jet120

Changes to our reality

My step-daughter was graduating college, so we arrived to take part in the festivities. But she was not feeling very festive.

It seems that her landlord was keeping her security deposit because she had failed to notify the management that she would not be renewing her lease in writing 90 days in advance. However, at the beginning of her final semester the landlord did ask if she were graduating and vacating the apartment, to which she replied she was.

We found out quickly that this was a standard procedure with this particular landlord, and many students before had lost their deposits that way.

I called the management office and made an appointment for that afternoon. My last name is different from that of my step-daughter, so there was no tip off. I told my step-daughter to let me do the talking and not to react to anything I was about to say.

We both arrived for the appointment, and the manager of the complex was surprised to see my step-daughter accompanying me.

I began with “My name is TC, and I am representing Miss G.,” never once saying I was an attorney or a solicitor, but if she got that impression it was not my fault.

I continued “According to Texas Revised Statute 1820 a verbal face-to-face notification of termination of lease is all that it required to end a lease. Your refusal to return said deposit is actionable and will result in a filing.”

My step-daughter shot a puzzled look at me.

The manager mumbled something and said she was late for a meeting and did not have time to continue with us. She promptly left her office.

My step-daughter was visibly upset and asked if we failed. I told her we got her attention.

We returned to her apartment, and I called the management office a few minutes later to ask if the manager was in. I was told she was on a phone call at the moment.

I returned to the office and asked to see her. The front desk said they would check to see if she was in. Five minutes later front desk returned and said she was not available. I told her I would wait until she was. A half hour later they informed me she was gone for the day.

I asked if she would be in tomorrow. They said they did not know. I told them I will return at 8:00 a.m. and wait for her.

My daughter got her deposit back. Not only that but she told a friend what happened. Her friend happened to work in the legal services department for the university. An investigation of the management company found that their practices were not entirely legal. I don’t know if restitution was made of if there was a change in management, but if felt good to help draw a spotlight on bad people.

Wedding Gets CALLED OFF After Fiancée Does This To Her Husband

THE ALIENS

Written in response to: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.

Lily Finch

They sat around a campfire. They were all about the same age, and Dale had invited them to his family’s cottage for the long weekend. They were in the woods, off the beaten path, away from most other campers except for a few other cabins. Some of the neighbours barely get out in the summer now that they are all older and their children and grandchildren live in other areas of the country. So their cottages sat vacant most of the time.Scott, Corey, and Mary were all busy preparing the food and helping to open the cabin and get the fire going, as that was the only source of heat in the place. They knew this weekend was going to be epic; they were all space enthusiasts, as were Dale’s relatives, who had all of the state-of-the-art equipment necessary to see the night sky. Complete with an observation deck.As they sat down to eat their dinner, a red dot-like object moved across the sky that caught all of their attention. They hurriedly ate and then moved to their telescopes to catch a better view and a closer look.“Whoa, what do you make of that?” asked Corey.“I don’t know what to think,” Mary responded.“Maybe it’s just the Air Force running a recon,” suggested Scott.“Yeah, that’s got to be it,” Dale agreed.They all looked at each other without saying a word. The red lights’ glowing nature kept them observing the lights for a little while longer. Then Scott and Corey volunteered to clean up the dishes so that Dale and Mary were free to skinny dip. An arrangement that Dale made with the two fellas earlier, unbeknownst to Mary.So, when he asked, “Anyone up for a swim?” He knew it would be just him and her.Dale gave Mary a look like, Well, are you coming? Which she smiled at and gladly went along with.They headed to the dockside, quickly stripped and dove in. Dale suggested they swim to Langford’s dock first and back, then head to Giroux’s dock. All in all, it was about an hour-long swim and not for the faint of heart. Dale had it in his mind that he would somehow save Mary and they would become a couple by the end of the weekend because of this swim. He smiled to himself.Mary, who had been swimming since she was five in lessons, had been swimming lengths for the last five years in a row. She had stamina, strength, and survival skills. She was not afraid of a little cold water or moonlight swimming.“We usually head from their dock to ours, then back, and then to theirs and back. You game?” He asked her.“Sure.” It sounded great for a workout. She thought.When they set off, she allowed Dale to take the lead. She sensed that his pace was too fast and that his stamina would run out too quickly to sustain it. After about twenty-five minutes or so, she saw that Dale was not as accurate with his strokes, nor were they as powerful. She kept a close eye on him.When she saw his head go underwater, she moved with precision to get to where he went down. She dove deep and touched the top of his head. She reached with her might and grabbed hold, being careful not to blow all the energy in her tank. Once they surfaced, she began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She listened for a breath but realised she needed to do CPR. She floated his body to the shoreline. If not for the pale moonlight, she would never have been able to see him and save his life.On the darker side of Langford’s dock, she laid him out straight in the water. Dale had looked better, she thought.The boys in the cabin were focused again on the red lights in the sky that were steadily getting closer to their telescopes.Finally, the ship landed right in front of the cabin on the lake. Afraid but intrigued, the boys raced to the dock, where they saw Dale and Mary’s clothes. Due to their disappearance, they assumed that the ship had taken them. They were surprised when two beings got out and had their hands raised high in the air.

Corey asked, “Do you come in peace?”

“Us? Come in peace?” Repeated the creature.

“Yes. We are a peaceful civilization for the most part,” Scott said. “We don’t want any trouble with you two,” he stated.

The creatures laughed and asked, “Are you two serious?”

Corey looked at Scott, then back at the creatures, and said, “Yes, we are. Why do you think we wouldn’t be? And why do you ask?”

The taller one said, “You really are serious, aren’t you?”

Then the other one said, “You truly don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Asked Scott. He was beginning to become agitated.

“We stopped here because our ship is out of fuel. We just need your help.” The tall one demanded

“Oh, well, how would we know that then?” Asked Corey.

“Yes, I suppose you are correct,” said the shorter one.

“What kind of fuel do you need? Maybe we have some,” Scott offered.

“We run on pine needles,” they said in unison.

“Well, there is no shortage of those around. Help yourselves. Don’t be shy. And let us know if you need anything else. Good luck to you both getting back home,” Corey stated.

The two beings looked at one another in amazement. Then they thanked the boys and went about their business.

While searching for their pine needles, the two beings talked with each other. They were searching near the Langford cabin, within earshot of Mary and Dale. The two of them were underneath the dock, remaining as quiet as church mice so they could listen in on the beings’ conversation.

“I can’t believe they didn’t know this used to be our planet, and they conquered us through brutal combat as the aliens!” Said the tall one.

“Yes, it would seem their history books don’t reflect their brutal takeover of our kind and our banishment from our beautiful planet that they have managed to destroy,” responded the shorter one.

“Of course, these invaders disrespected this planet, robbing it of its natural resources and breaking down the ozone layer at too great a speed for it to handle. They are the dirtiest aliens we’ve ever encountered. But, this place has always been a safe haven for us on this planet. Dale’s family has always been an ally. I wonder why they didn’t share the book with Dale?” Asked the taller one.

“Yes, that is odd. Speaking of Dale was one of those two boys Dale?”

“No. They told us he’d be naked as a jaybird when we arrived, don’t you remember?”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

Dale, hearing this, emerged from the water.

“Hello. I’m Dale. Are you looking for me? How can I help you?” Dale asked.

“Dale, you must tell every one of your species that your kind are the aliens who safely arrived on Earth so many millennia ago. And that they’ve got it all wrong. We are not aggressive at all. We just want to get along and return to our home planet,” said the shorter one.

“Would that be so wrong?” Asked the shorter one.

“I’d be happy to do that, but without anything to support what you are saying, nobody would ever believe me. That is the truth. Even if I believe what you are telling me,” Dale said.

“There’s a book of our history and your invasion, and then your history under the cabin in a dry crawl space. Everything will be revealed there within the pages.”

As Mary got Dale back to their dock, she called the boys. Then she got busy again with CPR. She feared that he may never regain consciousness again, but she kept up with the CPR. Scott and Corey were ready to finish her off with the compressions, but Dale began to cough and sputter like the backfire of an old car. The colour returned to his face when his breath returned to normal rhythms.

Before the evening was over, Dale took a lantern and went underneath the cabin, where he found a dry crawl space. It was full of many items that were of interest to keys of the past. But the most important item was the history of the great invasion of the Earth.

Dale’s mouth fell open as his face paled, and the shock took over his body.

The End

Nuevo Cubano Chicken
with Spanish Olive Picadillo Salsa

Nuevo Cubano Chicken

Prep: 20 min | Cook: 25 min | Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 4 (4 to 5 ounce) boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
  • 1 tablespoon Jamaican or Caribbean jerk seasoning
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 1 red or green bell pepper, chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 (10 ounce) can diced tomatoes and green chilies, undrained
  • 3/4 cup halved Lindsay® Pimiento Stuffed Spanish Manzanilla Olives
  • 1/2 cup golden or dark raisins
  • 1 tablespoon drained Lindsay® capers
  • 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
  • Optional toppings: minced plum tomato, chopped fresh basil

Instructions

  1. Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat until hot.
  2. Add chicken; sprinkle half of the jerk seasoning over chicken. Cook for 4 minutes.
  3. Turn; sprinkle remaining jerk seasoning over chicken. Continue to cook for 4 minutes. Transfer to a plate; set aside.
  4. Add onion, bell pepper and garlic to same skillet; cook for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.
  5. Add tomatoes, olives, raisins, capers and Worcestershire sauce. Increase heat to medium-high and simmer 5 minutes.
  6. Return chicken to skillet, turning to coat. Continue cooking until chicken is no longer pink in center, about 5 minutes.
  7. Transfer chicken to serving plates; top with olive mixture and serve with desired toppings.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories: 326 Calories from fat: 109 Total fat: 12g Monounsaturated fat: 8g Cholesterol: 66mg Sodium: 956mg Total Carbohydrates: 28g Dietary Fiber: 4g Protein: 28g

Attribution

Recipe and photo used with permission from: Lindsay Olives – Bell-Carter Foods

The Fall of America’s Malls | How a Retail Empire Collapsed Into Ruins

Pictures

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Loyalty Test

What a Dilemma🤔🤔🤔🤔

India needs BRICS because India needs Russia

Russia provides Crude Oil to India at an average of between $ 46-$53 per Barrel versus $ 65–69 per Barrel of market rate

Only one condition

You must pay in RMB or Ruble or AED since Dollar Payments won’t reach us and Rupee Payments can’t be used too much

India therefore buys RMB from China for the US Dollar and pays in RMB

India buys AED and HKD and pays in AED and HKD

India pays for part of its steel from China in HKD

This helps India a lot in import bills, helps build up forex reserves that touch the equivalent of $ 700 Billion and help improve the contribution of Trade in GDP and bring down inflation due to lower wholesale costs (Definitely not 1% but around 3% making the real growth 5.8% instead of 7.8%)

India depends on Russia for Defense

India imports a lot of Russian Technology through License and End Use Agreements for the top weapons

  • Migs
  • Sukhois
  • Brahmos
  • S-400
  • Akash Missiles (Homing Technology)
  • Agni V (Avionics)

India depends on Russia for Geopolitics

Russia helps India, Pakistan and China maintain a fragile peace as a common friend

Russia JUST agreed to sell 4.5 Million Tonnes of Wheat to Pakistan for 50% lower price (In RMB) to help with their floods

Russia has no Civilization based ideology like China or Hegemony like US

So if Russia wants a strong BRICS, INDIA must remain in BRICS unless either Russia agrees to allow India to leave BRICS or Russia also leaves BRICS which looks highly improbable


India needs the US too badly

The entire IT Industry and Service Industry is US Oriented with nearly 60% revenue generated by US related contracts

All the technology platforms, licensing, software, hardware in India has 30% to 100% US Technology

And almost ₹500 Lakh Crore in Western Dollar Held Accounts by 1% of the Indian Population


Unfortunately all this can be blamed on the Stupidity of S Jaishankar

Jaishankar ambitiously believed Russia could be gotten to the US Side thanks to Donald Trump and India, Russia and US could form a sort of Axis allowing India to deal with China much better

He was SO against Chinas prosperity that he aimed to use US and Russia together and get India to use US financing to consolidate Bangladesh, Nepal, SL, Maldives and Bhutan

Covid , Biden and the Ukraine conflict ruined everything

Add to this the bizzare policy of Donald J Trump against the whole world

And to his credit, Modi is holding his own and succumbing shamelessly (He will but anyone else would have kowtowed much earlier)

Now India stands in the middle of a nasty conflict between TWO BLOCKS

Russia, China and their influence

Raw materials, Deflation, Limitless Goods, Low Cost Commodities, Geopolitical respect

Versus

US, G7 and the “Coolie” Influence

Software Exports, Technology dependence, Capital Market dependence, The 1% Class and their “Colonial Gene”

Trump isn’t strong enough to Bully either China or Russia

They are too Resilient

So now India is being bullied by US every day


What must India do?

Leaving BRICS is a NO – NO

Leaving an organization as a founding member under threat by US is the WORST FOR INDIAN REPUTATION

Notice how Trump always escalates his demands

In April, he wanted India to lower our tariffs which were extremely high for US Goods

Fair enough

In June, he wanted credit for the Ceasefire between India and Pakistan

Perfectly reasonable

In July, he wanted India for open the Market for GM Grain and Crops which meant another Google like moment where Indian food supply depended on Western IP

Unreasonable

In July end he wanted India to stop buying Russian Oil, again impinging on our Sovereignty

Unreasonable

Now he wants India to leave BRICS

Totally unreasonable

He won’t stop. He will keep making demands to suck India dry and enrich Trump and his associates


So India MUST RESIST

Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Mysterious Barn Pooper; A Tale of Tactical Tracking, Prepositional Chaos, and One Very Mischievous Gnome


Act I: The Crime Scene

The farm awoke to scandal.

Doris the Hen shrieked as she fluttered down from her roost: “MY HAYSTACK! It’s been… decorated!”

There, atop the golden hay (在上面 zài shàngmiàn), sat a suspicious pile.

Porkchop the Pig snorted near the tractor: “Dudes… there’s more under here!” (在下面 zài xiàmiàn)

Sir Whiskerton adjusted his magnifying glass. “This is no ordinary poop. This is… a prepositional puzzle.”


Act II: The Suspect Interviews

Suspect #1: Bessie the Cow
“Who, me?” Bessie blinked, her mood ring glowing “innocent.” “I only poop inside the barn!” (在里面 zài lǐmiàn)

Evidence: A single cow pie behind the water trough (在后面 zài hòumiàn). Alibi: “That’s modern art, man.”

Suspect #2: The Rabbits
“Eep!” They scattered, leaving only tiny pellets near the carrot patch (在附近 zài fùjìn).

Evidence: Too small. Too… adorable.

Suspect #3: Rufus the Dog
“I only poop on walks!“** he insisted, tail wagging.

Evidence: A mystery turd beside his doghouse (在旁边 zài pángbiān). Alibi: “That’s a… rock. Yeah.”


Act III: The Plot Thickens

Then—a breakthrough.

Ditto the Kitten tiptoed around the barn (在周围 zài zhōuwéi), whispering: “I saw something… in the shadows!” (在里面 zài lǐmiàn)

A giggle echoed. A tiny hat glinted.

Sir Whiskerton’s eyes narrowed. “Gnomeo.”


Act IV: The Shocking Truth

They cornered Gnomeo between two hay bales (在中间 zài zhōngjiān), clutching a whoopee cushion and a bag of chocolate-covered raisins.

“戏精胖仙 strikes again!” he cackled, waving his fake gnome poop (crafted from mud and mischief).

The “fart” QR code clue? Just Gnomeo blowing raspberries.


Act V: Justice Served

As punishment, Gnomeo was sentenced to:

  1. Clean-up duty (with a toothbrush).

  2. Preposition lessons (“The poop goes in the compost, Gnomeo!”).

  3. Community service: Decorating the barn with actual art (non-poop division).

Moral: Know where your poop goes—and your prepositions too!


ESL Adventure Time!

Left Page: Comic Chaos

  • Panel 1: Doris gasps at haystack poop (在上面 zài shàngmiàn).

  • Panel 2: Porkchop finds tractor poop (在下面 zài xiàmiàn).

  • Text: “Oh no! The barn is a disaster! 但是… 谁是罪犯? Dànshì… shéi shì zuìfàn?”

Right Page: Detective Games

  1. Poop Match-Up

    • Cow pie = Bessie

    • Tiny pellets = Rabbits

    • Whoopee cushion = Gnomeo!

  2. QR Code Fun

    • Scan to hear the “fart” (Spoiler: It’s Gnomeo giggling).

  3. Preposition Challenge

    • “Draw poop behind the barn! Say: 在后面! Zài hòumiàn!”


The End (and the barn has never smelled… wait, no, it still smells.)

Pan Roasted Maple Dijon Chicken
with Butternut Squash and Brussels Sprouts

Center your home cooked meal around a hearty dish such as Pan Roasted Maple Dijon Chicken with Butternut Squash and Brussels Sprouts to ensure that none of your guests leave the table hungry.

Pan Roasted Maple Dijon Chicken recipe

Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 4 chicken thighs
  • 4 chicken drumsticks
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
  • 16 Brussels sprouts (about 8 ounces), bottom trimmed, outer leaves removed and halved
  • 2 cups diced (1/2 inch) butternut squash
  • 1 1/2 cups chicken stock
  • 2 tablespoons maple syrup
  • 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

Instructions

  1. In a sauté pan large enough to hold chicken in single layer, heat olive oil over medium-high heat.
  2. Season chicken with salt and pepper.
  3. Add chicken to pan, skin side down, and sauté for about 4 to 5 minutes per side, or until chicken is browned.
  4. Remove chicken from pan and reserve.
  5. In the same pan, add butter. Allow butter to melt over medium heat.
  6. Add sprouts and squash to pan and sauté, tossing occasionally, until outsides are golden brown, about 3 to 4 minutes.
  7. Remove from pan and hold separately from chicken.
  8. Turn heat to high and add stock, syrup and mustard. Stir and bring to boil, stirring to scrape up brown bits on bottom of pan.
  9. Add chicken back to pan, cover and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook over medium-low heat for 20 to 25 minutes, or until chicken registers 170 degrees F with an instant read thermometer.
  10. Add vegetables back to pan, cover again and cook another 8 to 10 minutes until vegetables are tender.
  11. Move chicken and vegetables to serving platter, placing vegetables around chicken.
  12. Turn heat to high and boil sauce until it is reduced and slightly thickened, about 2 to 3 minutes.
  13. Spoon sauce over chicken and serve.

Attribution

Recipe and photo used with permission from: National Chicken Council

A brutal date

The Vegans. (A Serving of Man.)

Written in response to: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.

Ken Cartisano

You don’t speak their language, so you don’t really know what’s going on, but you see other people accepting small chits from an automated dispenser. You grab one and take a seat. The ticket has symbols that mean nothing to you. The minutes turn into hours. Eventually you realize your number is being called when a bureaucrat with an electronic pad barks out some foreign gibberish, and several heads in the room turn toward you.

A freakishly tall, gaunt and bony creature silently leads you to a cubicle and offers you a seat. It’s hard to explain how you managed to get into this place, with or without a translator, and you’re not sure if that’s the question you’re being asked by the alien agent, or officer, who has no chair, but appears to roost on a low, limb-like contrivance and makes himself comfortable by squatting behind the desk in front of you. This brings his large sunglass covered eyes almost down to your level.

It’s clear to you that he is, without a doubt, one of the aliens you’ve seen pictures of and heard about. Their arrival with a small fleet of ships stirred a great deal of initial interest, but did not produce the anticipated unity of humankind, nor the hoped for instant technological solutions to our gravest problems. On 21st Century earth, even a highly advanced alien species could be dismissed after a few weeks if they refused to die, conquer, or work miracles. Aliens are real, they’re here, and though they are rarely seen, it is impossible to deny that you’re sitting across the desk from one.

Noting your verbal difficulty, he fiddles with a box on his desk, while he gazes at you with a blend of interest and annoyance. Speaking occasionally. Finally, the box beeps and begins translating his speech into questions you can understand. “You seek asylum?” He asks.

“Yes,” you reply. “I guess so.”

“What is your name?”

“Jesus,” you say, “Jesus Morales.”

“Hay-soos,” the agent recites, “Morale-ayez.” He smiles. You smile back, then he says, “How did you get in here?”

“I…” You hesitate. Was it divine providence? You were just loitering by the entrance when one of their human liaisons strolled by wearing similar overalls, so you adjusted your gait, fell in behind him and pretended to be his assistant. Once inside the building, with people milling around, sitting on benches in the massive lobby, you took advantage of a kind of herd blindness typical in large institutions. “I pretended I was one of you,” you finally say.

He smiles. “So you’re here of your own volition?”

“Excuse me?”

“You did not get a notice to appear?”

“A notice to—uh no, I didn’t, I just came in. Wanted to see what was going on.”

“You have no family? No friends? No children?”

“Not really. No.”

“Then you would not object to emigrating.”

“Uh, no.” You didn’t know it was an option. “Where?”

“Do you have a preference?” The alien asks.

Your laughter erupts spontaneously and ends just as abruptly. “I’ll take any country that takes me, as long as it’s better than this.” Your voice is teetering on the edge of hysteria. “Have you looked outside lately?”

There are no windows. The agent blinks in surprise.

“Half the continent is in flames, what isn’t burnt is water-logged, the food is laced with plastic, there isn’t a job to be had for love or money, the subsistence checks are a joke, crime is rampant, the heat is flourishing, the water is tainted, the drugs…” Your last few complaints are muffled as you lower your head and cover your face with your hands. While your particular circumstances may not be universal, your kind of desperation is widespread. But you are unprepared for an offer of asylum. What does that even mean? What if you turn it down?

The agent clears his throat and steeples his long, boney fingers together. “It is critical that you understand, Mr. Morales, that this is a one-way trip? There is no return, no exceptions.”

His warning has an ominous tone. Well, you didn’t think they were running a shuttle service. “One way to where?” You ask. Only now do you relax enough to observe some of your surroundings: The padded chairs, polished floors and unobtrusive lighting. You’re basking in the powerful air conditioning when the agent pulls some papers from his desk and signs them, one by one. His hands are long and articulated, he has many more knuckles than you. His skin seems to be a dark purple.

You’re about to repeat your question when he says, “Who, or where were you informed of our refugee program?” Then he holds the forms perpendicular to the desk and taps them into alignment. It’s a surprisingly universal act.

His tone is neutral, but you’re suspicious. “I didn’t. I was just guessing that you might have one.”

The agent says, “So you entered under false pretenses, hoping we had a program, that you’ve never heard of.”

That is essentially correct, and now you’re wondering if this was such a good idea. “But,” you say, “I’m not sure the pretense was false. I need help. Just like most of those people out there.” He nods toward the few lingering individuals waiting in the lobby. Grimy people, hunched over, scratching their heads or rubbing their necks.

Now you’re both gazing through a glass partition, watching humanity’s flotsam. “Did you speak with any of them while you were waiting?”

“Them?” Your laugh is bitter. “No. I don’t speak the local language. I imagine most of them are clueless. They have no idea who you are. Or…”

The agent leans forward and rests his large head on those extra-long fingers. “Or?”

“Or what you’re doing.”

“What are we doing?”

You hesitate, but really, what more could you have to lose? “I was sharing a lean-to with a fellow un-homed person in the alley across the street,” you tell him. “Just a tarp stretched out between two dumpsters. Once I settled in and got the lay of the land, I noticed the police were really thin around here.”

“You saw that as anomalous?” The agent asks.

“I did. It made me curious, and it gave me a chance to watch this building for extended periods.”

“And what was the result of these extended observations?” The agent whispers.

“Well, I’d say you’re doing an excellent job of hiding in plain sight,” you say.

The agent adjusts the nameplate on his desk, a name you cannot pronounce, and reclines against the wall. “And yet, you noticed—something.”

“Well,” you lean forward, “I made it my business to watch this place once for 66 hours straight. Never slept. Drank coffee. Did a little speed. Kept a tally as the hours went by…”

The agent smiles patiently.

“A hundred and ninety-four people entered the building, and only seven came out—in three days.”

“That’s not quite three days…”

“It’s close enough.”

“They could’ve left through the back door…” the agent began.

“One of which opens into the same alley across the street,” you say. “I had a clear view of that exit as well,” you say.. “People go in, but they don’t come back out.”

“How do you know…” the agent said, “that we’re not eating them?”

That thought, truly, had not occurred to you.

“Are you?” You ask.

The agent makes a weird clucking noise and says, “No. We’re vegetarians, and it’s a big part of your planet’s problems. Eating other sentient creatures is a mild form of cannibalism and leads to other forms of horrendous behavior. We’ve really got our work cut out for us here.”

“So, you’re not eating people.”

“As I said, we’re vegetarians.

“You don’t sound optimistic.”

“We’re not. Not sure we can pull it off,” every now and then he makes this weird chirring sound. “But we have a lot of resources. I hope you’re not having second thoughts?”

“Not really,” you say. But you are.

“Good. Though your diligence is commendable, I’m afraid your relocation is no longer optional.”

“Why is that?” You ask.

The agent rises to his feet and again appears to be about 8 feet tall. “You already know more than I’m allowed to tell you.”

You’re thinking about how wonderful it would be to spend another night in a familiar alley, under a blue tarp, stretched between two dumpsters, but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards. The agent holds out the sheaf of documents he has signed, and points you to a large, energized doorway that was not noticeable a few minutes ago. “Step through the door Mr. Morales, you will be assisted on the other side.”

“Assisted? On the other side of what? Wait a minute,” you protest. “Where am I going? Where are you sending me?” There’s a tremor in your voice. “Sir?”

He does not answer, and you’ve lost your voice, but you accept the papers and step forward as if in a trance, a dead man walking, as if he had some way to make you move against your will. The agent’s voice fades as you are pulled through the portal, but you are encouraged by his parting words. “Good luck, follow instructions, and if you do eat any of your hosts, Mr. Morales, we WILL bring you back here.”

I paid my ex-fiancée’s way through college only for her to ask for an open marriage

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我的模型。
My model.

以中文為主,英文只是參考。
It’s main in Chinese, English is just for reference.

圖上的音標是國際音標;中文羅馬化是以我的2026-1標準為準。
The phonetic alphabets on the photo are international phonetic alphabets; the Chinese Romanization is by following my 2026-1 standard.

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