feedback or camaraderie. Any advice? It’s like I know these things, I know the right things to do, but I’m just having trouble applying it.
Thanks.

You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

The Context:

A user posts to /BoomersBeingFools wondering if boomers don’t eat enough and are “starving” themselves, and by extension pushing their expectations unfairly onto others.
Many users quickly take issue with OOP’s premise. The discussion quickly devolves into multiple slapfights, insults over weight, and the war in Gaza.

The Drama:

Does metabolism change as people age?

People commenting it’s cause they’re older and don’t need to eat as much. Yes, I know that could be a part of it, but let’s be honest, it’s mostly them just being judgy/brainwashed by diet culture/think it’s absurd to spend money on eating out…

"Brainwashed by diet culture" ah so in other words you are obese and need to eat a lot and probably deeply into healthy at any size/fat acceptance.
No they just know they don't need 5000 calori3s a day to exist.

I’m obese for wanting to eat some lunch and dinner? 🤯

No I say that because of "brainwashed by diet culture" there's exactly one group that talks like that.

You must not get out much

[Continued:]

I do actually it's how I maintain not being fat. Limiting calories to under 2500 and being outside moving a lot.

I lost 140 pounds by eating more. 🤷 starving myself led to weight gain.

I'm sure you eat more but less calories in total. No one increases their calories and losses sorry.

You're wrong. Instunted my metabolism and my body was holding on to the weight to protect me.
I was eating skinless baked chicken and plain broccoli for 2 years and could not lose weight. I was sick and exhausted but worked out all the time.
Started eating carbs and the weight came melting off.
Sorry :)

[Continued:]

For sure. Thats why all the body builders are morbidly obese. They eat chicken and broccoli and their body just goes into starvation mode and holds all the fat. Same with like the concentration camps. All those poor morbidly obese starving people. Once we saved them and fed them the weight just shed off. It's the craziest thing.

It's almost like bodies are different, user name doesn't check out, a nerd would know that 🤔

Whatever you need to tell yourself.

[…]

i guess the law of thermodymanics doesnt apply to you.
You should get studied. Defying the laws of thermodynamics is pretty impressive!

[…]

Tell me you see someone fat in the store and cringe inside/judge them for no reason without ever speaking to them without telling me 😂
You dislike/hate fat people for the horrid crime of being fat when they don't think about you at all and haven't ever wronged you in any way at all.
Also, I can tell you have never struggled with your weight in the past due to not giving a shit how hating random people for looking a certain way effects them. That, or you did struggle once, and bought into the haters telling you you were worth less based on the number on the scale, in which case I am sorry you believe that.

Dude I was 350lbs at my heaviest. People love saying "oh he says weightloss is eat less move more? Clearly he wants to genocide fat people" but no that's not it at all. I lost tons and most of the people around me went from morbid obesity to overweight or a normal weight. We changed our lifestyles and got in shape. The people that didn't lose weight claim all kinds of medical issues but none of them changed their diet and not of them want to work out. It's pretty clear how to lose weight. That's all.
No more no less no hate.

Wanna know how I know you're a liar or incredibly ignorant of how you come off?
You say you don't dislike them but make fun of their physical disabilities like it's funny. It's not funny. You're making fun of them. It's not funny to make fun of people for having disabilities or for how they look. You perpetuate hate against them that makes them feel like crap for being alive. I don't care about your spiel about medical issues or dieting in general or the fat acceptance movement. When you make fun of disabled people who have trouble walking i'm going to call you out on it. That's exactly what you did. Whether they're fat or not I refuse to make fun of people for that.

I have never made fun of a single person. Only a movement that claims you can be healthy at any size. You can't be vastly under or over weight and be healthy.

Whatever you say buddy. Keep on making fun of people because they can't walk or cope some more that it wasn't directed at a specific person. Have fun with that.

[Continued:]

Shut the fuck up fatty

Insults are made, ending with accusations of sockpuppeting:

I don't think you realize how pathetic you sound. When my jaw was broken I went 6 weeks without solid food and I'm sitting here rolling my eyes at your propensity for letting your stomach color your opinions of other people. I'd bet dollars to dimes that your body mass index is over 30.

Hey.
You should know:
It costs $0 to not be a dick.

I'll pay that cover charge any day of the week. Especially when I'm dealing with a major league dipshit like [Candy_cane999]
Radagast was brown, nerd.

Wow, you’re disgusting. It’s not that deep

Says the person here gossiping about their relative's metabolism. "Not that deep" lol you made a judgment about an entire generation of people because your family member wasn't hungry..lol fuck off
I bet you are high as a kite right now from all the users here agreeing with you, even if they haven't a fucking clue what they are talking about.
Seriously, though, how fat are you? I'm guessing fat enough that you can't hide that stomach roll when you sit down.

High as a kite? Huh? Relax weirdo, it’s just Reddit

You still haven't told us how fat you are.

Damn this guy hates fat people !

I used to be one.

[Continued:]

So now you just hate fat people for fun?

People with no self control, ESPECIALLY when that self control would benefit their health, are people who are functionally useless as human beings. They are the pieces of shit who would hoard food while everyone else is starving.
It ain't for fun.
Do you comment on Reddit to be an annoying middle child?

Ahhh yes. The fat people are useless excuse. Okay bud have fun out there!

It seems you have to self control over your feelings little guy. Go out there and practice some self control!
Bitter, party of one.

[…]

Get a life, chill

Get a life, chill

Ah yes, the mating call of people who "have lives"...ohhhhhh the irony.

😂sounds like you’re projecting. What’s it like still living in your boomer mom’s basement?

lol "projecting", I see you have your masters in Reddit psychology.

What’s it like still living in your boomer mom’s basement?

Oooooof, sounds like someone is...................................................................................projecting.

You do realize calling someone fat is the easiest most insecure insult to throw out there. Classic textbook. Hypocrite

I used to be fat as fuck, 270lbs at 5'10. I'll judge you fatties all I damn well please.
You keep avoiding answering the question. You're a landwhale, aren't you?

Ahha! There it is. It’s because you hate yourself. Hope you’re in therapy

[Continued:]

The more you avoid this the more we know what kind of person we are dealing with.
You talk shit about people who have self control to excuse how fat and disgusting you are.

[…]

Dude why admit that, all you are showing is that you had become really fat, and rather than learn a healthy relationship with food even at that extreme point, you just chose to hate food in general. You took the easy way out because nobody ever taught you portion control. Your loss I guess.

I admit it because I was raised in a home where I couldn't get up until my plate was clean and my mother made sure there were never leftovers that way. I admit it because it is the truth and I don't lie or omit details to make myself sound better. I admit it to show I can relate to being a fatfuck. I admit it because being fat is a choice.
”why would you say something true about yourself!?" - if that isn't Reddit-in-a-nutshell I don't know what is.

I'm just saying it makes you look like you just hated yourself and were pushing that onto another person that may or may not have a healthier relationship with food than you, that's all.

[…]

They didn't answer did they?

After several attempts they've avoided even talking about their fat stores and are now trying the victim angle.

No doubt. Fatty McFat Fat can't comprehend people not being addicted to constant feedings.
Reddit in a nutshell.

Bro's talking to himself on an alt ​

Then, there’s this:

OP is a fat fuck

As a former fatass this was my immediate thought

I knew as soon as he said road trip to Florida

For wanting lunch and dinner? You’re sick
They’re someone whos whole identity is shoving food in their mouth. Look at their username

Eat shit.

One user thinks they’re speaking uncomfortable truths:

If StandardSafe isn’t willing to say it again, I will: grow up and get over it. 99% of the people who say they “aren’t heavy” actually are, your dad was probably just being a concerned parent. “unhealthy relationship with food”, LMAO. A first-world problem for sure

No, he was just a bully and abusive. But thanks for playing.
That’s a really weird thing to say to a stranger, dude
You ok bro? Did that make you feel good about yourself? To insult a stranger because you personally didn’t have to deal with abuse? Or let me guess, you did, but it made you a “strong man” who knows what’s best for everyone.
You don’t know me. You have no idea what my childhood and young adulthood was like and maybe it sounds like a “first world problem” (which by the way, is so fucking dismissive and gross to say to people when they an issue) to you, but for me it became an eating disorder that I still struggle with in my 40s.
I’m going to try to say this as politely as I can, please fuck off into the sun with your bullshit and go troll somewhere else. You’re an asshole who seems to get off on insulting people to get your pathetic dick hard. I hope you don’t have kids because I worry if you do how fucked up they are and if you’re married I feel terrible for your wife. But let’s be honest, you’re a sad, lonely, angry man who has nothing better to do.
Dumbass takes like this are part of the reason people develop eating disorders on both ends of the spectrum.
You're gonna tell me someone who is suffering from Anorexia/Bulimia just needs to "grow up and get over it"?
You need to grow up and take a biology class.

When did the commenter say she had anorexia/bulimia? Those are actual eating disorders…she just said she eats very little and blames her dad.
A biology class, really? Psychology sounds more like it. Or are you telling me you learned about eating disorders in a bio class? Where was that, at some sort of school that gives out certificates in self-actualization or holistic-healing?

Sorry -- from what school did you get a psychology degree that allows you to label Anoerixa/Bulimia as "actual" eating disorders but not what OP described?

The school of hard knocks 😂 he’s so superior to us that he can diagnose a stranger through the internet on Reddit based on a paragraph that seemed to make him bigly angry.
He’s just a sad man who needs to get off by insulting people. He can go live that life and we’ll be over on this said being human to each other.

Finally, the war in Gaza is brought up for some reason:

You know that on the other side of the apartheid wall Israel set up there are thousands of people who had access to the Dead Sea (and their homes), that was changed by the establishment of Israel. Millions of people around the world are coming to the decision to boycott any company that supports the Israeli Apartheid Occupation. Millions are urging their universities and employers to divest any money and programs with the genocidal force that is Israel. I urge you and your family to take a hard look at yourselves and learn what Israel really is made of. Then the logical decision will be to never visit or spend a dime in Israel until their genocide and apartheid ends. Ty

Take a walk off a short pier.

This response is unhinged.
“Learn about an ongoing genocide, with bombs falling through the air as we speak, that you knowingly or unknowingly support, that we can do something about”
“Your response”
Please just look someone in the eyes today and remember what it means to be a human. Each of us is a library of life, and we’re constantly diminishing the value of each other as “enemies”.
I’d rather that than share air with someone who supports the ongoing genocide. Not for me, not for you, but for the kids and our collective humanity: please learn something new today.

You’re supporting the death of my family in Israel. Seriously, you’re a PoS

Before Israel was, there was Palestine. Palestine was for all. Muslims, Christians, and Jewish families all lived together. We all visited Jerusalem.
When Israel decided that only Jewish people would now be allowed in to these random borders drawn over Palestine, well, that should come off as racist. Now the Christian and Muslim Palestinians had their villages raided and their women raped by a well funded militia, before it became the IDF. This terrorised the Palestinians that lived in their homes, so they ran.
Then these homes were empty.
The land without people for the People without a land. Fabulous. Absolutely fabulous. The people that were born there were displaced by a terrorist militia, and now it was a land magically without a people.
And your family came in, and settled in “Israel”. A family out there has the keys to the very home your family lives in in Israel, although you’ve probably changed the locks by now.
But for generations this land fed them and protected them from the elements. All of a sudden it’s yours?
And the people Israel oppresses, the thousands of Palestinians that are in prison with no trial. Children and women Palestinians have been taken captive for over 70 years!! Where’s the outrage?
Are we not human?
When we say free Palestine from the river to the sea. It’s for everybody. Come by and buy my home. But please don’t show up with an armed force ready to exterminate me for refusing you the home my forefathers have called their own.
TLDR Israel is the fire nation in avatar the last airbender.
The best way I can put it is.. if a bunch of armed chickens showed up and kicked you and your family out of their homes, one day you might want to fight those armed chickens back instead of being homeless. Israel are the armed chickens

The Flairs:

• “We boomers don’t hungry as often as you gamers”
  
• “ok nerdguy 👍🏼”
  
• “Radagast was brown, nerd.”
  

Sites from Google will frequently claim this, but I also see people saying that it's not true and if variegation is lost, it's just due to how the stem progresses.
My monstera albo is losing it's variagation on the top nodes. I think it is true that it's not getting enough light (I've purchased a new light for it) but I'm now unsure if I should be cutting it back so it branches from a different point in the stem, or if its variegation will return.
The stem at the top no longer looks like candy cane, whereas there's a lot more visible white in the stem lower down.
Thanks!

Hi there, so I have quit sugar several times, the last time was when I did the Whole 30 from nov 2022 to April 2023. I noticed that I started to get too thin and was losing muscle. I began watching YT videos on strength training and body building content where they strongly advocate eating sugars (often process sugars like cereal) post work out to "get bigger" and replenish your glycogen stores post workout. This led me down a dark path with sugar and by October 2023 I was back to overeating sugar. I steadily binged on sugar from Oct 2023 to current, with today being day two of no added sugar. I would eat chocolate candies at the office, eat several granola bars (fig bars), then stopped at the grocery store and get pastries for dinner. I stopped eating most fruits, veg, and protein and would just eat sugar all day. I know how bad this is.
I have a history of alcoholism and I quit drinking in 2018 when I found out I was accepted into Master's program and was getting my life together. What currently prevents me from drinking is knowing that if I pick up the bottle, I would lose everything. I wouldn't be able to work and support myself and my drinking would absolutely culminate in my losing my license and everything I have worked so hard for. I know this mentality doesn't work for everyone, but it works for me, I follow the "only one drop" recovery model and yes I know some view this as a self fulfilling prophecy, however it works for me. With sugar, it's doesn't have the same gravity and it can be easy to justify. If I pick up a hersey's kiss it likely won't culminate in me losing everything, therefore I need help thinking of what I have to lose if I relapse on sugar. I think about being so grumpy and depressed that it's hard to function and I could eventually start missing work, I think of diabetes, heart disease, losing limbs, I think of how I isolate when I feel self conscious, fat and bloated, I think of money wasted on sugar, how sick and sad I feel after sugar, but I feel like I am missing something. What are your whys for quitting and sustaining your sobriety? Is there something I am missing?

I’ve loved sugar my whole life, my dad loved sugar, both my grandparents loved sugar. I’ve probably eaten candy or sweets of some kind every day for over a year. No I’m not horribly out of shape, although I am trying to lose a few pounds.
Mostly I just hate craving sugar all of the time. For me it’s mostly candy, but I’ll find myself trying to stop and I controllably eating it. I’ve tried going cold turkey, I’ve tried slowly scaling back, I’ve tried not having any in the home, or only having stuff I have to bake but none of it seems to work. I feel so ashamed and stuck. I’ve never been addicted to anything, not nicotine, alcohol nothing, except sugar which I can’t seem to kick or let alone find some control over. Even if I was just eating it once a week I would feel more confident but right now I just don’t feel like I have any willpower whatsoever.
I feel like if I can’t get this under control then I’m never going to be able to meet and maintain my weight loss goals let alone live a happy and healthy lifestyle. I’ve taken steps to be eating organic Whole Foods thinking that would help but it really hasn’t, my cravings are still as prevalent as ever and no matter how hard I tell myself no, I just find myself binging later.
Any tips or tricks would be so appreciated. I hate feeling this uncontrollable urge and need to eat sugar. I wish I could just be one of those people that easily prioritizes health and not the incessant cravings 😭

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

For my friends who are using this exclusively for weight loss, keep in mind that many side affects you may be feeling, (weakness, dizziness, feeling faint.etc) can be hypoglycemic reactions due to the fact that this medication will be lowering your already normal blood sugar. A helpful little tip (that seems like common sense but you never know), is to carry around some candy with you! Just something small- like a little box of nerds, or some sweet tarts. Even glucose tablets. I know it feels counter productive to eat sweets while trying to lose weight, but it’s not healthy to be feeling those things all the time! I’m not talking about gorging on a box of chocolates- just a couple candies. I’ve recently seen quite a few posts of people complaining/looking for solutions to those kinds of symptoms so I just thought I’d offer my two cents.

I'm an 18 year old girl and I'm obese, I'd love to lose weight. Fyi I'm currently in emdr therapy for childhood trauma and I'm autistic.
Normally I walk 1 hour with the dog each day, but right now I'm so tired because of therapy. I'm still walking everyday, but only for like 15 minutes. I often find myself eating candy or something if I don't want to. If I say no to a cookie or a sweet, my parents think I'm punishing myself or that I'm restricting because of my mental health.
I have trouble eating fruit because of it's texture(love the taste though). Tbh when I see thin people I get a bit jealous, they can wear such beatifull clothes and they don't have to order it from one store online. And they can swim, when I was little I loved to swim!!! Maybe if I lose weight one day I can swim again.
My mom and I like to play bingo together a few times a week. There are some fun prizes like yarn(I love to crochet) but there also are some snack prizes. Like a small tube of pringles or a few sweets( she makes bags with 5 marshmallows,8 gummy frogs, 8 bananas, or 8 peaches). I have a candy jar in my room and I often find myself snacking while diamondpainting, even if I don't really want to and I don't want it to go to waste if it gets sticky.
I made myself believe that I don't like fashion because I always have to order clothes from one shop.Often times they are ok, but I don't love them.I know I will always be a bit chunky, because thats our posture. I think I got it from my mom, my father is skinny.
2 years ago I went to someone to lose weight, but I got obsessed with it and it negatively impacted my mental health. My psychologist told me to take a break.

F54SW190CW136 I am very new at maintenance but have been doing it successfully for about a month now. It's still definitely not second nature yet. What I've been doing is one day eating basically what I want. Nothing terrible like candy and garbage but more like a burger with the bun instead of without, that sort of thing. Then the next two days eat like I want to lose and then back to "normal food" for a day.
Is this how maintenance is done? Is this what I do for the rest of my life?
How do others do it?

So, some back story. I have been told by every OBGYN I have ever gone to that I'm "estrogen dominant" and "you have too much estrogen". I also was told that I have endometriosis and not PCOS because my ultrasounds are clear every time.
I had a salpingectomy in December and while doing my surgery my surgeon said there was no endometriosis present. I was shocked. I felt like nothing at that point made sense since my periods are atrocious and I eat tylenol like candy while I'm on my period because of how bad my cramps are (bent over in pain and on the verge of puking for the first 48-72 hours).
I decided to take matters in to my own hands and order a hormone test from a third party because my doctors are idiots and I wanted answers. Low and behold my testosterone is high (83 ng/dl). I reached out to my surgeon who told me it could be PCOS but I don't need to come in until December for my annual (because apparently getting a diagnosis isnt important 🙄)
I have a new OBGYN I'm seeing in July and I want to go in armed with information and questions to get a diagnosis. Any advice on what I should bring in and what I should ask for? Should I ask for a referral to a endocrinologist?
My symptoms:
-Very heavy periods -Terrible cramps -acne flair ups (but for the most part clear skin) -dark hair above my lip and on my neck -excessive weight gain (pretty even across my body but I'm the heaviest I have ever been) -hard time losing weight -IBS symptoms
Also it should be noted that I cannot be on birth control as it makes me want to self harm. I have tried every method (pill, ring, IUD, implant, patch, depo) and they all make me feel horrible.

Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Brick, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott
Episode 8: One Flu Over the Cuckoos
"Last time, on Total Drama Action! Imprisoned in a world they didn't create. Forced to ingest deadly foods, and even to taste them twice!"
"Nonetheless, the two courageous teams clawed their way to freedom! And... a lonely Chef made a new friend."
"But prison is no place for law abiding citizens. Even athletic ones. So at the end of the day, it was goodbye, Sky, hello... Izzy?" The camera panned back to show Chris lounging in the control tent. "Yeah. Izzy. That girl is eight shades of nutty. Will she drive everyone else crazy too?"
The scene flashed to a close-up of Chris standing in front of the cast trailers, the camera pulling back with each word of the show's title. "Find out now, on Total! Drama! Action!"
(Theme Song)
The scene faded in to a shot of an owl hooting on a tree branch at night until a few sparks erupted from it and its head popped off on a spring. The camera panned down and to the left, catching the castmates as they made their way back to their trailers; the Gaffers were in front, and the Grips were in the back, though Brick was noticeably absent.
“Everything is so much smaller than I remembered!” Izzy said while looking around.
"I can't believe that you guys eliminated Sky," Chase said as the camera focused on the Gaffers. "She would have continued to help carry us to victory if she was still here."
“I remember that bush! I remember that tree!” Izzy continued to observe her surroundings until she tripped onto the floor, only to get back up. “Oh, I remember that rock! Hey rock!”
“You know,” Scott spoke up, “with Sky gone and Izzy being back, it's like we didn't lose a player.”
“That may be because the teams are still evenly matched,” MK claimed.
"Good night everybody," Millie told the contestants in a tired tone as she took the steps up to the girls' trailer. "I really need to get some rest." She grabbed the door handle and habitually moved to open it, but it didn't budge and she slammed face-first into it.
"First they lock us in," Ripper said as the camera cut over to him pulling on the door handle of the guys' trailer, "and now they're locking us out!" He grunted as he kept trying to open it, but he failed to move it at all.
"Wait, wait," Izzy said from off-screen, "let me try it!" Ripper quickly stepped aside just as Izzy rammed the door and bounced off of it without making a dent.
A loud siren started up as tense music began to play in the background.
“Cops!!!” Izzy panicked soon after getting up and ducked out of the way.
Seconds later, an ambulance drove past, stopping in front of them just long enough for the back doors to open and a covered stretcher to fall out. Siren still blaring, the ambulance drove off and the castmates hesitantly approached its former cargo.
"What is that? A dead body?" Anne Maria asked nervously.
"Or an undead body," Ripper guessed.
Whatever was on the stretcher sat up, and the cover fell away to reveal Chris McLean lying on a colorful stack of books. The castmates gasped and murmured at the dazed-looking host. "...Boo!" the handsome man said suddenly, earning a blank look from MK.
The host then cleared his throat. "Calm yourselves. No one's dead yet," he said with a smile, holding up one of the books. "I'm here to prep you plucky ducks for our most awesome challenge yet! These textbooks hold the sum total of eight years of med school, and each one of you gets one," he explained before tossing the book in his hand to Anne Maria who raised an eyebrow once she caught it, "cause tomorrow, we're gonna play Doctor!" A few deep and tense notes played as Anne Maria rolled her eyes.
Confessional: Anne Maria
"I don't have anything against doctors," Anne Maria confessed. "It is their job to put scalpers and needles onto people, and give advice like “Don't break your leg because you were out late skateboarding,” but playing doctor isn't really in my wheelhouse.”
Confessional: Brick
"If I wanted to, I could be a doctor," Brick explained to the camera. "I've been to the doctor's office countless times because of my many injuries, like a twisted wrist, a joint thumb, bruised ribs, or even my leg getting bit by a dog." He shuddered. “Don't ask. But the military is my top priority.”
Confessionals End
"To win this challenge," Chris said as the footage cut back to him and the castmates, each of whom now held a textbook, "you're gonna want to memorize the entire contents of these textbooks. By morning."
"But it's already late," Millie protested.
"You got that right," Chris answered as a golf cart drove up with a giant pizza slice on the roof and a large stack of pizza boxes in the back. The driver was Chef, who had a pizza delivery hat on. As soon as the cart stopped, Chef got out and carried the comically large stack of pizzas over to Chase. "What med school all-nighter would be complete without pizza?" Chris asked.
Chase was shown dropping his textbook as he accepted the stack in awe, and a harp played in the background as he and Izzy gave it a sniff. He let out an approving sigh as Izzy smiled happily. "Pizza," the daredevil said.
"This has to be a trick," Millie said.
"More like method acting," Chris told them as he walked over to the golf cart and hopped onto the back. "Med school interns consume 850% more pizza than the average human. So, dig in! Cause there's plenty more where that came from!" The cart sputtered away, leaving the castmates by themselves.
Jasmine opened the top box and took out a slice. "Looks okay, smells okay," she said before finally taking a bite. "Tastes...great!"
"How is that even possible?" Anne Maria asked.
The scene flashed over to an unfinished pizza getting tossed into the air, the camera following it as it fell into Brick's hands. The table he was standing at already had four other pizzas on it, and they looked to be complete.
The camera panned right over to Chef with four cooked pizzas at his table as he held a can of parmesan. "Keep 'em comin'," Chef ordered. "I'll add the final cheesy touch," he said deviously while sprinkling the can on one of the pizzas.
"I'm pretty sure my team is going to question where I am," Brick complained.
"Not as long as they're eating, they won't!" Chef got up in Brick's face. "So hush up and spin that dough. Spin like the wind." As Chef went back to his station, the camera zoomed in on Brick's worried face.
The scene flashed to the five Gaffers sitting in chairs by a fire in front of the cast trailers, eating pizza and reading textbooks. The camera focused in on Izzy and Ripper, who were in the two leftmost seats.
"Y'know," Ripper said, "one time me and my brothers ordered ten boxes of pizza in order to see who can eat the most without using their hands." He chuckled. “You should've been there watching us splatter sauce on each other.”
“Let's pretend I was!” Izzy tossed away her book. “Here!” She sprung off her chair, landed next to the pizza box in front of the team, and began to scarf on the pizza without using her hands.
“My three brothers would be jealous to see you do this quicker than them,” Ripper commented.
Grabbing a pizza with her teeth, Izzy started to shake it around like a rabid animal, splattering sauce onto everybody.
“My hat!” MK exclaimed.
“My shirt!” Scott shouted.
“My pizza!” Chase cried out dramatically.
Confessional: Izzy
“I am so glad to be back,” Izzy said. “I was top of my pre-med class before the RCMP started chasing me, so this should be a snap! On the other hand, I'll tone down my impressions since it bothered Ripper the last time I was here, and he's my friend so I'll try to put his feelings into consideration.”
Confessional: Ripper
“It's amazing that Izzy is back in the game, and unlike the first time it happened, I'm around to witness it,” Ripper chimed. “She better not make us call her E-Scope though. That was really bugging me out.”
Confessionals End
The scene moved to the inside of the craft services tent, where four of the Killer Grips were studying at one of the tables. Millie and Anne Maria were on one side of the table, with Justin opposite them and Jasmine standing away from them.
Justin noticed Jasmine's unhappy expression and decided to go over and press the matter. “Is something wrong?” the eye candy asked.
Jasmine was startled by the question and regained her composure. “I'm completely fine. Nothing's bringing me down.”
“Just tell me. I don't blab about secrets,” Justin continued.
“If you must know, Brick's been spending less time with us lately,” Jasmine confessed. “Usually before the challenge, we never even see him.”
“I've noticed as well,” Justin nodded. “And this is bringing you down because?”
“Me and him have a special bond going, and it may lead into something more than that, but how are we supposed to know each other more if he's avoiding us?” Jasmine wondered.
“Brick'll probably explain what's going on to us, but don't badger him,” Justin advised. “It'll most likely cause him to lie.”
“That's a good idea. If there's one thing I do not like, it's when someone is lying to me,” Jasmine admitted.
“Interesting…” Justin mused to himself.
Confessional: Justin
“Jasmine's concern plus Brick's disappearances equals an opportunity for me to cause a little bit of turmoil between them,” Justin calculated. “That way, I could get one of them eliminated with Anne Maria and Millie's help.”
Confessional Ends
"Man, is this pizza delicious or what?" Anne Maria said as she took a bite out of the slice she was holding. "I wish Chef could cook more food like this for us every day."
Jasmine took a bite of her slice and saw Millie focused on reading rather than eating. "Are you not going to nibble at least one slice, Millie?"
Millie looked up from the book she'd been studying and blinked.
Confessional: Millie
"With the challenge that we're going to get, I have to focus on studying all the contexts of that textbook so I won't forget a single detail," Millie told the camera. "And plus, I'm not really a big fan of pizza."
Confessional Ends
A close-up of an open pizza box was shown as Justin reached in to grab one of the last remaining pieces. "If you don't want any pizza, then that means there's more for us," he said.
“Hold on. Brick hasn't had any,” Jasmine interrupted.
"Where is he anyway?" Anne Maria asked.
Brick then peeked out of the counter, and he ducked down, crawled under the table, and popped up in order to act like he just arrived. "Sorry I'm late. I had an urgent bathroom emergency," he said.
"Here's your pizza," Jasmine slid the open box to the end of the table.
Brick picked up a slice, took a bite, and smiled as he chewed it. "My cooking skills are great!"
"I'm stuffed," Anne Maria said as she stood up. "And with tomorrow being a reward challenge and all, I can just go back to my trailer. Good night!" She began to leave.
"I study better when I'm by myself. Nothing personal," Millie told the team and left the tent as well.
Confessional: Jasmine
"I could make them stay," Jasmine said in the make-up trailer, "but there's no point in doing so. Millie is already educated enough to not read the textbook, and Anne Maria is as tough as an untamed crocodile when it comes to talking with her."
Confessional Ends
The scene moved to Anne Maria and Millie as they walked through the film lot to get to their trailer.
"I thought you'd still be studying back at the tent," Anne Maria casted a suspicious look at her teammate. “Why are you following me?”
"I still want to read the textbook. I just want to do it someplace quiet," Millie replied. “What about you?”
“Like I said, I'm going to sleep,” Anne Maria said. “There's no need to give it my all if the challenge won't have an elimination.”
“You may be wrong about that. Chris is very unpredictable when it comes to episodes having eliminations or not,” Millie argued. “Did you at least read some pages of the textbook?”
“Yeah, and I don't want my head to be egg headed like yours is, brainiac,” Anne Maria claimed.
This got a glare from Millie. “Hey, just because I'm smart, doesn't mean I don't have any more depth to me,” the writer scolded.
“If all we're gonna do is argue, then let's keep to ourselves for the rest of the night,” Anne Maria rebutted.
“That's fine by me,” Millie agreed with the tanned girl.
The scene faded forward into a shot of the numbered studios the following day. The camera cut inside, showing the ten castmates lined up in a small room facing a double door, all but Millie and Anne Maria looking exhausted.
"So tired," Jasmine groaned.
"My brain has never been this full," Ripper mumbled.
"You guys should've turned in for the night like I did if you didn't wanna look like zombies," Anne Maria stated, making the others groan at her.
"Morning, competitors!" Chris said in a chipper tone as he slid in through the door. "Or should I say...DOCTORS!" He pulled out a large gun from behind his back, eliciting a gasp from the teens as he pointed it at them. He fired it at them starting with the Gaffers, and the camera focused on Izzy and Scott at the far end of the line as stethoscopes and reflector headband landed on them. Chase, MK, and Ripper were the next to get hit and MK fell to the ground after impact. Brick and Millie followed, then Anne Maria, Jasmine, and Justin.
"Ready for today's big challenge?" Chris asked them with a smile.
“We pulled an all-nighter studying for this," Scott grunted. "Why wouldn't we all be?"
"If only teenagers were as dedicated to their studies as you guys are!" Chris said with a light laugh. "Let's take it inside." He started backing into the room he'd come out of, the castmates following after him.
The camera cut to a close-up of a large compound stage light before zooming out to show the cast assembled in a large room, each team standing by a large green vat of bubbling slime, a ladder leading up to a high dive, and a sort of slanted platform with a person-shaped indent in it.
"Today's challenge is called," Chris said as the background music became low and tense, "Visiting Hours. And only one member of the winning team will get to enjoy the reward." A few drum beats played, and the camera panned over to the Grips on the left.
"Hold up," Anne Maria asked. "Why're we doing this in teams if only one of us gets to win?"
"I guess it's one for all and all for one this time," Jasmine said.
"But who gets to be the one?" Brick wondered aloud.
"Let's leave it to the one who contributes the most," Millie told them.
Confessional: Millie
"Which will likely be me," Millie added in the confessional trailer.
Confessional Ends
"So what is the reward, Chris?" Chase asked.
"You're very perceptive, Chase," Chris told him. "Let's see if that helps you and your team assemble a CADAVER!" A game show jingle played as he made the announcement.
"You're talking about a dead body, right?" Izzy asked.
"No," Chris corrected as the game show jingle played again, "I'm talking about a giant dead body!" The shot zoomed out further than it had before, revealing that the slanted platforms were attached to chains leading up to a reel in the ceiling and two strange devices on mounted either side just below.
"These tanks contain the dismembered parts of two identical cadavers," he explained over an elevator music-like tune. "Each player will climb their respective team ladder, strap on the bungee cord," the shot cut from his close-up to a bungee harness dangling in front of the Gaffers' diving board, "and jump into the tank with hopes of retrieving a body part." The camera panned down to the tank, then over to the slanted platform. "Any parts you find will be snapped in place on the platforms. Use those chains to raise them all the way to the roof," he continued as the camera followed the chain up to the strange device on either side of the gap in the ceiling as a jolt of electricity stream between them, "where they'll be reanimated by a blast of lightning!"
"First team to bring a Franken-Chris back to life wins," the host told them. "First crack goes to the team who can tell me how to treat someone with a bean stuck up their nose." He tapped his nose, and the camera panned over to the Gaffers.
MK was the first to open her mouth. "Administer two ccs of pain meds and probe the affected area with a sterile swab."
"Correctomundo!" Chris said, giving her a pair of finger pistols.
"Yes!" MK cheered.
The footage flashed forward to the AV girl on top of her team's diving board, the bungee harness already secured. She jumped off with a scream and plunged into the vat, popping back up a moment later as she was electrocuted by the electric eel she was now holding. She let the fish go at the peak of her trip back up, and grabbed on to the edge of the diving board. "What the heck was that?!" she asked in shock.
"Oh yeah," Chris said, "I forgot to mention the electric eels. Three zaps for each turn and you're out!"
With a hesitant look on her face, MK allowed herself to drop back into the vat. She emerged holding a grayish and slime-covered leg. "Got it!" she called as the camera cut to Ripper who was standing by the Gaffers' platform with his arms out to catch. He caught the limb, then turned around and fit it into place.
"Okay, next question!" Chris announced. "Your patient has an itchy red inflammation on their butt! Diagnosis?"
"Diaper rash," Brick spoke up first. "Apply salve repeatedly to achieve humectant dispersion."
"Yes!" Chris said, and Brick smiled.
The footage cut forward to him diving off the board and into the vat. He sprung back out holding an eel, and it shocked him. "Sorry!" he said before plunging back down. He came back up a second time, now holding two eels. "Sorry again!" he told them, falling once more after getting shocked. He popped out holding a hand, which he quickly tossed to his team.
"Don't let it touch my hair!" Justin fumbled with the hand a few times before tossing it over to Jasmine, who rolled her eyes and put it in the right-hand slot.
"Next question!" Chris said. "Your patient's got a white tongue, red eyes, and they're oozing gooey crud! Diagnosis?"
"If I'm not wrong, that should be Pinkus Eyeicus," Chase answered. "Treat with two rounds of floppity jibbits."
"Absolutely correct!" Chris told him. The camera zoomed in on him as he slyly added "I messed around with some of the terms in the textbook."
Chase looked down at the vat, then jumped. He fell without a sound, but when he came back up with an eel in each hand, he shrieked and got electrocuted. He plunged back down, and this time came up with another leg. "Hey, I got one this time!" he said with a smile before tossing the limb over to Scott.
Scott jumped for it, then turned around and slammed it into place.
"Smells like ear wax?" Chris asked next, rushing up to Jasmine with a grin on his face.
"Pineapple-itis," Jasmine answered before low-fiving the host.
Jasmine was shown jumping down, and sprung back up to diving board-level seconds later with three eels on her body; she screamed as she was shocked.
"Fur between the toes?" Chris asked, bending down to point at his bare feet, one of which had a tuft of brown hair growing out of it.
"Stick two horse feathers up the whizzbang!" Izzy answered when the host turned to her.
Izzy was shown dropping into the vat and coming back up with a torso and a smile on her face.
A montage of parts getting added was shown next. Millie was first, putting a leg into her team's platform. Second was Chase, slotting one of his team's arms in. Brick added a waist for the Grips, and the clips transitioned to other parts of the challenge.
"Waka-waka two-by-four!" Scott answered.
Anne Maria was shown listening to Chris's chest with her stethoscope before enthusiastically saying "Sissypants McGee!" to the host's brief approval and sudden discomfort.
Ripper was shown trying to strangle one of the eels as it shocked him, then Justin was shown being electrocuted thrice by the eels before eventually holding up a Chris head. He tossed it to Anne Maria, who was sitting on Jasmine's shoulders, and the two turned around to put the piece in – all they were missing now was the left arm and hand.
"The Grips ahead by...a head!" Chris announced, the camera cutting over to the Gaffers' platform and the five teens giving it nervous, annoyed, and uncertain looks – aside from the head, all they were missing was the right arm and hand.
"Alright Gaffers, next question!" the host said as he slid over to the other team. "Your patient's feeling tired, has spongy gums, and a bunch of spots on their thighs. Diagnosis?"
"Scurvy," Ripper said. "Treated with an increase of dietary vitamin C."
"Correct!" Chris announced excitedly.
The footage cut forward, focusing on the Gaffers' vat as Ripper dived into it. He emerged moments later with his team's hand, and threw it over to Izzy who quickly put it into place.
Confessional: Ripper
“I'm not sure if what we studied are actually real life symptoms and diagnoses, but who am I to know?” Ripper shrugged uncaringly. “I'm not one to study for this sort of stuff unless there's a million dollars on the line.”
Confessional Ends
Another skip forward showed Millie plunging into the vat and coming back out with the arm. "Alright, last piece coming your way!" she said excitedly before tossing it to her off-screen teammates.
It was Justin who caught the piece and put it into the only remaining indentation on the platform. "The Grips have their cadaver!" Chris announced in a close-up. "Time to start yanking some chain, and be quick about it 'cause the Gaffers are right behind you!"
Jasmine and Brick began to pull on their team's chain while Anne Maria moved the slanted scaffold out from under the platform and Justin and Millie watched in anticipation as the cadaver-containing platform was rising quickly.
The camera cut over to the Gaffers as Izzy dangled from the bungee harness covered in slime. “I got it! I got it!” She tossed the Chris head over to MK.
MK stopped in front of the platform and drew back her arm, tossing it up to Chase who had climbed the back of the platform in preparation. The daredevil caught it and slotted the part in, then dropped to the ground.
"Now we pull!" MK ordered as Chase joined Ripper and Scott at the chain.
"Heave!" Ripper said as the three started to pull in rhythm. "Ho! Heave!"
"The Gaffers are still in this," Chris told the camera in a close-up. "Whose cadaver will hit the roof first?" he asked with a shrug. "Make sure you come back for all the Total! Drama! Action!" he finished excitedly.
(Commercial Break)