text:
[  projet Michel ]

He takes cover behind a row of steel barrels, gun on his right hand and suitcase in the other

“There’s two more of them. But they still won’t get this shit back.”
For a split second he blows his cover to aim at one of the guards and quickly pulls the trigger. The bullet ferociously pierces the guard’s forehead and comes out the back of his skull leading a trail of brain bits behind it. The other guard rushes over to his fallen comrade and lets out a cry that tells us he isn’t very happy with what is left of him.

“There’s my cue,” he thinks to himself and dashes down a corridor with a window at the end of it. He jumps out.

And lands seated in his topless floating P1 Mclaren Space Coupe. He speeds off into the distance, away from the large midnight black building. There's a sea of sand for miles and miles around but Michel doesn’t plan to stick around for long. As he shoots up into the sky, he puts his coupe in space travel mode which generates a forcefield between him and the elements of outer space. He looks over at the suitcase on the passenger seat and grins as he thinks about how much money he’s about to get.

While in outer space traveling to his destination he speaks out of the paper.

I know that was kinda crazy right? Yea it was kinda crazy. But hey, that’s life sometimes, at least for me it is. Oh this suitcase. I was given instructions not to open the suitcase, I really don’t know what’s inside. It maybe it's an illegal supply of viagra, maybe it's the devil’s soul or maybe its a couple Karats of black diamonds. Actually let me just have a quick look. *Opens suitcase*,*closes suitcase*. Yup, it’s the devil’s soul. At the end of the day as long as I get my money I’m good. Yea I just killed a guy, put a bullet through his brain. I killed someone’s friend, someone’s loved one, someone’s son. A mother lost her son but I just found some money. People die everyday. It’s ok. One day it may be my time to die and I’ll readily accept it. You know I was reading this book by this guy and he says that people must learn when to die, they must learn when to depart, death is an art. An apple for example should be eaten when it is at its ripest, why should it hang on to life and wait to get all rotten? Get as much of a good time as you can, fuck a retirement plan. I’m not a psychopath. I don’t enjoy killing but I do enjoy money women and drugs. Yea all that sinful stuff that probably makes you think I’m a bad person. Maybe I’m not a bad person, maybe I’m not a person at all. I look beyond good and evil.

Yea by the way we’re still in my P1 McLaren space coupe which I bought with money that I made doing things u might not approve of (or you might approve of them depending on how “edgy” you are). Should I use parentheses more often?

Anyway like I was saying I once heard this song that asked the question why get a dog that’s just gonna die and- Oh we’re here.

[타락한 천사를 태우다.]

Initializing System operation

Pulling all components
[THEY BURNED HIM ALIVE]
pu-pulling all components
Generating C17
Generating H21
[THEY BURNED THE ANGEL ALIVE]
G-g-g-gen
[BUT HE ROSE FROM HIS ASHES]
Generating NO4

Michel completed

                    [VENUS]

Michel parks his space coupe across a rectangular building. The words platinum pleasures hung above the entrance. It's a stripclub. There was a reasonable line in front of the entrance and a muscular bald man with the complexion of  raw red meat stood at the door.
Michel grabbed the suitcase, went behind the rectangular building and approached a back door. He knocked.

“Yo who back there,” a voice behind the door inquired.
“I'm here with the beef empanadas,” Michel replied.

There was no response.

Michel: “Oh, umm beef empanadas no raisins,” he remembered out loud.

The door opened and a short black man revealed himself.

“Bruh can u believe he still got us doin this shit, what’s wrong with raisins anyway”

Michel: “What you mean what’s wrong with raisins, them shits are nasty, specially when u mix them with meat” he said confused

They talked as they walked down a long narrow hallway followed by a flight of stairs down.

“I mean there's nothin wrong with mixing shit up, thats how u come up wit dat new shit, you gotta be the first one, the pioneer”

Michel: “Vro not all food belong together, i heard some people be using ice cream as a dip for their fries” he said in disgust.

“Yoo i be doing that shit”

Michel: “Oh nahhhh u nasty, how the fuck does that even make sense to do” he remarked.

“Vro u being mad closed minded right now, u need to try new things”

Michel: “Look i see your point but some shit just be too weird to me. You do you tho” he replied

“Aight vro keep missing out” He laughed and proceeded to open the door they had reached at the bottom of the flight of stairs.

Inside was a large cat in human form sitting down behind a desk with mountains of money on it. To left and right of him there were two guards dressed in all black with cat mask on.

“My shipment has finally arrived, you got no idea how long i been waiting for this shit young blood” the cat said excitedly

Michel: “You only ordered me to get it like 2 days ago tho, aight whatever, here you go” he replied as he handed over the suitcase.

The cat opened it, looked inside, smiled deviously, and closed it. He took a stack of money from the top of his desk and handed it over to Michel.

They all said their goodbyes and Michel started to leave the club. He wasn’t leaving through the backdoor but instead was leaving through the  main entrance at the front of the stripclub.

Just when he was about to leave he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned and looked. There on the pole was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her eyes-
…………..INTERLUDE……..
[insert your description of what the most beautiful woman in the galaxy would look like here]

[
Dear reader

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, all of us have a  somewhat different perspective on what perfect really is, this statement however, is a very ideal one. The media has found a way to capitalize on the word beautiful or on what it means to be beautiful. Television, The internet, magazines, they’re all constantly telling you what a beautiful person is or what they’re supposed to look like. They barrage us with unrealistic images of the human form or lifestyle that are near impossible to achieve naturally. The only way to get close to that form is by buying their products. Buy this make up, buy this gadget, buy this brand and only then you will become the best human being you could be. They make you think that being yourself isn’t enough. They steal your confidence and make you buy it back in small parts. Their products become your crutches, you begin to need instead of just want. So you keep buying and buying because you want confidence that gives you a heightened sense of self. You’re a junkie.

                Sincerely
                The cat in human form

]
…………….END OF INTERLUDE…………

So in the minute or so that it took you to read that interlude
-1800 stars exploded
-There were 5 earthquakes
-3 violent crimes were committed in the U.S.
-107 people died
-250 babies were born. 113 born into poverty and 15 with birth defects
-4500 Mcdonalds burgers were eaten

But the most important thing of all, Our character Michel requested a lap dance from the stripper whose looks left him staring. He tipped her heavily and made good conversation. She was feeling his vibe so when he asked to meet her after her shift ended, she agreed.

They got into his space coupe.

Venus: This is a pretty nice car, let me guess, your dad’s some sort of bigshot investment banker and nepotism has served you well.

Michel: heh, your funny, i worked hard for this

Venus: “What line of work exactly?” She asked curiously

Michel: “Delivery man” he responded with a smile on his face

Venus: “And I’m supposed to be the funny one, You never told me where you’re from by the way” she stated curiously

Michel: “I don’t really know, maybe i rose from the the ashes of an angel to come sweep you off yo feet” he said seemingly joking

Michel took out a ziplock bag filled with a powdery substance from out of his pocket and started to open it

Venus: “Is that coke?” she asked as her eyes widened

Michel “Yeah” he replied coolly

Venus: “So is this what you do everyday” she teased

Michel: “I do it often” he smirked back

Venus: “How does it feel?” she asked

Michel: “Aight so basically, this shit gets you going at the speed of light. Time stops and you feel limitless. People don’t even see you, you basically shrink in the direction you move in. It's like it gives you superpowers. You’ve never tried it?” he asked

Venus: “Nah, isn’t dangerous?”

Michel: “Umm not necessarily” * takes out bottle of percocet* “what i like to do is get up to lightspeed with the coke, then after a few minutes i come back down with these opioids and repeat the process. The journey up and the journey down, are sweeter than touching the sky or the ground.” he assured her.

Venus: So you get high and low and high and low again? You’re basically going up and down and up and down again to get the best feel?” she chuckled.

Michel: “What’s so funny?” he grinned.

Venus: “Oh nothing, it’s just that whole process you described isn’t actually all that new to me” She smiled back.

They looked at each other for a few seconds and proceeded to burst out into laughter.

Michel: “Come on don’t be so closed minded, be open to new experiences” he said once they were able to stop laughing.

Venus: “Well i mean it’s not like I’m gonna get addicted from trying it just once, so why not” she said enthusiastically.

Michel pulled out a small glass mirror and used it as a surface to cut the cocaine into 7 rows. He snorted 6 and let her snort 1.

Time stopped and a stream of euphoria overcame them. Time sped up then slowed back down then sped up and slowed back down again.

They went everywhere while going nowhere.

They saw everything while seeing nothing.

Suddenly Venus started to shake violently. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. In a matter of seconds she was dead. Michel stated shocked and horrified.

Venus: “achoooo” she sneezed

Michel: “oh my fucking god no again” he said tired out.

Venus: “sorry guys it’s my allergies” she said in an apologetic tone.

Director of this movie: “Cut! Cut! Cut!, alright guys take 10, somebody get her some Allegra, I don’t wanna shoot this scene for the 12th time!” he exclaimed

Michel speaks out of the page

“In the end everything is smoke and mirrors. Shards of glass and toxic gas”

Then he winks directly at you.

  [FIN]

title: [SP] Projet Michel

question: What does the text say about Michel and Venus?

answer: Michel seems to be a drug addict trying to influence Venus into trying cocaine as well.

question: What does the story say about the setting?

answer: Michel and Venus seem to be actors trying film a show supposedly set in space.


split: test

text:
Bad Astronomy
[KBO]

Artist’s depiction of a distant Kuiper Belt object, the Sun, and inner solar system far, far away. Click to encometenate.
Drawing by NASA/JPL-Caltech

Astronomers have announced the discovery of an amazing object in our solar system: 2012 VP113, an icy body with an orbit so big it never gets closer than 12 billion kilometers (7.4 billion miles) from the Sun! That’s _80 times_ the distance of the Earth from the Sun. No other solar system object known stays so far from the Sun. And at its most distant, it reaches an incredible _70 billion kilometers_ (44 billion miles) from the Sun—and it takes well over 4,000 years to circle the Sun once.

It’s not exactly clear yet, but it’s likely that VP113 is a member of the Oort cloud, a huge collection of gigantic frozen ice balls that orbit the Sun way, way past Neptune. Sedna is the only other object known in that part of the remote solar system, and it gets closer to the Sun by a smidge than VP113 ever does. The closest point an object can get to the Sun is called _perihelion_, and VP113 has the largest perihelion distance of any object known.

The existence of these two objects implies there could be hundreds more. Not only that, but their orbits hint at the possibility of another even larger object out there; perhaps even something as big as Earth! That’s speculative, to be clear, but very interesting.

Let’s see how this all works.

HOME IS WHERE THE PLANETS ARE

The Sun is at the center of the solar system. Orbiting it are the smaller, rocky planets (Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars), then a belt of asteroids, then the giant planets (Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune). Pluto was once considered a planet on its own, but whether to include it or not is more of a problem of semantic definition than physics.

But either way it’s not alone. Outside the orbit of Neptune is a large population of icy bodies called the Kuiper Belt objects (or KBOs if you want to sound cool). These have orbits that can be as close to the Sun as Neptune (about 30 times the Earth/Sun distance) and as far out as about 50 times the Earth/Sun distance. After that, there appears to be a “desert” of KBOs; for reasons still being worked out they don’t seem to orbit any farther out than that.

(Note: To make the numbers a bit easier, astronomers use a handy unit of distance called an Astronomical Unit, or AU, which is the distance of the Earth from the Sun, about 150 million kilometers—93 million miles. That means KBOs range from 30–50 AU from the Sun.)

But there are things out there farther yet, in the distant frozen depths of the solar system. Even though they are too far away to see directly, their presence is revealed by, of all things, comets.

[vp113 images]

Actual images of 2012 VP113, showing it moving slowly among the background stars. Click to embiggen.
Photo by Scott Sheppard/Carnegie Institution for Science

A DISTANT THRONG

Comets are much like asteroids, but have long, elliptical orbits, and contain lots of ice that turns into a gas when they get near the Sun. We see several coming from the far outer reaches of the solar system every year. In the early 20th century, astronomers wondered on that. Comet orbits aren’t stable over millions of years, which means the ones we see must be relatively new compared with the age of the solar system. Also, they lose a bit of themselves every time they pass the Sun, creating those lovely tails. That means there must be a vast repository of them well beyond Neptune’s orbit, or else the solar system would have run out of comets billions of years ago.

We call this the Oort cloud, after the astronomer who worked out the properties of the cloud. The problem is, even though the objects in it can get big, hundreds or possibly even a few thousand kilometers across, they’re too distant to see.

Indirect confirmation of the cloud’s existence came in 1992, when the first KBO was found. For years, astronomers had realized that if the Oort cloud existed, there should also be a somewhat disk-shaped collection of objects between it and Neptune’s orbit. Now we know it’s there, and more than a thousand such KBOs have been seen. That made the existence of the Oort cloud even more likely.

[orbit of vp113]

Schematic of the orbit of 2012 VP113. Note that the distance is so big, the scale so large that it cannot even show the inner solar system at all! The inermost orbit shown is that of Saturn, a billion kilometers from Earth.
Drawing by NASA/JPL-Caltech

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

Then, in 2003, astronomer Mike Brown and his team found Sedna, which orbits the Sun even farther out, never getting closer than about 76 AU. It’s on a highly elliptical orbit that takes it out to an incredible distance of about 1,000 AU, or _150 billion kilometers_ (90 billion miles)! That means it never even gets as close to the Sun as a KBO, and therefore is almost certainly part of the Oort cloud.

And now we have VP113 joining it. Let me point out that Sedna actually gets much farther from the Sun than VP113 ever does, but at their _closest_ points VP113 is farther away. Sedna has a perihelion distance of 76 AU, VP113 is about 80.

[vp113]

The discovery image of 2012 VP113; its motion makes it appear to be different colors as different filters were used.
Photo by Scott Sheppard/Carnegie Institution for Science

The discovery of VP113 is welcome news! We don’t know very much about the Oort cloud, except from hypotheses based on physics. We need to actually _see_ some of those icy bodies—Oort Cloud Objects, or OCOs if you like—so that we can observe their behavior. That will in turn tell us a lot about how the solar system works, both now and back when it was young. Why?

The inner part of the Kuiper Belt is affected by Neptune. Its gravity can poke and prod at KBOs, altering their orbits. It scatters them, sending them on new orbits. We’ve seen some of these scattered objects (Makemake, for example, and Haumea), though their orbits keep them pretty firmly inside the Kuiper Belt. We might also expect to see objects with more elliptical orbits that take them as close as Neptune when they’re close to the Sun, but reach much farther out at their most distant point. Nothing like that has yet been seen.

The orbits of VP113 and Sedna never bring them close enough to Neptune to be affected by it, so it’s very unlikely they’ve ever been a part of the Kuiper Belt. They’re far more likely to be a part of the inner Oort cloud, and that originally formed with the solar system 4.56 billion years ago. We think it’s remained nearly untouched since then, so studying these OCOs is like opening up an eons-old time capsule. They’re a window on when the solar system itself was young.

ANOTHER WORLD

I want to start this part off by noting it’s speculative, so don’t get _too_ excited about it.

The orbits of Sedna and VP113 are weird. They are highly elliptical, dipping down into the inner Oort cloud and stretching out to its vast depths. We’d expect their orbits to have started out more circular, so what could have affected them to alter their orbits into the shapes we see today?

There are several possibilities. Over the course of billions of years, the Sun sometimes gets relatively near other stars. Right now the closest is Alpha Centauri, 4.3 light years (about 40 trillion kilometers) away. But some do get closer. Can they actually approach us near enough to perturb the Oort cloud?

Actually, yes, it’s possible. In the case of VP113 and Sedna, though, it’s unlikely. Though large, their orbits don’t really extend out as far as we think they’d have to to get poked by the passing of a nearby star (which is only close on a galactic scale; it would still be very far from Earth). It’s not impossible, just unlikely.

It’s possible that a bigger object—a proper planet-sized thing—could be out there in the Oort cloud, hundreds of AU away from the Sun, that could be affecting the orbits of these objects. If it were a giant planet like Jupiter or Saturn we would have detected it by now, so it would have to be something smaller and colder. An object the size of the Earth (or even somewhat bigger) would fit the bill. It’s an idea that’s been around for a while now.

Mind you, the evidence here is pretty thin, and as much as I’d _love_ for there to be another planet lurking out there for us to find and study, we just don’t have enough data here to say anything either way. It’s small number statistics; we’ve found two objects with odd orbits, but it could be coincidence. We need to find a lot more OCOs like Sedna and VP113 so that the gaps in our understanding of their orbits can be filled in.

FOR THE RECORD

I understand this can be a bit confusing, so let me say a few things.

First, VP113 is _not_ the most distant solar system object ever seen; Eris, for example, is nearly 100 AU away. But that’s as far as Eris gets, whereas VP113 gets much farther out. Sedna gets even farther out than VP113, by a huge margin (and in fact is farther away right now). But when you look at all the objects in the solar system, and sort them by how _close_ they get to the Sun, VP113 has the largest perihelion distance.

Next, VP113 is _not_ another major planet in our solar system, by any definition of what you might think an actual planet is. It’s probably only about 500 kilometers or so across—far smaller even than Pluto. So no, conspiracy theorists, this has nothing to do with Planet X.

We also know of some comets that have orbits that take them farther out than VP113, but those tend to be small (a few kilometers across) and on orbits that aren’t stable over time. Eventually Jupiter’s gravity will profoundly affect them, dropping them into the Sun or flinging them out of the solar system entirely … not to mention (once again) that over time they evaporate. VP113 has a stable orbit, and is likely to have been a member of the Oort cloud for a long, long time.

THE VASTY DEEP

What this does mean is that we’ve (figuratively) shed some light on the (literally) dim outer edges of the solar system. Our telescopic eyes are getting better at seeing these incredibly remote objects; our hardware and software better at teasing out their faint signal. In some ways, this discovery was inevitable! But it’s important nonetheless; we are peering into a region of the solar system that is ancient, but new to us. It’s a window into the past, as well as a peek into an up-to-now invisible population of objects.

As we find more of these objects we will learn more about this most-distant part of our solar system. We have an amazing grasp of how it formed, evolved, and became the bustling place we see today. But there is still much to learn, and I can guarantee two things: We will learn more, and we’ll find _far_ more surprises as we do.

That’s why this is so much fun.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

question: Summarize what the text says about the distance of VP113 from the sun.

answer: The VP113 object in our solar system is so far from our sun that it never gets closer than 12 billion kilometers from it. The distance is 80 times that of the Earth from the Sun. At its mosts distant point, VP113 reaches 70 billion kilometers. This makes it the most distant known object from the sun which takes 4,000 years to complete one orbit. VP113 is part of a cloud composed of giant frozen ice balls that orbit the sun, much farther out than Neptune. VP113 is not the most distant solar system object but has the largest perihelion distance. VP113's existence implies there could be hundreds more like it.


text:
He awoke to a witch light dancing beyond his window. He didn't know the time, in the high latitudes one couldn't always tell late twilight from early dawn.

He dressed quickly and warmly and stepped outside, finding what he half expected to find.  It was after midnight and cold enough to hear the stars twinkle like thousands of tiny shards of breaking glass and the northern lights play a chromatic scale on harp strings stretching from one horizon to the other.

*The heavens declare ...,"* he whispered to himself.

Shuffling sounds in the forest drew his attention earthwards, a  scuffle between a hunting fox and its prey ended in mystery.  His eyes swept out over the sleeping village, past the mudflat with its grounded fishing boats, out to where the North Sea rolled restless in her bed.  Mists shifted leaving the horizon a clean line where sea met sky.

As he watched, flashes erupted seaward.  Below the horizon and dim at first, then blossoming white hot before dying out, only to repeat and repeat.  Within minutes a hands width of sky glowed dull red, punctuated by sporadic brilliance.  By a rare combination of temperature gradients and wind an atmospheric duct opened and a distant thunder that was not thunder rolled through.

Twenty minutes later the light show ended abruptly, the horizon darkened.  The aurora was gone but he hadn't noticed when.  The stars were quiet again, dimmed by a rising predawn mist.

By the end of the week debris from the inconclusive meeting between the English and German fleets began washing up on the mudflats: a yellow and blue signal flag, a wrecked lifeboat, a patch of fuel oil, a drowned sailor.

title: [HF] In The Small Hours

question: Where is the narrator?

answer: The narrator is in a village off of the North Sea.

question: What time does the narrator wake up?

answer: The narrator wakes up after midnight.

question: What is the narrator watching on the horizon?

answer: He is watching a fight between the English and German fleets.

question: When the debris start washing up on shore?

answer: The debris starts washing up by the end of the week.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator wakes up late at night and walks outside. He looks out to sea and watches a naval battle happening on the horizon. By the end of the week wreckage from the battle starts washing up on shore.


text:
The TUFTED DUCK (_Aythya fuligula_) is a small diving duck with a population of close to one million birds, found in northern Eurasia. The scientific name is derived from Ancient Greek '' aithuia'' an unidentified seabird mentioned by authors including Hesychius and Aristotle, and _Latin_, _fuligo_ “soot” and _gula_ “throat”.[1]

Description

The adult male is all black except for white flanks and a blue-grey bill with gold-yellow eyes, along with a thin crest on the back of its head. It has an obvious head tuft that gives the species its name. The adult female is brown with paler flanks, and is more easily confused with other diving ducks. In particular, some have white around the bill base which resembles the scaup species, although the white is never as extensive as in those ducks. The females' call is a harsh, growling “karr”, mostly given in flight. The males are mostly silent but they make whistles during courtship based on a simple “wit-oo”.

The only duck which is at all similar is the drake greater scaup which, however, has no tuft and a different call.

The tufted duck is one of the species to which the _Agreement on the Conservation of African-Eurasian Migratory Waterbirds_ (AEWA) applies.

Refer to the following table for measurements of the tufted duck[2]:

  Measurement         Male           Female
  ------------------- -------------- --------------
  Range of mass       753-1026.2 g   629-906.8 g
  Average of mass     889.6 g        768.3 g
  Range of length     40.6-45.7 cm   40.6-45.7 cm
  Average of length   43.2 cm        43.2 cm
  Range of wingspan   20.2-21.2 cm   19.4-20.7 cm

  : Tufted duck measurements

Distribution

The tufted duck breeds throughout temperate and northern Eurasia. It occasionally can be found as a winter visitor along both coasts of the United States and Canada. It is believed to have expanded its traditional range with the increased availability of open water due to gravel extraction, and the spread of freshwater mussels, a favourite food. These ducks are migratory in most of their range, and overwinter in the milder south and west of Europe, southern Asia and all year in the British Isles. One individual has been reported as far south as Melbourne, Australia. They form large flocks on open water in winter.

Habitat

Their breeding habitat is close to marshes and lakes with plenty of vegetation to conceal the nest. They are also found on coastal lagoons, shorelines and sheltered ponds.

Food

These birds feed mainly by diving, but they will sometimes upend from the surface.[3] They eat molluscs, aquatic insects and some plants and sometimes feed at night.

Gallery

File:Tufted Duck pangolakha Wildlife Sanctuary East Sikkim India 27.03.2016.jpg|Adult male, Sikkim, India File:Tufted Duck ducklings.jpg|Ducklings File:Tufted ducks (Aythya fuligula) male juveniles.jpg|Immature males, Farmoor Reservoir, Oxfordshire File:Tufted duck (aythya fuligula).JPG|Male, Farmoor Reservoir, Oxfordshire File:Tufted duck (Aythya fuligula) female.JPG|Female, WWT London Wetland Centre File:Aythya fuligula MWNH 1014.JPG|Eggs in the collection of Museum Wiesbaden File:Vigg (Aythya fuligula) -Ystad-2016.jpg|Flock of 2000 tufted ducks in Ystad port, 16 January 2016

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Tufted duck

question: What does the article say about the tufted duck distribution?

answer: Tufted duck breeds throughout temperate and northern Eurasia and occasionally can be found as a winter visitor along both coasts of the United States and Canada. They are migratory in most of their range and overwinter in the milder south and west of Europe, southern Asia, and all year in the British Isles. They form large flocks on open water in winter.

question: What does the article say about what a tufted duck looks like?

answer: It has a head tuft. The adult male is all black except for white flanks and a blue-grey bill with gold-yellow eyes, along with a thin crest on the back of its head. The adult female is brown with paler flanks. Some have white around the bill base which resembles the scaup species, although the white is never as extensive as in those ducks.

question: What does the article say about a tufted duck lifespan?


text:
A heartbreaking video of a 16-year-old girl begging her bullies to stop their torment has gone viral and, as a result, thousands have rallied to support the devastated teen.

Dana Hamrick is a junior at Harry S. Truman High School in Taylor, Mich. On Wednesday, she uploaded a five-minute video(warning: It contains strong language) in which she tearfully shares her experiences of being bullied at school. It has since been shared 2,500 times, viewed more than 85,000 times, and has racked up numerous comments.

_STORY: What I Told My Daughter About My Bullying Past_

Hamrick describes various scenarios in which she’s teased by students and dismissed by teachers. “Do you know how bad I feel?” she says in the video. “People make fun of the way I look.… This school sucks. I don’t want to go there anymore, but I don’t have a choice.”

_STORY: After Her Son Was Bullied, Mom Sues the School District_

The Facebook comments are overwhelmingly positive, with many calling Hamrick “beautiful” and recalling their own experiences of being bullied in school. The commenters include four current and former Truman students, one of whom said she wound up transferring because she “couldn’t take it.”

[]

_High school student Dana Hamrick’s anti-bullying video goes viral. (Photo: Dana Hamrick)_

In an email to Yahoo Parenting, Teresa Winnie, assistant superintendent of the Taylor School District, says that when the school discovered the video, it immediately offered assistance to Hamrick, inquiring which students were involved in the harassment and contacting Hamrick’s parents. “Per district policy, interventions were put in place several months ago to address this student’s needs,” Winnie adds. “At no time following that were incidents of bullying reported to any school personnel. Furthermore, the student refused help from counselors, teachers, and social workers on different occasions when it was offered and could not provide the school with any specific names of students bothering her. As a follow-up measure, her parent was contacted, and a meeting was scheduled.”

Winnie further describes school policies to deal with bullying, which include student support groups led by social workers, teacher training on relationship building, and social media campaigns. Hamrick and her mother did not return Yahoo Parenting’s requests for comment.

Hamrick’s anguish is apparent, but without knowing what the school specifically did to intervene, it’s tough to weigh in. “There are lots of different bullying and violence prevention programs that are effective in reducing peer harassment, but every school has different policies,” Paul Boxer, associate professor of psychology at Rutgers University in Newark, N.J., tells Yahoo Parenting. “And sometimes you can have the best program in place, but teachers still can’t identify bullying when they see it. But it’s still happening in stairwells and on playgrounds.”

If Hamrick _did_ reject help, it could be because mental health services are often stigmatized in high school, or she could have been afraid of retaliation by her peers. “In that case, the school would have little options at that point,” says Boxer. “If a teacher presses too hard, it could be seen as harassment.”

Turning to social media is one way to spread awareness, but as Boxer points out, “If someone is simply sharing their sad experience, it may result in voyeurism from others who enjoy watching an emotional display.” Boxer also debunks the idea that social media is a trigger for bullying. “It’s just another medium that bullies use,” he says. “Those are the same kids who back in the day threw eggs at kids’ houses or made prank phone calls.”

According to Boxer, bullying prevention programs that focus on social skills, character development, and conflict resolution should be in place, and laws should be passed to make schools liable if anti-bullying procedures aren’t followed. “There’s also value in teaching other kids to intervene when they see others being bullied,” he says. “These types of programs absolutely work.”

_Please follow @YahooParenting on_ _Facebook__,_ _Twitter__,_ _Instagram__, and_ _Pinterest__. Have an interesting story to share about your family? E-mail us at YParenting (at) Yahoo.com._

question: What does the school say about how it handled Hamrick's bullying?

answer: The school states that they already attempted to put in support services for Hamrick and she refused them. There are multiple possible reasons for this, some of which include the stigma from fellow students or the possibility of retaliation. The school is emphatic that they had done everything they could to support Hamrick before the video was uploaded.

question: What was the response on social media to Hamrick's video?

answer: The responses to Hamrick's video on social media were overwhelmingly positive. Many people shared their own experience with bullying. Others called Hamrick beautiful. Some of the commenters were current or former members of her school.


text:
When my former Smash History partner Pikachu942 mentioned the idea of making an all-time Top 100 ranking at the end of the year, I laughed. It was already a pain to make a Top 10. Continuing to balance my career with my hobby (writing) was also personally difficult.

Restarting the list-making process process for 100 players involved me putting in even more hours of effort. But as time went by, the idea was stuck in my head. We had collected so much data over the last year – for what: a year’s worth of writing? As a D-list figure in a C-list niche, I’m not quite a celebrity in the scene, but I eventually felt like this idea was something right up my alley of work.

That said, Pikachu was the one that not only had the initial idea for doing a top ten for every non-ranked year of Melee, he was the one daring enough to suggest a Top 100 of all-time. During our days of making RetroSSBMRank, Pikachu scoured through Smashboards, SSBWiki and Nintendodojo (All Is Brawl). Pikachu had even contacted old school smashers like Pacific Northwest/Japan legend Kei for local results from 2003.

If I was the executor and brains behind Smash History, Pikachu was the passion and heart. As he and I talked about the idea, it became clearer that this was something that only we could do together. But it was also something that needed to be done right.

So let’s talk about our newest project: the Top 100 SSBM players of all-time. In the next segment, I’m going to discuss how we are approaching creating this list. Each segment will be labeled by one part of the criteria that we are using while making this list.

—

DETERMINING OUR TALENT POOL: RANKINGS

The first problem we encountered is that we didn’t have a definitive way of figuring out who was Top 100 and who wasn’t. If we were going to make a list that went as far down as 100, we’d need to make sure that we had enough candidates that could qualify for a spot.

We created a list that included every single player that was ranked within the Top 10 of every yearly RetroSSBMRank or SSBMRank. While doing this, we expanded our definition of “ranked” to include honorable mentions of RetroSSBMRank, unlisted “honorable mention honorable mentions” and the Top 25 of the modern SSBMRank era. Pikachu and I even added those that we felt just missed the cut for our RetroSSBMRank years, just to create a stronger pool of potential talent.

To my surprise, Pikachu changed some of the ranks for certain years. This was due to a few reasons, but I’ll give a good example of why we pursued a few changes.

After having Twitter conversations with KishPrime about past years of Melee history, the Midwest legend suggested that despite being a fan of our work, he believed there was a lot to fix about our 2005 rankings. Normally, I would have rolled my eyes at anyone acting more credible about smash history than me or Pikachu but in this case, it was someone who we both agreed was about more credible as a source for evaluating 2005 players than anyone else.

This led us to another point of contention: did fixing “errors” about our past rankings matter more than ensuring a consistent standard of fairness? We weren’t sure, but we also weren’t naive enough to think this could be a perfect process. Ultimately, Pikachu and I tried to keep any changes to our rankings to a minimum.

_EDITOR’S NOTE: Keep in mind that since 2017 hasn’t ended yet, the data we have for 2017 isn’t exactly complete. We used this summer’s SSBMRank as basis for 2017._

While compiling these rankings, one particular argument that Pikachu and I kept having was the merits of longevity vs. peak. These sound like simple debates, but they became extremely frustrating to have, with no clear answer.

For instance, Pikachu kept trying to tell me that Cort was a Top 20 player of all-time due to us highly grading his 2008 performances. I thought it was absurd to use that as a reason for valuing Cort’s legacy over a player like S2J, who may not have as high as a ranking “peak,” but had a far more active career in a tougher era, with more notable placings.

Pikachu’s response to this was that I had to treat players only as good as they were to the competition of their era. I then said that we shouldn’t place a false equivalency between each era’s competitive validity. These overnight debates were endless.

Both of us realized yet another problem: how do major placings get valued in comparison to opinionated rankings? What happens when a player like Lovage, who was technically ranked in our Top Ten but never made a major top eight, gets compared to a player who has placed higher at events, but may not have been actually “better” in relativee skill?

DETERMINING OUR TALENT POOL: WEIGHTING PLACINGS

Are placings, with all their flaws and misleading implications, still a practical and useful tool for differentiating all-time players? Given that we wanted to address this problem, we then created another list for major placings across Melee history.

This forced us to decide which tournaments were worthy of being considered majors. We put the following as our criteria:

  1. At least three top five players in a given year should be in attendance and competing within the Melee singles bracket for it to be considered a title-level event.

  2. The performance of top five players must be at a level in which the results of said tournament cannot suffer from competitive illegitimacy, due to either sandbagging, bracket manipulation, splitting or any other out-of-game anti-competitive tactics through a majority or significant portion of the tournament.

  3. The tournament must take place after the start of 2004: considered to be the first year of competitive Melee directly relevant to or sharing enough qualities with the modern scene to be a point of comparison.

It’s not entirely accurate, but we believed this to be a generally true guideline for determining an event’s high-level legitimacy. Simultaneously, we knew that winning different events carries different weight. So this forced us to come up with a new solution: categorizing titles.

  Championship: All five of the top five in a year are seriously competing at a given tournament
  Supermajor: Four of the top five players in a year are seriously competing at a given tournament
  National: Three of the top five players in a year are seriously competing at a given tournament

Initially, this idea felt bulletproof. But over time, its flaws were easily noticeable. For example, Jack Garden Tournament is arguably Ken’s most impressive tournament victory, since Japan was considered to have far better smashers than the United States at the time. By our criteria, it didn’t count for a title. We knew we had to once again make an amendment.

  If not following Rule No. 1, a tournament victory in this list must feature at least two of the following to qualify as a title:

  At least two top five players, along with alternative players for whom there is LEGITIMATE REASON to believe had comparable skill talent to be argued for top five at the time of the tournament, but otherwise aren’t ranked top five because of lack of tournament data for MIOM’s SSBMRank, lack of tournament data for Smash History’s RetroSSBMRank, a miniscule disparity in perceived skill with a player technically ranked above him or any other set of forgivable circumstances.

  A victory over an especially dominant current world No. 1 at the time, due to their presumed extraordinary amount of success and the level of impressiveness in which merely winning any tournament over them, presuming they are seriously competing, would be considered a title-esque victory and, in select cases, enough to warrant a tournament from being a national-level title to being a championship.

  Said tournament must have enough “prestige” and history within the scene that winning it carries a level of importance greater than even its competitors – enough to where its status as a tournament may be upgraded from a non-title to a national, national to supermajor and supermajor to championship.

To put it bluntly, we knew these changes were kind of bullshit. But the final clause in particular gave us a way of ensuring that tournaments like The Big House 4, Apex 2014 and EVO 2016 were treated with deserved respect, due to them still hosting five of the best fully active players of the time. Would anyone really consider Apex 2014 anything less than a championship-level event, just because a retired Armada wasn’t in attendance of Melee singles?

Once again, we acknowledged that there were likely going to be inconsistencies with our guidelines. But because we were unable to think of any egregious errors, we felt confident that we had effective guidelines.

The two of us moved on to our next step: seeing which players placed top eight at different title level events in Melee history.

FINAL TOUCHES TO THE TALENT POOL

When we combined the list of players we had from before with the list of top eight placers, we felt assured that we had our top 100 candidates. Just to ensure that we had an accurate pool of players, Pikachu and I added players that had neither placed top eight at a major, nor had qualified via our rankings list. These included players were believed to be fringe candidates worthy of note – people like Crush, Bladewise and Zelgadis.

It wasn’t exactly the most scientific process, but with our combined knowledge of different regions and smash history, we were sure the “outliers” were worthy additions. The final result: a pool of more than 150 people that we felt were worthy of note for being considered candidates for our Top 100 list. Each person also had additional information, including their five best major placings, mains and highest achieved rankings.

After a bit more arguing about player rankings, the two of us decided there could be only one way to solve our disagreements – by bringing others into the mix.

DETERMINING OUR VOTING PANEL

Similar to SSBMRank, Pikachu and I wanted to gather a massive panel of qualified voters from each region to submit their top 100 ballots, based off the data we collected. Outside of ourselves, we came up with over 30 potential voters, including community members like Tafokints, D1, Cactuar, Chillin, Juggleguy and more. I was skeptical of how many people would actually respond, though Pikachu remained optimistic about their potential interest.

Pikachu proved to be right. For half of the people, the answer was a definitive yes. Many others never responded. If you’ve been following me on Twitter for a while, you probably already know how annoyingly persistent and shameless I can be.

https://twitter.com/edwin_budding/status/930264822524018693

https://twitter.com/edwin_budding/status/930259742970318848

https://twitter.com/edwin_budding/status/930259454142156802

Those who said no to the project often gave insightful feedback to why they wouldn’t participate. For people like KoreanDJ, it was because they had been out of the scene for too long to feel qualified to talk about modern players. Players like Lovage and Plank seemed uninterested or unable to dedicate time to voting, which was certainly understandable. Yet it was particularly Wife’s answer that struck a chord with me.

[Screen Shot 2017-11-13 at 9.17.42 AM]

_EDITOR’S NOTE: Say what you want about Wife’s ability to discuss the modern metagame, but even in a Twitter direct message, his writing skills are exceptional. Having read his semi-autobiography before, I wasn’t exactly surprised by Wife’s eloquence, but it still caught me off guard._

_This is one of the reasons why I did not feel it was inappropriate to publish this screenshot of part of our conversation. None of this information was sensitive, portraying anyone in a bad light or out of context – if anything, it forced me to address legitimate concerns about the list._

When I talked to Scar about the project, he offered a similar response, though he said that depending on his own time, he would perhaps be able to commit. One aspect he wanted addressed was particularly something that I was worried about as well: how can we ensure that this isn’t a bad list?

Keeping Scar and Wife in mind, I came up with the following criteria for measuring players, which Pikachu agreed provided a good basis for evaluating players. I’ve included this on each individual ballot I’ve created for the voters on the panel.

  How well did a player perform at the biggest majors of their era?

  How consistent was this player during their active years of competing?

  How long did their playing career last?

  If this player never existed, how much does their absence impact either the metagame, large major results or the greater scene in Melee history?

I’ve attempted to contact different esports platforms about possibly publishing this and providing additional resources (graphics, videos and, quite frankly, compensation) but to date haven’t heard back from any organization. In the mean time, both Pikachu and I decided to keep using my website as the holding place for this content, due to it already being a hub for much of our and my previous work.

Compiling double-digit options on the Melee Top 100 of all time will almost certainly be a logistical nightmare. And the truth is, we really can’t ensure this list goes as smoothly as we’d want.

But it’s still something that could start a conversation. Making a Top 100 players list isn’t just about the recognizable names – it’s about giving respect to the more unknown players who had their own stories worth telling. You might know who Armada is, but what about Eggm? Modern players know n0ne, but do they know Darkrain?

A Top 100 players list is about as close as you can get to making a Melee Hall of Fame (at least without taking into account commentary, frame data researchers, tournament organizers, etc). Pikachu and I think that’s worth pursuing. We know the community will ultimately agree.

I’ll keep all of you updated with the next steps once they’re completed. Until then, thanks for reading.

question: What is the purpose of this passage?

answer: The purpose of this article is to explain how the writer and their partner began to put together a list of the top 100 players of  Super Smash Brother's Melee of all time. The article also explains the methods in which they evaluated players, tournament placements, and past rankings.

question: What is the writer's criteria for evaluating tournaments?

answer: At least three top five players in a given year must be in attendance and competing within the Melee singles bracket for the event to be considered a title-level event. The performance of top five players must be at a level in which the results cannot suffer from competitive illegitimacy. Finally, the tournament must take place after the the start of 2004.

question: What game is being discussed in this passage?

answer: The game is Super Smash Brothers Melee.


text:
[Marek Forgáč in the St Elisabeth Cathedral in Košice in 2019]

MAREK FORGÁČ (born 21 January 1974 in Košice) is Slovak bishop who has been the titular bishop of Seleuciana and the auxiliary bishop of Archdiocese of Košice since 2016. In years 2011 {{--}} 2016, he served as Pro Dean of the Faculty of Theology of the Catholic University in Košice.[1][2][3]

Priesthood

Marek Forgáč has been a priest since his was ordinated by Mons. Alojz Tkáč, archbishop of Košice, on 19 June 1999. He was serving in the parish of Trebišov (1999 {{--}} 2000), the parish of Snina (2000 {{--}} 2001) and the parish of Humenné (2001 {{--}} 2002). Then, in years 2002 {{--}} 2004, he was chaplain in the University Pastoral Centre of St Martyrs of Košice in Košice.[4]

In the following years, he was studying for a Licentiate at Institute of psychology of Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. After the studies, he returned to the University Pastoral Centre of St Martyrs of Košice in Košice as its spiritual administrator. He stayed at this post from 2007 to 2016.[5]

He absolved his doctoral studies at the Faculty of Arts of the University of Trnava in the department of social psychology in years 2008 {{--}} 2012. In years 2011 {{--}} 2016, he served as Pro Dean of the Faculty of Theology of the Catholic University in Košice.[6]

He habilitated as docent at the Faculty of Theology of the Catholic University in Košice in year 2015.[7]

He lectures pastoral and general psychology and clincal, general and applicated psychology of matrimony and family.[8]

Bishop

On 11 June 2016, Pope Francis appointed him as the auxiliary bishop of Archdiocese of Košice and the titular bishop of Seleuciana. His bishop consecration took place in the St Elisabeth Cathedral in Košice on 1 September 2016. Marek Forgáč was ordinated by Bernard Bober, archbishop of Košice, cardinal Jozef Tomko, Prefect emeritus of the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, and Mario Giordana, Apostolic Nuncio in Slovakia.[9]

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title: Marek Forgáč

question: Who is Marek Forgáč?

answer: A Slovak bishop

question: What did Pope Francis appoint Marek Forgáč of?

answer: As the auxiliary bishop of Archdiocese of Košice and the titular bishop of Seleuciana.

question: Where did Marek Forgáč serve as Pro Dean?

answer: He served as Pro Dean of the Faculty of Theology at the Catholic University in Košice

question: What does Marek Forgáč lecture?

answer: Pastoral and general psychology and clinical, general and applied psychology of matrimony and family

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Marek Forgáč is a Slovak bishop who was appointed by Pope Francis as the auxiliary bishop of Archdiocese of Košice and the titular bishop of Seleuciana.


text:
--Wrote this half asleep last night. Please ignore the atrocious grammar e.e"--

Ashley sat her desk and stared at her high school  history book.

“Ugh. Two more years of this crap.” She groaned as she laid her head in her hands. The wooden chair squeaked when she got up to refill her empty glass with more sweat tea. It had been 6 months since her mother was found dead in the bedroom down the hall. They ruled it an accidental over dose, a mix of old and new medications. It really didn’t make sense considering she was only taking two medicines, one for her heart and the other for strange delusions she started having a few months before. She claimed the house was haunted and there was a man that talked to her every night and wanted her to be with him.

The beautiful two story farm house was built in the mid 1700’s by a farmer for his family that had 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. A giant screened in semi wrap around porch with an added outdoor barbecue area her dad built a couple years ago, is where Ashley and her parents spent most of their time.   After her mom died, Ashley’s dad picked up an extra job and was rarely home anymore leaving her alone a lot. Random friends and family would come to check on her here and there but mostly it was a couple hours of awkward silence then a made up excuse for why they had to leave. Instead of just saying it creeps them out to be in a house a person died in.

The teen poured her tea then sat cross legged  on the counter by the stove with the pitcher beside her. With only the dim glow of the clock on the stove, she sat in the dark as she listened to the crickets and whipper wills through the closed kitchen window. She imagined the summer nights her and her mother spent in the hammock outback together under the Oak trees. They used to count the stars and make their own constellations or count the craters on the moon. Her phone broke her flashback by singing her ringtone and she hopped of the counter, put the pitcher up, grabbed her glass then headed up the wooden spiral stair case.  Her boyfriend of 5 years usually called her about this time on his way home from work to check on her and  if she didn’t answer he would come over and use the key she gave him on the side door.

When she reached the top of the steps something caught her eye making her stop in the middle of the hallway and stare at the bedroom down the hall. The door was cracked which was odd because her dad forbid anyone go in there and installed a bolt on it. No even he has been in there since her mom died. Her heart raced a little and her phone stopped ringing then started again. She sprinted towards her door spilling some tea on the way and slammed her  door shut while also locking it. Her cell phone was on her desk across the room but she could read the name on it clearly, Mom.

At this point she dropped her tea glass and covered her mouth with her hands. Her phone stopped ringing but she just stared at it. She didn’t know what to think or even what to do. After a few seconds she launched herself to her desk, snatched her phone up and dialed her boyfriends number. It rang and rang and then a voice answered.

“Ashley?” It was a woman’s voice; her mothers voice. She sounded tired and weak as she spoke but Ashley couldn’t reply. Her body was gripped in fear, confusion, and anger was eating at her. She couldn’t believe Tim would play such a prank on her.
“Who is this?! This isn’t funny!” She screamed and cried into the phone.
“Ashley, the door is open for you. Come see me.” Her voice was heard through the phone as well as through Ashley’s door. She stared at her bedroom door unable to move or even breathe. The handle on her door started to turn and then it flew open, but, there was no one there. She looked at her phone but there was only her lock screen, as if there was never a call. Slowly, with her whole body shaking, she walked to her open door and peered out of it to the room down the hall. The bedroom door was open wider now and she could see an outline of something in the doorway with the faint light of the moon through the window in there. Ashley gripped her phone to her chest as she ventured down the hallway, scared completely out of her mind, yet un able to control her body. The outline got clearer the closer she got and she could tell it was the man her mother always talked about. He smiled a smile of pointed teeth  and glowing eyes before he lunged towards her, passing through her body. She felt her breath leaving her body and heard her mothers voice whispering to her.
“Now we will always be together.”
As everything faded into darkness she could here Tim yelling her name from the kitchen; but she would never see him again.

title: [MS] The man down the hall

question: Who killed Ashley, and how?

answer: The ghost of the man that haunted her mom killed her, but it seems like Ashley's mother also played a part posthumously to be together with Ashley.

question: List the weird events about Ashley's mom.

answer: She talked about a man that haunted her at home. The doctors said the cause of her death was an accidental overdose, but she was using only two medications. The door to her and her husband's old bedroom, which was bolted shut by him, looks slightly ajar on the day of the story's events. She calls Ashley on her cell, and her voice is the one responding when Ashley calls Tim.

question: Elaborate on the behavior of Ashley's friends regarding their excuses to leave.

answer: They visit her to check on her but leave because the house feels creepy for them. That's because her mother died there after a few months of complaining about a man that haunts the house.

question: List the details mentioned about the house.

answer: It's a house with two floors, made in the 18th century. It has 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. There's a barbecue area outside. The bedroom door is bolted shut after the death of Ashley's mom.

question: Write a ~8 sentence summary.

answer: Ashley is bored reading her high school history book. It's six months after her mother died under suspicious circumstances, and her father had to pick up a second job. Her friends and boyfriend would visit here and there, but most people left after a while. Her phone rings, but she notices the bolted-shut bedroom door to be slightly ajar. When she enters her room, the name on the phone is not her boyfriend Tim as she expected, but her mom. She calls Tim, but her mom's voice answers, saying the door is open for her. After that, she sees the ghostly man her mother talked about before she died. He reaches for her, and Ashley dies as her mother murmurs "Now, we will always be together."


text:
The first season of _Dynasty_ originally aired in the United States on ABC from January 12 through April 20, 1981. The series, created by Richard and Esther Shapiro and produced by Aaron Spelling, revolves around the Carringtons, a wealthy family residing in Denver, Colorado.

Season one stars John Forsythe as millionaire oil magnate Blake Carrington; Linda Evans as his new wife Krystle; Pamela Sue Martin as Blake's headstrong daughter Fallon; Al Corley as Blake's earnest son Steven; John James as playboy Jeff Colby; Wayne Northrop as Carrington chauffeur Michael Culhane; Bo Hopkins as Denver–Carrington geologist Matthew Blaisdel; Pamela Bellwood as Matthew's troubled wife Claudia; Katy Kurtzman as Matthew and Claudia's teenage daughter Lindsay Blaisdel; and Dale Robertson as wildcatter Walter Lankershim. Notable recurring performers include Lee Bergere as Carrington majordomo Joseph Anders, and Lloyd Bochner as Jeff's uncle, Cecil Colby.

Development

Aaron Spelling, already well known for his successful ABC series, including _Starsky and Hutch_, _Charlie's Angels_, _The Love Boat_, _Fantasy Island_, _Vega$_ and _Hart to Hart_,[1] took on Richard and Esther Shapiro's vision of a rich and powerful family who “lived and sinned” in a 48-room Denver mansion.[2] Esther Shapiro said that an inspiration for the show was _I, Claudius_, a fictionalized depiction of the Julio-Claudian dynasty of Roman emperors.[3] Shapiro said in 1985, “We wanted to do something that would be fun, an American fantasy. We thought people had seen enough stories where families fell apart. We wanted a strong, nineteenth-century sort of family where people were in conflict but loved each other in spite of everything.”[4]

Intended by ABC to be a competitor for CBS's _Dallas_,[5] the working title for _Dynasty_ was _Oil_.[6] In early drafts of the pilot script, the two main families featured in the series were known as the Parkhursts and Corbys; by the time production began, they had been renamed the Carringtons and Colbys. George Peppard was cast as series patriarch Blake Carrington, but ultimately had difficulties dealing with the somewhat unsympathetic role,[7] and was quickly replaced with John Forsythe. Filmed in 1980, the pilot was among many delayed due to a strike precipitated by animosity between the television networks and the partnership of the Screen Actors Guild and the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists. _Dynasty_ finally premiered on ABC as a three-hour event on January 12, 1981.[8] The first season was ranked #28 in the United States.[9]

Esther Shapiro later said in the DVD commentary of the first season, “The audience told us almost immediately: All they wanted to do was be in the mansion. [They] couldn't care less about the oil fields. They didn't want to see grubby rooms.”[10]

Plot

As _Dynasty_ begins, powerful oil tycoon Blake Carrington is about to marry the younger Krystle Jennings, his former secretary.[11] Beautiful, earnest, and new to Blake's world, Krystle finds a hostile reception in the Carrington household—the staff patronizes her, and Blake's headstrong and promiscuous daughter Fallon resents her. Though devoted to Krystle, Blake himself is too preoccupied with his company, Denver-Carrington, and blind to Krystle's predicament. Her only ally is her stepson Steven, whose complicated relationship with Blake stems from their fundamental political differences and Steven's resistance to step into his role as future leader of the Carrington empire. Meanwhile, Fallon, better suited to follow in Blake's footsteps, is (as a woman) underestimated by and considered little more than a trophy to her father. She channels her energies into toying with various male suitors, including the Carrington chauffeur Michael Culhane. At the end of the three-hour premiere episode “Oil”, Steven finally confronts his father, criticizing Blake's capitalistic values and seemingly amoral business practices.[12] Blake explodes, revealing the secret of which Steven thought his father was unaware: Blake is disgusted by Steven's homosexuality, and his refusal to “conform” sets father and son at odds for some time.[13][14]

In counterpoint to the Carringtons are the Blaisdels; Denver-Carrington geologist Matthew—unhappily married to the emotionally fragile Claudia—is Krystle's ex-lover. Returning from an extended assignment in the Middle East, Matthew quits and goes into business with wildcatter Walter Lankershim. As Blake's behavior begins pushing Krystle toward Matthew, the men are set as both business and romantic rivals.[15] Blake is further enraged when Steven goes to work for longtime friend Matthew, in whom Steven sees qualities lacking in Blake. Though previously in a relationship with another man, Steven finds himself drawn to Claudia, who is putting her life back together after spending time in a psychiatric hospital.[16]

Fallon makes a secret business deal with Blake's old friend and more-powerful business rival Cecil Colby, marrying his nephew Jeff to secure Cecil's financial assistance for her father. When Blake stumbles upon Steven in an innocent goodbye embrace with his former lover Ted Dinard (Mark Withers), Blake angrily pushes the two men apart; Ted falls backward and hits his head, the injury proving fatal.[17][18] Blake is arrested and charged with murder,[19] and an angry Steven testifies that Ted's death had been the result of malicious intent. A veiled surprise witness for the prosecution appears in the season finale “The Testimony”, and Fallon gasps in recognition: “Oh my God, that's my mother!”[20][21]

Cast

Main

-   John Forsythe as Blake Carrington
-   Linda Evans as Krystle Carrington
-   Pamela Sue Martin as Fallon Carrington
-   Pamela Bellwood as Claudia Blaisdel
-   Al Corley as Steven Carrington
-   John James as Jeff Colby
-   Wayne Northrop as Michael Culhane
-   Katy Kurtzman as Lindsay Blaisdel
-   Dale Robertson as Walter Lankershim
-   Bo Hopkins as Matthew Blaisdel

Recurring

-   Lloyd Bochner as Cecil Colby
-   Peter Mark Richman as Andrew Laird
-   Lee Bergere as Joseph Anders
-   Mark Withers as Ted Dinard
-   Brian Dennehy as Jake Dunham

Episodes

Reception

The first season of _Dynasty_ was “modestly popular” among viewers,[22] ranking #28 in the United States with a 19.0 Nielsen rating, while #1 series _Dallas_ achieved a 31.8 rating that season.[23] Season one of _Dynasty_ aired on Monday nights.[24][25] ABC rebroadcast the season in summer 1981 at 10:00 PM on Wednesdays, the new time slot for season two, and initiated a media blitz to promote the series.[26]

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title: Dynasty (1981 TV series, season 1)

question: Summarize the plot of the series, Dynasty (1981).

answer: Dynasty is about Blake Carrington's relationship with his family, company, and rivals. Blake is due to marry Krystle, his former secretary. However, Krystle is finding it difficult to settle down with Blake's family undermining her and being hostile towards her. Blake, on the other hand, is too preoccupied with his companies and business dealings to pay much attention to what is happening around his wife-to-be. His son, Steven, does not like Blake's business' practices and often says so. Blake, on the other hand, is disgusted with his son's sexual preference and confronted him about it.

question: How did Blake learn about his son's sexuality?


text:
[Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt-Publicity Still-H 2019]
Eric Liebowitz/Netflix

Three months after wrapping its four-season run on Netflix, _Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt_ is returning.

The streamer on Wednesday announced that it is reteaming with creators Tina Fey and Robert Carlock for an interactive special featuring stars Ellie Kemper, Tituss Burgess, Jane Krakowski and Carol Kane. The special is similar to Netflix's _Black Mirror_ film _Bandersnatch_ in that viewers will be able to make choices for the characters.

"We're thrilled to announce that we’re about to start production on an all-new interactive _Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt_ special, set to debut on Netflix in 2020," Fey said Wednesday during a Netflix For Your Consideration Emmy panel. "_Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt_ was one of the first original comedy series on Netflix, and now it will be its first interactive comedy event. Fans will be able to make choices on behalf of our characters, taking different story paths with, of course, different jokes. I think it’s a great fit for our show and will be a great way to officially complete the series."

Fey and Carlock will return to executive produce alongside Jeff Richmond, Sam Means and David Miner. The special, like __Unbreakable_ Kimmy Schmidt_, hails from Universal Television.

The special arrives after Fey and Carlock hinted that an announcement about a planned _Kimmy Schmidt_ movie would be coming soon. We now seem to have the answer.

[Lesley Goldberg]

question: Why are they bringing back Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt?

answer: It will complete the series.

question: If Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is released in 2020, how long will it have been off air?

answer: About a year

question: What's the main idea of the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt Netflix special?

answer: The main idea is to have fans choose their own path in regards to the characters, story, and jokes.

question: What a probable reason that Bandersnatch was the inspiration?

answer: It's not said in the article, but it can be assumed it's because the creators of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt enjoyed Bandersnatch. It could also be because Bandersnatch was a success, and having the same layout as that show would mean success for theirs.


text:
I’ve always had a passion for ruins of all kinds, from devastated buildings to graveyards long since abandoned. Bonus points for a combination of the two, or some other form of ruins even more exquisite. It just so happens that tonight (yes, at night!) I had been going for a stroll down the wooded roads near where I lived and happened upon some ruins. Not as if I purposely search out these ruins, because that would be creepy, which I most certainly am not! If I wanted to up the ante I could say I waited for a particularly clear night where the full moon bathed the world, even under the trees where I lived. It wasn’t a particularly cold night. The rain from earlier in the day left a sticky, humid air, which helped warm the night further, if being out on a warmer night can even dispel this particular brand of creepy.

  Off the road and through the trees I just caught a glimpse of something that appealed to my particular interests. Who’d a thought I would find something like this way off the beaten path! I figured why not seize this opportunity to examine this totally unexpected discovery. I looked around to make sure nobody else could see me – not sure why – turned on my heel, and marched through the woods, being extra careful not to scratch myself on the various small plants and thorn vines. Last thing I want now is to get slowed down and scratched up by some pesky plants. As I approached what I so obviously just now found out was ruins of an abandoned house, I entered a clearing. I can say almost certainly that nobody has seen this house in a long time. The fact that I saw it the first time, visible only by a bit of crumbling chimney, noticeable only when you peer through the trees in just the right way, observable only to those with the keenest eye for tell-tale signs like these, was almost miraculous. And I’m not one to look a gift ruin in the, uh, window, metaphorically speaking. The moonlight streaming down into the clearing almost seemed to grow stronger, showing me the full contents of the clearing, which, curiously enough, was almost a perfect circle.

In the very center was not one house, but two wooden houses not quite neighboring, but by virtue of their entrances being parallel to each other, appeared to be locked in an eternal staring contest, doors for  mouths,  their second floor windows appearing almost as if they were eyes, with the loser being the one who crumbles first. Both competitors seemed to be going strong, but I could see the weariness in them. Their lack of paint only added to the dreary, tired appearance. It could hardly be said that they had ever been painted at all.  The sides of the house to my left had been crushed by a tree, its injuries left for nature to deal with as it pleased. The house to the right was in a more complete form, with the second floor left window, facing the entrance, shattered, and the door busted down. Nature may have left it in once full piece, but had dealt it many more beatings on its walls, and even holes in them towards the back of the side facing me, and on the second floor, visible from the window, even from the ground where I was. Despite this wreckage, I found the right house to be more appealing, if I was forced to live in it. I might even consider sleeping here tonight, if I wasn’t worried about the myriad of bugs, the plethora of fungi, varying weather patterns, and the reaction my parents would give when I waltzed through the front door after spending a night who-knows-where to them   The rest of the clearing contained pretty standard stuff: the left house had a swing-set, knocked out of the ground and laying on the side of its frame, front feet up on the air, and narrowly avoiding the path of destruction left from the fallen tree; bits of broken house and rotted planks lay scattered about; a dirt path between them leading back to the road, but so overgrown that it tapered off before it could reach close enough to the road to even be noticed. The road went past the houses and curved around both of them. Rather than following them, I just assumed that they lead to gardens kept at the back or side of the houses. Behind both houses, and clearly visible from where I was standing, were clothes wires. One house had only one post of them standing, while the other was not so lucky.

And finally, it was time to pick a house! I would like to say I deliberated on my decision, but it was an unfair contest: the right house, in its more complete glory, would be first. I began the short trek to the door, while I glanced around, taking in my surroundings. The steps into the right house were not so lucky as to be stone. I – carefully – climbed the stairs dodging the obviously rotten spots that could cave in below my weigh. Lucky for me, the door was bashed in at an angle enough for me to be able to step over the corner of the corner. It almost would have felt like a luxury to be able to swing the door on its hinges, but even if it could be standing upright completely, the top hinge had been torn off with the door by whatever force had bashed the door down in the first place. Having passed my first barrier, I had to stop yet again to take in my surroundings. To my left was a staircase, starting the incline from the furthest wall of the house from the entrance. Underneath the staircase was a shutter door, so I can only assume it was a storage room. Maybe it has skeletons! Ooh, so creepy. Moving on: this main room appeared to be a living room of sorts, with two chairs separated by a small table, all facing a fireplace. Directly in front of the door was a short hallway. Having seen all of this bare entrance room, I pressed on down the hallway. There were two rooms on the far side of the hall. The right room was the first I peered into. It seemed to be a bathroom. Maybe these buildings weren’t as old as I thought, as more modern amenities (namely a toilet) were present, but they were still old. The layout was pretty standard: bathtub on the far side of the room, toilet to the right, and a sink on the left wall. I exited the room and went through the left room on the hall. It was a kitchen, without a refrigerator, but the counters and cabinets were in worn condition. Next to the kitchen, on the far left wall, was another doorway, this time leading into a dining room. Not much to see here except scattered chairs. I went back out to the main room through the available door at the far side of this room, and went around the staircase. Now was as good a time as any to explore the upstairs. I carefully ascended the steps. That’s the thing about abandoned houses: all fixtures have to be handled with care, especially the chairs. Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the stairs. There wasn’t much to the upstairs: just a large room with two joined rooms on either side, both of which appeared to be bedrooms.

I went to the right bedroom. From my new vantage point, I figured I would examine the clearing the window. I had a clear view to the outside. Probably too clear. It was so clear, in fact, that I swear I saw a black figure scamper around the corner of the other house. I got spooked for some reason. For all I know, it was just a squirrel, but something made me imagine that the reality was much worse. I found myself shaking and my knees wobbling as I hastily descended to the ground floor once again. By the time I reached the front door, I was shaking violently. I started to hurry for the exit from the clearing, but I felt compelled to stay. I had to find out what the black figure was, even if it killed me. The audacity of the thought of me fleeing from a miniscule rodent repulsed me, and with a deep breath, I turned around, and began my march to the left house. I could feel my resolve draining as I approached the wall of the house. I inched closer and closer, until I could lean on the wall for support. I continued slowly to the corner of the house, and took another deep breath. I didn’t understand why I was so fearful, since I had no rational reason to be scared. Finally, after mentally preparing myself as much as possible, I finally poked my head around the corner. What did I see? I saw nothing more than, well, nothing. I exhaled slowly, and I could feel myself finally relaxing over the span of a minute while I stared at the empty ground. Right before I could finally head to the exit, I heard a bark.

At this point you could imagine I was thoroughly spooked. And I was! I spun around and prepared to dash for the exit at record speeds when I happened to notice what caused the bark. It was just a little dog, no higher than midway to my knee. It was small, black fur with brown around the face and legs. But most of all, it was familiar. I could see it in the aged, cloudy eyes, and the oily appearance of the fur; the shaggy hair and the look of a Yorkshire Terrier. This wasn’t just a dog. This was my dog, Sassy. My dead dog Sassy, if that means anything. Worse was the look it had. Behind those old eyes was a noticeable vacancy. If that wasn’t a dead giveaway (pardon the pun, please), then I don’t know what is. Something was wrong about this. This persistent eerie feeling I had when I first saw the clearing was as strong as ever now. I was shaking all over, and as I looked even deeper into Sassy’s eyes, I saw anger. Not anger at something else, but anger all channeled at me. When I saw that anger, I knew I had to get out of there even faster than I had desired to when I first saw her figure scramble around the side of the house, before I even knew what she was.

Having stared longer into the eyes of a dead creature than anybody could ever advise, it was time to abscond, without a doubt. I knew I had to pass my darling dog to reach the exit, unless I’d rather get lost with a dead thing hot on my tail for who knows how long. It was now or never. I dashed around her in a large arc and I ran as fast as my legs could take me. No, I ran faster than any pair of legs ever could take me. After running for what felt simultaneously like an eternity and a few measly seconds, I turned my head to see if it was following me, but to my surprise, it wasn’t. As I turned my head toward the exit again, everything appeared to slow down. What should have been the blur of the trees as I swung my head back around instead merged into a lighter brown, and then into the white color of painted walls. I saw light, regular light, like from a ceiling. I seemed to be at home, in my empty foyer. The sudden transition with the entire blur of light and motion, the adrenaline, and the sudden stop all made me feel weak and sick, and I tumbled to the floor. It felt good to be at home. But something felt off. I rolled to my back and sprawled out, trying to relax, when I heard the trotting of clawed paws approaching me. I reached my hand out, expecting to feel the warmth of one of my definitely alive dogs, but all I felt was dead cold. I yanked by hand back to me, and the thing I felt took my arm’s place, staring at my face. I say staring, but it had a black bag over its head that held tight and revealed the shape of the face, that gave the appearance of something buried in some form of ritual. I could tell by the freezing touch and the feel of the fur that this was Sassy. She stood, as small as she is, towering above my face, like a monster, majestic and utterly terrifying. Worst of all was the feeling of death that transcended all logical and physical possibility. It was a feeling like everything for miles was dead, and that I too would die in fear, as everything else that breathed this air surely felt.

I would have rather died right then and there, before the feeling and the air made its way into me. I felt as if, with my surge of adrenaline, I just pumped this fear through me faster. And after it had passed through me entirely, it would take root in my mind for good and I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I would go insane if this dreadful feeling continued. But that would not be what got to me. What pushed me over the edge entirely was the sound that escaped the mouth from behind the mask. The sound was worse, more chilling than a dying man’s scream. It was worse than the collective scream of every dying man through the history of mankind. It was a scream that shook me, made my blood run cold as ice, practically freezing in my veins. It was more than the howl of every wolf, of the cry of every animal slain. It was the wail of a banshee, piercing, painful, unmistakable. This screech was my undoing. In a matter of minutes, insanity gripped me and squeezed me and pulled and pushed me until no longer would I be able to withstand it. I needed a way out. I had a way out, I needed a way out: death. My only available tool? My bare hands.

title: Vacant Eyes

question: What does the story say about optometry?


text:
**Beware this is my beginning of a long story a plan to write about a hypothetical serial killer, and this passage is morbid.** Also this is a very rough draft so excuse spelling mistakes or the overuse of contractions.

 There were always rumors of a serial killer so evil, so demented, so monstrous, so gruesome, and so evil that he was looked at as more of the hypothetical monster under humanities bed than a real psychopath that needs to be hunted down and exposed. In this short story I am going to describe the infamous and horrible tale of what can be only called as “the monstrosity.”

The monstrosity was born in 1945, his exact date of birth is unknown, he was born in Midwestern America; most likely Kansas. His father was a hulk of a man who conceived him when he brutally raped his own daughter, the violence in the monster’s life began before he was even born. His mother lets call her Lesly was only seventeen years old when she gave birth to the monstrosity, who was born about three weeks premature. Lesly almost died in childbirth because the monster’s father (lets call him Larry) continued to beat her during the pregnancy which led to the premature and extremely painful birth. The doctors predicted the monstrosity would not live through the night...oh how wrong they were; looking back if the doctors knew of the evil they allowed to enter the world, they may have had no problem suffocating that small innocent child right there and then.
The monstrosity had no serious health problems from the violent birth, except for the fact that he would never grow taller than 5'5 even as a grown man; this monster’s height comes into play later and can be looked at as a curse or a blessing depending on how you read this evil’s story.

The monster’s father Larry remarried shortly after he was born, he lied to all about the real mother of the monster. Being a minor still Lesly was forced to continue to live with Larry and his new wife Marie even after all the abuse and pain he had caused her, she wouldn't run away because she felt her son deserved a real mother not a life of lies. So, for the next three-years she worked hard at her job as a waitress to save enough money to move out of the abusive home with her son and get her own place. The abuse of Lesly continued throughout these years but Larry didn’t touch his son the monster because he respected the fact that his son had a keen likeness to himself, and resented the fact that his own daughter Lesly wanted to turn his own child against him. Larry wasn't a sociopath but he was a monster by his own merit, he didn't understand why his daughter hated him and thought he was a useless excuse for a men let alone a father; even though he sexually and physically abused her after her mother passed away from cancer when Lesly was about nine-years old. Larry tried to turn the monster who was about four years old by this point against his true mother Lesly and make him love his wife Marie and him as parents.

Now, for a moment let us observe what know about Larry’s second wife Marie...she was about twenty-six years old married to Larry a much older man and little is known about her background or early-life. What we do know however straight from the words of our little monster is that she was an extremely beautiful woman; about 5’9, luscious blond hair, long legs, a nice curvy midsection, and most of all her skin according to the monster was softer than any other woman he ever met. But that all comes in to play later in this story of true evil.
I will set the scene for the beginnings of our little monster’s first look at death and real cruelty. Of course the monster was exposed to the beatings of his real mother Lesly from time to time, but Marie did her best to keep the monster away from such things. You may be thinking why would a woman as beautiful as I described Marie as be with a violent man like Larry and allow him to abuse his adult daughter? Well, since little is known about Marie’s personality (at this point in time) I guess we can just say love works in mysterious ways and in this case ends up intertwined with death and unknowingly creating pure evil. Anyway, back to the story...Lesly finally saved up enough money to take the monster away from this hateful environment and get her own nice place. But Larry and Marie didn’t like that idea, they didn’t believe that Lesly really worked for that money and accused her of prostituting herself to make the money. They called her all sorts of names, not knowing that our little monster was hiding under the bed in his mother’s room just taking all this in. Like I said he had witnessed violence before, but never had he witnessed such abuse in a verbal sense they broke his mother down. Lesly wasn't the most emotionally sound woman due to her father’s abuse and it didn't take much to break her, and by the end of the verbal abuse from Marie and Larry which went on for almost an hour she just sat in the corner wet with her own tears and ashamed that she allowed them to do that to her.

Then something happened to Lesly as she set there wallowing in her own pain and self-hate...she snapped. This young woman who received awful abuse by her own father her whole life finally snapped. She hated him with such passion, who was he to abuse her and then coddle her son like he was a decent human being when he was the one who raped her and almost killed her from beatings during her pregnancy! Lesly was not a small woman, her father Larry was about 6’6 and 250-pounds and he passed those genes onto his daughter; she was 6’3 but her weight was unknown. She grabbed Larry’s baseball bat that he used to occasionally use to beat her when he wasn't playing on the local softball team with it, and she waited in the room until she heard Marie go into her room and fall asleep. She left her room, and shortly after the monster (without her knowledge) followed her into the hallway and watched her.

She saw that Larry was passed out on the couch and she snuck up behind him, only his head was exposed from under the covers. Lesly raised the bat above her head and slammed it back down with all the might and power she had within her body. The sound of Larry’s skull cracking was sickening to the soul of a normal person...you could hear the skull break apart into small fragments and slice through the brain matter. You could taste the blood in the air and feel the lack of Larry’s existence within it. Even though our monster was only four or five years old, he describes the event with such vivid remembrance as if it was his first memory. And maybe it was, because in my opinion this moment and what happened next is what creates our little monster as he really is or will be for the rest of his so called life.

Larry was near dead after the first blow, but Lesly didn't know that and probably felt more powerful and in control than she ever had before in her entire life. She kept hitting him over and over, she destroyed his face so completely that it would take a ton of work for the cops to identify his body without just assuming. The monster describes hearing the life leave Larry’s body but instead of like it is in film he described it as just a silence within the room as if Larry’s soul or whatever made him alive had just been removed from the area. The silence as he described it was quieter than anything he would experience for a long time after.

Than the silence was broken by Lesly yelling at the monster “go to your room, you shouldn't see this baby.” Her voice wasn't the same though it sounded different than the mother the monster though he knew, it sounded emptier as if the love Lesly held for him had exited her. And even at five years old the monster says that he felt the difference.

title: The monstrosity

question: Who is the evil character of the story?

answer: A demented serial killer

question: What is the time period of the story?

answer: mid 20th century

question: Who births the evil serial killer?

answer: Larry's daughter, Lesly, is raped by her own father and births the serial killer.

question: Who kills Larry?

answer: His daughter Lesly, the serial killer's mother, kills him by smashing his skull with a bat.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer:
In 1945, an evil serial killer is born in Midwestern America. He is born after his father raped his own daughter. His father remarries but as a minor, his mother is forced to continue living in the same house.
The abuse on his mother continued and his father even tries to turn the child against his own mother.
One of the child's earliest memories was when his mom one day grab a bat and smashes the father's skull until he became unrecognizable.


text:
“Do you really think he’s in there?”  I shouted to Mkente as I unsaddled my bag.
“I believe so,” he said. “If you’re going to catch the wild Floofapootamus, he will be in here.”
“Good,” I said as I ventured into the dark cave. There were bats hanging on the ceiling, and one swooped down inches away from my face, looking more like a flying goblin then a bat. His face was gnarled and wicked, and he shrieked like nails on a chalkboard. Now my heart began to pound wildly, and I knew this trip would not be easy. Unfortunately, I had no choice, for it was my destiny to meet the wild Floofapootamus.
After about ten minutes of hiking through the forest of stalagmites, we came across the river of the Watamug. Legend has it that the vicious Watamug roams these shallow waters, and the only way to protect yourself from it is to shoot with an arrow. This arrow has to be covered in snake venom and has to pierce the Watamug through the nose. If you fail, you will be torn to shreds. If you succeed, the arrow will exit the nose encased in solid gold, and you will be allowed to pass. I took a poisoned arrow with me just in case, but Mkente thought I was being superstitious. Right as I loaded my arrow, a noise came from down the river. It sounded like gravel being crushed into pieces, and was so hideous I covered my ears. As I looked up from my loaded bow, I saw the most hideous thing in the world. It looked like a giant catfish walking on hairy spider legs, 14 of them to be exact. Its snout was only about 1 foot, so I would have to aim well from 10 meters away, where I was. The Watamug raised its upper body like a cobra raises its head, and hissed at me. Mkente screamed as this happened, and the Watamug turned to see where the noise had come from. I knew this was my only chance. I fired at his nose and the arrow went right through, coming out the other side as yellow as the sun. The Watamug collapsed, and I yanked the arrow from its head. The arrow was at least 4 pounds heavier than it had been before, and I was sure it would be worth thousands. I stuffed it into my backpack as Mkente and I leaped across the glistening creek, still shaking from our recent encounter.
“I have a question for you,” Mkente said.
“And?” I replied.
“Why are we going all this way just to see a Floofapootamus?” he questioned.
“I need to catch this Floofapootamus. It’s my destiny,” I answered. “I’m sure you know the legend of the Floofapootamus,” I said as we winded our way through the damp, rocky tunnels.
“Of course,” said Mkente. “Whoever severs its horn and plays it will be able to ask for anything, and it will be given to them by the gods of wisdom.
“Yes!” I said. “And I need something very important, for I believe it will give me limitless power.”
“What is it?” replied Mkente.
“I can’t tell you, for then I won’t be able to receive it.” I said.
All of a sudden a large rocky alter rose from the ground with a thunder-like rumble and made a loud bang as it clicked into place.
“ARE YOU HERE TO SEE THE FLOOFAPOOTAMUS?” it boomed.
“Um…yes.”  I said. “I am on a mission to ask the gods the ultimate question.”
“OKAY, BUT FIRST YOU MUST PROVE YOU ARE WORTHY AND COMMITED. PLACE THE GOLDEN ARROW ON THE ALTER AS PENNANCE TO THE GODS,” it echoed.
“No way!” yelled Mkente. “That’s got to be worth at least $10,000!”
“WOULD YOU LIKE TO QUESTION THE GODS, OR HAVE MONEY?”
“Let’s just give him the arrow,” I said as I handed it over.
“GOOD,” the voice boomed. “YOU ARE WORTHY.”
The alter then descended back through the floor of the cave and disappeared as soon as it had come. Mkente and I continued on, unsure of what we would encounter next in this mysterious cave. We were now tired, hungry, and out of weapons.  We found an outcropping on the wall by which we could put our tent, so we decided to set up camp for the night. We straggled to build our tent lit by only a torch, and when we were finished we fell asleep immediately. It had been a long, adventurous day.
I woke up to the shrill noise of a scream. I jumped into the air immediately and looked around our small canvas tent. Mkente wasn’t there.
“Mkente! Mkente! Where are you?”  I screamed as I unzipped the tent and looked
Around. I heard another scream, this time coming from about thirty feet up the path. I ran all the way as fast as I could only to find something horrific-Mkente dangling by one hand on the edge of a humongous pit in the floor.
“Mkente!  Are you okay?” I questioned as I pulled him up from the edge of the pit.
“Yea, I’m fine,” He said in his peculiar, thick accent. “I have no idea what happened. One second I was looking around looking for firewood, the next I’m hanging for my life.”
“I’m just glad no one got hurt,” I said. “However, I have no idea how we’re going to cross that pit,” I explained to Mkente.
“I wonder how deep it is,” he replied. Then, suddenly, a slimy tentacle slithered out of the pit.
“Wha…? What is that?” said Mkente shakily as more and more of the hideous creature rose out.
“I have no idea,’ I said. “But it doesn’t look good.”
Just as I said this the rest of the creature crawled out.  It was a cuddly teddy bear-with 40 foot long tentacles.
“It’s the Floofapootamus!”  I screamed as I drew my sword. Its single horn stood erect 10 feet in the air, and I had no idea how I was going to cut it off.  The Floofapootamus leaned over and growled at me, obviously furious that I had interrupted its sleep.  It lashed a tentacle out at Mkente, and he was hurled 40 feet where he landed with a crash in a pile of bones. It leaned over again, this time to get a better look at its new enemies. I realized this was my chance.  I ran full speed to the edge of the pit…and jumped. I leapt as high as I could and latched on to the stuffed animal’s leg. It howled a yell that was the scariest thing I had ever heard, and then started trying to shake me off. Unfortunately for the Floofapootamus, I was already hacking away at its horn. It opened its mouth and I gazed into a hideous cavern spiked with crooked teeth, ready to eat me at any moment.  Just then I tore off its horn, but the weight of it in my hands threw me into the beast’s tentacle, which promptly threw me into the skeleton pit where Mkente was lying unconscious. I tried to shake him awake, and he began to come to. However, the Floofapootamus was reaching one of its tentacles out at us.  I knew what I had to do. I propped the gigantic horn against a stalagmite and blew as hard as I could. YMCA by the Village people then began blaring from the opposite side and the Floofapootamus froze, its eyes glowing bright green. In a deep voice it moaned, “What do you ask of me?”
I knew exactly what to say. “With my one wish, I demand a sitar.”
“What, are you crazy!” shouted Mkente. “You could have anything, and you think a sitar will give you limitless power!”
“Just wait!” I yelled.  A sitar began to materialize in my hands, and I just basked in the joy of the moment for a minute.  I was living my destiny. The Floofapootamus was beginning to recede back into its hole, but I strummed a Rajastan folk song on the Indian instrument. The Floofapootamus instantly rose again, this time its eyes gold.
“You are wise,” it said. “And clearly worthy. You have discovered my secret, and I am now at your command”
As Mkente stared in awe, I climbed on top of the beast’s back.
“To McDonalds!”  I yelled as the beast lumbered out of the cave, leaving Mkente behind.
“Wait!” he yelled. “You can’t leave me!”
“Yes, in fact I can,” I stated. “You doubted the magic of the sitar,” I proclaimed as we went off to get Happy Meals.

title: Wrote this at age 10...WTF IS WRONG WITH ME?!

question: What does the story say about battle?

answer: The narrator and Mkele encounter the Watamug, and the narrator shoots an arrow through its nose. When they reach a deep pit, they are attacked by the Floofapootamus. The narrator draws his sword. The Floofapootamus lashes out at Mkente with a tentacle. The narrator latches onto the animal's leg and then tears off its horn.

question: What does the story say about the origins of the Floofapootamus?


text:
BIRGER AXEL RASMUSSON (19 June 1901 – 3 May 1964) was a Finnish chess player, Finnish Chess Championship winner (1933).

Biography

From the late 1920s to the late 1930s, Birger Axel Rasmusson was one of Finland's leading chess players. In 1933, he won the title of Finnish Chess Champion in a match against Ragnar Krogius – 6½ : 3½ , but lost that title a year later in a match against Eero Böök – 3½ : 5½.

Birger Axel Rasmusson known for his victory over Paul Keres at the 1935 Chess Olympiad (in the same year, Keres took revenge at the tournament in Helsinki).[1][2]

Birger Axel Rasmusson played for Finland in the Chess Olympiads:[3]

-   In 1927, at second board in the 1st Chess Olympiad in London (+2, =10, -3),
-   In 1930, at first board in the 3rd Chess Olympiad in Hamburg (+2, =4, -7),
-   In 1935, at second board in the 6th Chess Olympiad in Warsaw (+4, =4, -9).

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Birger Axel Rasmusson

question: How old was Rasmusson when he first won a championship?

answer: 32 years old.

question: Who was Rasmusson's most known rival?

answer: Paul Keres.

question: How many Olympiads did Rasmusson partake in?

answer: Three.

question: For how long was Rasmusson the Finnish chess leader?

answer: Somewhere between 20 to 30 years.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Birger Axel Rasmusson (19 June 1901 – 3 May 1964) was a Finnish chess player and a winner of the 1933 Finnish Chess Championship. He was the leading chess player in Finland from the 1920s to the 1930s. He's known for his rivalry with Paul Keres, winning against him in the 1935 Olympiads, for which Keres returned the favor at the tournament in Helsinki.