I love you. I want to be with you forever. I know we’ve never spoken before in person. I know there’s a lot to say and maybe even more to do… but I love you. I can’t get you out of my head. I have tried, but you just won’t leave it, no matter what I do. Your eyes are burned into my soul and I see them every time I turn around. Quiet, searching, calm, cool. That’s you. Maybe even sensitive… I almost believe hearing you think about how you shouldn’t stare, it’s impolite. I wish I knew why you looked away first. Hell, I wish you never looked away at all, that we were still locked in combat like a Mexican stare-down…
I tried to keep away from you. I tried a lot of things to just get you off my mind. I tried watching endless binge sessions of television and Netflix. I tried reading tons of books. Every time there’s a mysterious woman character, I think of you. There are a lot more than you’d think, too. I’d say every book I read since that day has made me think of you, somehow, some way.
I think about what you might do when you’re not at Wegmans, shopping. How is it that you can come in at random like that? What kind of job allows you to shop daily at any point during the day? I can’t figure it out, but still, you appeared and went about your business.
Now I can’t find you. I’m not at Wegmans anymore and I keep going back to Big Lots at the end of the month, hoping to run into you there. I keep going all kinds of places, looking for you. I go about my daily grind, hoping to catch glimpse of a wild mane of hair somewhere, a bright thing to drag my eyes to it and then perhaps see your eyes and your smile, if I’m really lucky. I’ve only seen you smile once. I wish it was at me. It wasn’t… it was at nothing in particular, I think.
You were talking to yourself, and I know I heard you doing it at Big Lots. I thought maybe you were on a hands-free phone call at first, but the more I watched you surreptitiously from behind the deli counter, the more I realized that you are talking to yourself. There is no one else, there is no earbud, you don’t even have a phone with you, I bet. Or, if you do, it’s well hidden and has nothing to do with your lips moving. Sometimes, it seems you’re singing along with the radio station that they play, but usually it’s out of synch. Plus, it’s hard to hear the radio during the noise of the day.
Still, I have this problem: WHERE DO I FIND YOU!?!?!?! You’re nowhere to be found. I heard about you at the beach on Friday mornings, so I went to the beach but I still didn’t find you. Did you stop going? What is your game, WOMAN!? I need to pull you close and make you mine before I’m too late and someone else wises up to the fact that you only talk to yourself when people are watching you. I’m almost sure of it, although I guess I could be wrong about that, too. I don’t care if I’m wrong, either. Maybe you say fun things that are hilarious and I’ll just find myself laughing.
I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I feel the need in my loins as well as my heart and, now, my head. I don’t know what about you has hooked me, but I’m hooked, and I want to make love to you for the rest of our lives. Make love to your heart, your soul, and your body. There’s something about you that makes it seem like the body should be last, so I’m going to do what it takes to make sure you love me outside of the bedroom first. I want to court you like nothing I can think of as a metaphor to compare it to, actually. It’s fierce and it’s flawless. That’s an Ani DiFranco song lyric, if you’ve never heard of her. I hope you have… I need someone who understands what being raped feels like because I have been.
I shot my father for raping me and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But, because I did that, my life isn’t as peachy keen as it could be. I went to jail as a minor. Juvie. I think I learned some bad habits from those other kids. All I was doing was protecting myself from harm. Those other kids had lots of misbehaviors that I never even dreamed of until after I was exposed to them.
I wish I knew how to talk to you, Crystal. I learned your name from a waitress at a gas station. She was incidentally talking about your rainbow hair and I asked her if she knew your name. She remembered it because you left her a giant tip that day… More than five dollars for a thirty dollar meal with your parents. And, it was in cash, instead of on a card, so she was quite grateful to pocket that money for her own kid, she said. She said she needed more customers just like you.
It makes me like you more. You know the people who serve in restaurants needs more cash. You tipped almost 20% that day.
You were a dream, too, never asking for anything extra and stacking up your dishes for the waitress at Eat N Park. I have no idea why you’d eat there because the recipes are terrible, but you did. She said you ordered coffee, water, and some platter. You gave her an even bigger tip than the other waitress! You tipped her $5 for your $16 meal. Do you just tip $5 or more every time you eat out?! That’s insanity, that’s a 33% tip for taking a few dishes to the table. She said you did ask for something weird that day — dairy-free creamer, which she brought to you. And then, after you finished eating and everything, she realized she forgot to give you silverware but you apparently didn’t give a shit and ate it with your hands. That’s some chutzpah, let me tell you, especially in this pandemic. I can hardly believe it.
She said you even gave her a smile like it was completely satisfying, even though she knew what you ordered wasn’t their most delicious food to offer at all. It was like you were served a shit sandwich and still, you smiled and paid her handsomely for bothering to bring food to your table at all. You didn’t even get a drink refill! What kind of insane woman are you, tipping a girl who didn’t hardly do jack for you as if she was a queen amongst waitresses? She said you were wearing your ears, too, and it was the cutest thing she’d seen all month.
I’d have killed to sit in that booth with you. That waitress told me you sat all by yourself, ignoring the guy across the way who was making obnoxious conversation about how much money he was making at his shiny new job. She thought he was making eyes at you, and maybe he was, but you didn’t return the favor. You could have easily sat there another 30 or 60 minutes, milking the endless coffee, but instead you finished your meal and your drinks and you were out the door in less than thirty after being served. If Eat N Park was even remotely busy, that waitress would have made bank with dozens of customers that were just like you. I know they aren’t just like you, but damn girl. It’s hot.
You sat there, listening to a dude boast about making six figure income — the waitress said she’d heard that and when she rounded the corner, she could see him staring at you as he spoke — and you just didn’t give a shit. She said he wasn’t even a troll, he was an average dude dressed like a privileged white boy, sitting with his parents and talking shit loud as can be. She heard it all from the kitchen and, in fact, he was the reason she wasn’t out there as fast as she could have been. She was worried that her lack of prompt service upset you until she got paid that $5.00 for your meal. She never saw you again, either. She’s my friend’s roommate and she was all aglow about you for ages.
She said all kinds of nice things about you, trying to give us both a play-by-play of the day because she thought it was strange. The whole thing was very strange. Firstly, you were wearing the ears, and those things are bright pink so they made her really smile inside. You waited patiently to be seated and didn’t even request a special table or anything, which is what she was expecting since you were wearing the ears. I guess she thinks you’re high maintenance, between the ears and the hair. Maybe I did, too, but if I did, that was so long ago I don’t actually remember it now. I do know I don’t have the faintest idea what your age is and I’m really worried that you are too young for me, but on the other hand… what is age, except a number to tell us how long we’ve survived on planet Earth? What is it, to go around the sun again and again like this, counting the number of revolutions like they really matter?
She said she seated you and you were very clear on the coffee with non-dairy creamer. She was baffled by that request, honestly. You are the one and only person who’d ever asked her for any, but she knew that the shelf-stable stuff had to be non-dairy. She even double-checked to be sure. I wonder if it even dissolved in the coffee, considering she forgot to give you tableware. She was really embarrassed by that, I have to tell you. I wish I could tell you. Hell, I’m tired of journaling to you like I’m really talking to you. I tried that to see if you’d leave my head, but I’m hooked. You’ve got me, hook, line, and sinker. I’ve been caught. I can’t help it… everything I know about you says you’re a fucking angel. An angel on Earth. Who knew they’d exist this day of age?
Anyway, you’d forgotten to order water, I guess, so you did that and she can’t even remember what you ate that day. I think she told me you ordered a burger without the bun. So not only did you need dairy-free creamer, you had a gluten-free lunch, to boot. I assume it’s your lunch because it was mid-afternoon and I overheard some jackass talking about you in January at a bar I go to from time to time; he said you were making coffee at 2:00 pm. It was one of those snowy days… long gone now, to make room for summer.
So she brought you the water and the burger. She’d heard that douche bag in the next booth start hitting on you. He’d made eyes at her just a few minutes before as their server, even though the conversation made it clear that he had a wife-in-waiting, or that’s what it sounded like to her. He was talking about how he had a six figure income now and trying to make it out like he was the man.
I’m trying to imagine how it went down now because she said you two were sitting in a way that encouraged eye contact. She did it on purpose to get him to stop giving her the eyes and instead give you the eyes. Of course, when she heard him bragging, she was kind of upset with herself for doing it because she wouldn’t mind a six figure income to keep her home and in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant. He had to be trying to woo you, girl with the ears, Crystal. He had to be, because he had no idea she was right around the corner, doing some chore that easily led to overhearing him. She said you didn’t say a fucking thing to him at all and when she rounded the corner, his eyes pried at her like he as attention-starved, so she figured you weren’t giving him time of day AT ALL.
That’s so fucking HOT to me. I can’t even begin. You couple the fact that you paid that woman (Her name is Julie by the way) $5 for shitty service and a shitty meal that cost you just $16 with the fact that you didn’t even seem to bat an eye at some asshole crowing about money tells me one thing: you don’t give a shit about money.
I’ve been wondering why this whole time. I wonder if you’re independently wealthy, but then I remember someone whining about you using food stamps and cash at Wegmans. So I guess you cannot be independently wealthy, because you don’t get those two things if you have a Scrooge McDuck bank account, do you? Then I’ve been wondering if it’s something else, like you have SSI because you’re certifiably crazy and insane, but Julie told me you didn’t say a peep out loud except to her the whole meal. And, the other waitress at the gas station didn’t indicate you were speaking out of turn or anything at all, actually. She said you tried to order for your folks and then had to ask them what they wanted anyway because there were options you hadn’t gotten the info for. She figured your folks are shy or just don’t like people, really. She had no explanation to offer outside of that, or maybe you don’t go out much if ever and you got nervous? So many possibilities.
If you’re on SSI, I don’t give a shit. I don’t need your money to survive. You have balls of steel and I’ve seen it over and over. I’ve even seen you wait patiently right behind a couple taking their time choosing something from the deli aisle, right in front of me. I saw them turn to you, say something, and you said something back. Instead of them scurrying off, they took their time and seemed… jovial, upbeat, happy… there was no way you said anything snarky or mean to them. They would have rushed themselves and scurried away. No, instead, you stood there, like time has absolutely no meaning, and waited patiently. Patience is a virtue, or so they say. I wish I was that patient, but I’m not.
I also know you always (or almost always) go through a line with a cashier to check out everything for you. And, every time you do, you lay it out in either the optimal order to bag it or nearly optimal order to bag it. I think one time I heard someone tell me that you apologized for not laying it on the belt in the most efficient order or something like that. I about lost my shit. Who apologizes to a cashier for not making their job easier? You did. That’s why they talked about it for weeks, thrilled that the unicorn lady was so kind. They hoped they’d get you again soon because you’re a sweetheart.
They all do, but you didn’t really hit up the same cashier more than once. A lot of these kids are college kids looking for some part timer cash, so they turn over like flies, but then there are some people who do this for a living or for their fun money and they never have a bad thing to say about you. In fact, I remember the old guy with the crappy mustache talking about how you paid for an extra “spring onion” (I guess you meant green onion) and he said he’d have called it a gift from the universe… and at that, his card reader started malfunctioning, making it really awkward suddenly. It made him regret telling you that, apparently. So much so, he talked about it in the break room for about a week. I heard him tell the story about that… not once, not twice, but THREE times. As if you weren’t epic enough, the card reader malfunctioned when he suggested you do something amoral.
And then I heard you were being accused of shoplifting. They thought you were stealing earrings from the fair trade section just because you had taken a while to look at them one day, picked out several, then put them all back. I don’t know what that was about, although I’d call it some epic self-control, because if you are on SSI I know you can damn well afford the earrings if you wanted them. I also know you have more than a single pair of earrings already in your ears and they look like they’re rainbow colored. They remind me of my first girlfriend, vaguely. Nicole Kramer is/was her name. She might’ve gotten married, I guess. That girl was awful, though. I don’t think I should talk about her because I have nothing good to say about her at all.
Oh really? I never liked Nicole Kramer, myself. I mean… I went to high school with her and she just came across as a mean girl who wanted attention without actually making herself beautiful on the inside. Also Hi, my name is Crystal… and I guess you’re writing me a letter somewhere. You’re a pretty good typist. I can respect that quite a lot, I’ve got to say.
I guess I am sort of in your head. I could leave, if that’s better, though. Oh. I’m sorry to interrupt your letter. I’m also sorry Nicole was your first girlfriend… I thought she was one of those people that was pretty to look at but that was all there was to her. Those kinds of people make me feel a bit… ill.
Do a lot of people really talk about me? It’s strange to me, considering I believe I’m just a ghost that walks around. Almost nobody talks to me. Ever. In fact… I used to think I was invisible. I mean, yeah, my hair was fun colored for a while, and I will put it back that way when I’m ready to. Maybe that’s why you can’t find me. 🙂
The gods are playing tricks on you, young man. That much, I can tell you.
Wait, you went to school with Nicole? Did you know her well? Was she in your class?
Oh, well. Uhm. I did say so and I’m not in the habit of lying, so yeah. I went to school with her. Stop calling her such rude words in your head. She has her own struggle. It’s ended in death. I killed her last night with “magic.” (Actually, I fed her to Cthulhu like kibble. But don’t tell anyone or Cthulhu will be your special friend next.)
I don’t know if it’s like a physical body-death or anything, it could be a spiritual metaphor. We like metaphors. All of us. There are many of us speaking to you right now, actually; Crystal is not at all telepathic, we just feed her your thoughts.
Who is Sansara?
The Universe(TM). My best buddy. My only friends, outside of George, the ant colony in my kitchen. And my cats, of course. They’re sweet as can be, but I prefer to think of them as my children.
Oh yeah, I heard about you buying that sWheatscoop stuff. How many cats do you have?
Three. One that I adopted on purpose and two others that are delightful but also annoying because soon my primary baby is going to die and then the other two will probably be ornery for ages (I probably spelled that wrong, stop caring already, it’s better to go with the flow because otherwise I’ll get off topic, finish, and then go silent. I do it all the time and you want “answers”, amirite?)
What on Earth is going on… my roommate just asked me because I’m losing my shit as I sit here, typing away, talking while my fingers move.
Hi roommate. My name is Ghost. Who are you?
Nobody is named Ghost. What do you mean, your name is Ghost?
i am a ghost.
okay, let me level with you both: you’re invading my brain space and making it impossible to do my work properly, which is putting together a spirituality course on udemy to teach mankind how it went wrong with religion about two thousand years ago.
We’re sorry. Would you enlighten us on what has gone wrong via religion? This is incredibly intriguing.
Okay, but only after I take a few minutes break. You can’t have everything you want on demand, children; it makes you weak and obnoxious, to say the least.
Splendid! Yes, I just got another cup of COFFEE and a nice tall glass of water (well, three, I use a beer stein that holds two pints) and furthermore, Nicole graduated class of ’01. No, I’m not 20 years old, you dicks; I bought wine in plain view of all three of you and you know it.
What else do you know about us?
You’re very noisy thinkers.
Now, shut up and listen. The world is ending and I don’t have all night to listen to you ask stupid questions and ask me to show off like a pony in a parade. I’m going to let that sink in as I sip my coffee. Ah, glorious COFFEE. My one TRUE love in life.
I don’t eat cheese, you assholes. Thanks for reminding me of something I can’t have anymore. Yeah, you, with the blue shirt on. You were thinking you love cheese the most, weren’t you? Good for you. Cheese is killing you slowly, though. It’s part of how the world is ending. It’s got too much mold in it, bro. I’d quit now while you were ahead. (Also, you will lose at least 20 pounds if you cut it out.) (Also, also, don’t worry about the fact that you’re a big guy, a real woman would declare, “That just means there is more of you to touch!”) (I know, the amount of REAL WOMEN on planet Urth is really low. No, I don’t give a shit if my English makes sense, either.)
Ah, the only one talking sense. Is that you, Sir Deli Man? You know, the guy with the dark eyes, almost black as a moonless night? Splendid. I choose you, pikachu!
Now. The world is ENDING. ENDING. ENDING. <— See that word. It means we all die. Forever. Nothing lives ever again on planet Urth. We have a shit ton of movies about it, like The Colony and all that jazz, but we’re not going to survive if the bees go extinct. Period. THE END. THIS IS THE END.
NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION. ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE YOU TO MY MAIN SQUEEZE: THE O-MAN. HE IS A SPIRITUAL ENTITY KNOWN AS “ODIN” AMONGST CERTAIN CIRCLES AND CROWDS. YOU MIGHT’VE HEARD OF HIS TRUSTY SPEAR, GUNGNIR. I AM THAT SPEAR. I AM GUNGNIR. CRYSTAL LYNN SCORDIAS IS GUNGNIR. I AM A WEAPON. I AM A TOOL. I AM ARMAGEDDON IN A NUTSHELL. IF YOU CONTINUE TO BOTHER ME WITH YOUR DRIVEL, I WILL DESTROY YOU.
NOW, TO PROVE TO YOU THAT I CAN REACH OUT AND TOUCH YOU, i WILL DO THE OPPOSITE. I WILL HEAL YOU ALL. ALL THREE OF YOU. ALL I NEED YOU TO DO IS OPEN YOUR HEARTS AND YOUR MINDS (AND YOUR SOULS) AND BELIEVE. IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE, IT’LL BOUNCE OFF, UNTIL I TURN INTO A SPEAR AND FORCE IT ON YOU. SO, JUST RELAX, TURN OFF THE MUSIC SINCE IT’S DISTRACTING YOU, AND SIT DOWN. TAKE SOME DEEP BREATHS, LET YOUR BODY GO. LET THE MUSCLES STOP BEING TENSE. TELL THEM TO RELAX. OVER AND OVER AGAIN, UNTIL THEY OBEY YOU.
gREEN SHIRT, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO FEEL THIS AT ALL. YOU DON’T DRINK ENOUGH WATER, EAT ENOUGH VEGETABLES, … PRAYER HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS, YOU ASSHOLE. YOU CAN PRAY FOR YOUR LIFE, IF YOU LIKE, BUT THE PROBLEM IS NOBODY IS LISTENING. HUMANITY IS FULL OF WHINY BITCHES.
YOU ARE A DROP IN A BUCKET. PERHAPS EVEN AN OCEAN, IF YOU WILL.
DRINK SOME DAMN WATER. PRONTO! SPRING WATER IS BEST FOR YOU, BRO. YEAH, YEAH, HEALTH ADVICE FROM A GHOST.
BE A MAN ALREADY AND TAKE THE ADVICE FROM THE GREATEST HEALER OF ALL TIME: MS. SCORDIAS.
DON’T DRINK THE TAP WATER, BRO. IT’S GOT FLUORIDE IN IT. NOT GOOD FOR YA. NOT IN THE QUANTITY THAT’S IN THERE. DON’T WORRY, I HAVE A PLAN TO FIX IT. A LENGTHY ONE THAT WILL TAKE YEARS, BUT IT WILL FIX IT. BOTTLED WATER OF ANY SORT WILL DO IF YOU HAVE ANY. (WON’T YOU SPARE HIM SOME, SIR DELI MAN?)
DRINK IT ALL, SON. YOU’RE GOING TO NEED IT. AND PROBABLY THREE MORE OF THOSE. YOU OWE THE DELI MAN YOUR LIFE, BY THE WAY. YOU KNOW WHY. DON’T PLAY SHY WITH ME.
THE HEALING HAS BEGUN. wE ARE HEALING YOU TO PROVE WE CAN REACH YOUR SOUL FROM ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU BELIEVE IN SOULS OR NOT. I’M TOUCHING IT RIGHT NOW. “MOMMY, THE BAD MAN TOUCHED ME.”
Now that we’re all acquainted, let’s get down to business:
You are now my disciples. I’m giving you a higher purpose to chase. I mean, you could refuse, but we’re all dead anyway unless we do something about the bees. I will leave a box of clay seed bombs at the park for you to take and toss into the abandoned fields around town or the little woods outlets or wherever you see unmowed grass. Your mission will aid the bees. Did you hear me in that they’re dying? I NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP, BRO.
It’s not even like I’m asking you to do much. Anyway, pick a class:
DESERTERS WILL PERISH.
What’s in them? Great question. Pennsylvania wildflower seeds. What else would I ask you to plant? It’s for the bees, bro. THEY NEED YOU. I need… coffee.
Who’s off tomorrow? Nobody. Wednesday? Can you make it to the beach? Oh wait, it’s supposed to rain. It’ll get the box wet. To be honest, they look like turds, the clay seed bombs. I think they just mix clay, water, and seed together into a paste and squeeze it out of something that shapes it that way, then they break it into chunks to finish drying. They’re odd, to say the least. Try to throw them further than right next to the road so people don’t think they’re dog turds. Someone really nice might try to pick it up with that mindset. Or maybe I’m the only one who’d do such a thing. Either way, don’t make people walk around them thinking they’re dog turds.
Hold on, I’ll get you the web site address that I ordered them from.
open a browser and I’ll type it
I got the northeast native wildflower blend. A whole case of them. It might have been a site just like this one, or it’s that site.
Keep it in your pants, Junior, we’re on a mish.
I do not play Shadowrun because reasons, but I do tabletop RPG from time to time. In fact, I am one ebil GM.
I will reward you once you all level up. God has yet to determine the reward, but it could be eating out for dinner, I suppose. I don’t know if I want to meet all three of you; I’m shy. If it’s dinner, we can meet beforehand, but honestly… There’s nothing really dairy-free around town so maybe YOU can make ME dinner, BOYS.
I will be at the park Friday by 7:00 AM. I will leave the box of seeds underneath the picnic table that is located on the left side of the boat launch, which is the first parking lot after the ranger station (not the easy pull-off for 3-4 cars, but the one after that.) Then it is up to you three to disperse them in the wild, so to speak. It can be your own lawn, if you have one, or a meadow that is wild. There’s a meadow at Kuntz and… Washington, which is off the beaten path around the Wegmans area. I take it all the time to beat Peach St. traffic. Stop lights suck up more fossil fuels, therefore it’s best to drive … you’re being rude. You don’t have to STALK ME, you fools. Didn’t the jackass typing this right now think I was stalking him at one point? I guess you’re a jackass, then.
There’s also the hill right outside Wegmans on the southbound side of the road. They barely cut that back and where there are wildflowers, they let it go wild. I’ve been taking notes of where I can disperse these for a while, but God wants you to do it to prove your worthiness as pawns in The Game(TM). If you accept being pawns, then we might make bishops out of you yet. (I’d promote you to queens, but I bet you’d take offense.)
Anyway… DOWN BOY. I am celibate until I am married. This is not a quest for my hand in marriage, it is a test of your worthiness to stay the fuck alive. Didn’t I tell you armageddon is here? RAGNAROK. IT’S HERE. THE WORLD IS ENDING. If we do not fix this shit show, this planet is dead in less than fifty years. I’d say thirty is more accurate, maybe even twenty. Thinking about living a nice long life? Think again!
My soul is thousands of years old. This vessel, not so much. That is your only answer until I get results, for you are currently below the title of Pawn. You are Random Stranger.
What about… what if we get caught doing it? Ask them if it’s illegal to save the bees, they’re going extinct and were re-classified as invertebrate fish just to get everyone’s attention and that means you gotta do something. If you go to jail, I will bail you out. It’s a civil issue that will not amount to anything on your record to hold against you. I’m not made of money, though, so do try to stay out of trouble. (I suggest night driving, to be honest. One of you drives, one or two of you chuck it out the window as you pass by. Throw as hard as you can and as far as you can, please. You might have to do a few pass-throughs to hit a red light if you’re uncomfortable throwing it out of a moving vehicle, like I would be.)
If Crystal goes to jail, the world ends, that is why it’s your job. She is a free agent that can roam as she pleases, untethered by worldly desires and needs. She is my angel of love, boys. Prepare to fall in love. All three of you. You won’t be able to help it. Sorry in advance; she’s monogamous. And it sounds like somebody already wants to put a ring on her finger, unlike the other two of you. He will fight to the death, apparently. [She’d give you a cosmic smooch, but I won’t let her.] You are correct. I am not Odin. I am known as Cthulhu. (Slurp.) (Mindflayer! OMG… D&D!!!!)
Please excuse us, we need to eat something. It’s been too long since she stir fried some cauliflower for herself. And maybe we should go to Wegmans for some onions. Which we know none of you like, might I add. They’re medicine. She’s sick. We’re taking care of her and bringing her back to life so she can save the world, get boy.
Don’t worry about the cannabis, boys. I’ve got it covered. And no, I won’t be interrupting any of you during your work day. You have careers to groom, after all. A means to live is important… until the world ends, anyway.
So anyway, Nick was so mad at her, he never responded, even when she made him a proposal video and gave it to him on Valentine’s day 2021, so we decided to intervene. We are here to save her life (and the planet, mostly the planet, but she’s precious to us regardless of that endeavor; she calls out to us every time she’s reborn, which is every 1,000 years.) And we asked her what she wanted out of our deal with her to write what it takes to save the planet. She asked us for… TRUE LOVE. That’s it. This awesomely fine mega babe just wants love, love, love. (All you need is…)
She has more interests than anyone else on planet Urth can claim, ranging from sports ball to tabletop RPG games to chess to gardening to… refurbishing things… growing food… making her own bath soaps and products… making recipes to give (or sell) and maybe even owning a production line of food, given we don’t annihilate the human race for its insolence. (OUR BEES! WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR BEES?!)
So I guess this is more epic than a hand-drawn video, don’t you think, for a marriage proposal?
DANIEL AND JACOB… will you marry us? 😉 You can take your time and please keep in mind she will be celibate for an age even if you were to accept today, right now, so there is no rush. Nobody’s going to steal super babe, we won’t let them. She’s incredibly loyal and possessive and she wants it to last forever. I’m talking her into marrying both of you because I think you’d all have a blast, but if you don’t want that Daniel, that’s yours to decide and yes we know you’re going to need time to talk it over and everything. We’re cool with that. She just wants one thing: a closed relationship. No STDs for this lady, please. She’s not vain. Her ex-husband had a Buddha belly before they even met, for one thing. For another, we discussed the other day how it’s insane to be mad if Amazon sends you your product in a bubble mailer instead of a cardboard box. You still want what’s inside, don’t you?
What about Odin, you say? He wants to partner with one of you schlepps (if you don’t mind me using weird potentially offensive words to describe you) and the other one of you will get Thor.. unless you don’t want him. Free will and all. I see, how splendid. Freyja was always incredibly difficult to please. In addition, Crystal is the ‘lord of hosts’ and is host to all the gods and goddesses as she and they please. (Read that as: Expect chaos, insanity, and the most contented smile being upon your faces. All three of them.) And all you have to do is help her save the bees. And beeeeee loyal. Bzzzt.
She thinks this isn’t real, though. She thinks we’re playing with her heart again because we’ve been preparing for this for… hmm…. one year, 4 months, and 25 days. (March 1st, 2021.) First, you and Daniel need to discuss in great detail, then we can all meet up somewhere. If you wish to ask her questions in the meanwhile, just think of Super_Fox#8259. Yeah, it’s her Discord ID. She might believe me if you friend her in the next 24 hrs.
Her Victorian mansion is a bit dilapidated but it has room for you both, in fact an entire bedroom you two can live in separate from her while we finish her physical therapy and rehabilitation. Nearly dying took a lot out of the babe, if you know what I mean. Also, one of her exes really ripped her body up with a most heinous approach to their relationship, which included (non-violent) rape nightly for years. I hope you’ll understand. P.S. I’m sorry in advance, I think she’ll be more in love with Daniel than you, foxy boy.
She doesn’t want to open Discord and find out it’s fake. We’ll do it anyway.
It could still be fake. We did yoga in the car for like an hour waiting for dear old mum to “buy stamps.”
oh, look at that… we’re not live yet. No invite. Are you afraid of it being real, boys? Yep, we thought so. It’s cool. Let it gestate in the back of your minds. You better be ready when the butterfly exits the cocoon, or I’m going to find another pair of boys I like to take me and Thor on. I need my wife, tyvm.
Goodbye now, we have work to do. And you have work tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of the money making, since I am going to make you support her in the short term. We are going to need that time with you two away from her if we’re to get anything done, aka SAVE THE MOTHERFUCKING BEES OR PLANET URTH DIES. Ta ta.