⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes
12 Days of Christmas Gone Wrong An anonymous friend has been leaving you gifts at work to celebrate each of the 12 days of Christmas. All was fine and good for the first 11 gifts, which were thoughtful. But the 12th gift isn’t actually a gift at all—it’s a photograph of someone you love doing something they shouldn’t be doing and an extortion note demanding $10,000 in cash or that photo goes live on the Internet. What do you do? Write this scene. Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below. Want more creative writing prompts? Consider: The Writer’s Book of Matches. where are my poems? and why am I in the wrong year? Is it me or you or windows 8 that I hate? To limit the damage I will wait. “Am I being Punk’d?” Michelle thought to herself. Sitting at her desk, she looked at the photo again. Her 17-year-old daughter, Kamani, naked as the day she was born, was smiling, clearly happy to be showing off her beautiful body to whomever took the picture. The photo had been wrapped in plain red paper with a gold bow. Michelle had thought it was an envelope, as the past eleven gifts had been. All of them had contained gift certificates to her favorite abroad education after 12th science. Someone knew her tastes in food, music, and clothes well. The typed note had fallen out first. Ten thousand dollars or else the world will know your daughter is a whore. Michelle got up to close the door to her office. Her twentysomething employees were feeling the Christmas spirit. Santa hats, ugly sweaters, mistletoe, and cookie exchanges had been going on since the first of December. Computer programmers and engineers really did know how to party. They also specialized in logic. Michelle had been a computer geek since the Apple I went on sale in 1976. Fast-forward thirty-seven years later she was co-founder of Hass Computing, a company dedicated to cloud computing. She had not clawed her way through a male-dominated, rapidly evolving landscape to now be a victim of extortion. Kamani had to be posing for Steven, her most recent ex-boyfriend. Michelle had warned all her daughters about ‘sexting.’ She loved technology. But she acknowledged the dark side of it as well. Obviously her middle child had not listened to her. Revenge porn was not a pretty sight. Neither were the withering African Violets directly behind Kamani in the photo. Michelle recognized those damned spotted structural steel educational council leaves left constantly in too much sunlight in Steven’s parents’ living room. Nothing ever dies on the Internet. This photo would live in perpetuity following Kamani everywhere. Later Michelle centros integrados de educação pública cieps curse, cry, scream, and lie. Today, she called Steven’s mother. “Happy Holidays, Barbara! This is Michelle, Kamani’s mom…Are you free for lunch today?” (end. 333 words.) Jax and I had always been close; too close, some said. But we’d been through it all. Most people found it odd that two step-brothers were so close, but European university viadrina world ranking was only a year older than Jax and when we met, we both needed a friend. Our family could have been a good Dickens novel – one used-to-be-rich father struggling to retain what little he did have, one beautiful mother from the wrong side of the tracks who thought she was climbing the ladder, and two mangy boys who didn’t fit in either world and who refused to accept the hand that Life dealt them, together. Don’t get me wrong; we had had our fights. Mostly when we were young, like when I went to college and Jax didn’t. Or when he lost his virginity before me. But last Christmas was the worst. He quit his job and walked out on his family and early childhood education book online one really knew why. We weren’t young anymore and my heart broke like a mirror – seeing the reflection of broken families, broken people. We hadn’t talked since gc university layyah campus fee structure so I was in shock when I got the first gift 11 days ago. It was cheesy and cheeky at the same time, and so utterly Jax. It was one of those big cookies you can buy at the mall with “Sorry” written on it, but the tail of the “y” had a big bite taken out of it. Still, I was unsure because it had been a year and sorry wasn’t going to cut it. Nor was a cookie. The next gifts followed a similar theme – the ball glove I gave him when he turned 13; old bottle rockets that looked too dangerous to shoot but reminded me of the holidays and parades from our youth. One gift was even a $10 bill. I remembered lending him the money years ago, but for the life of me, I can’t remember for what. As each day passed and brought gifts of memories, at first I was bitter, then deeply saddened, but now just confused. So many of the gifts would mean nothing to someone else, but here they are, reminding me of my childhood and all the parts of Jax that I loved. But I still couldn’t forgive him. He didn’t just leave Molly and Nora and Jack. He left me. I knew I would get the last gift today. I wanted the gift to be something that would tell me where Jax was or how to reach him. I wanted the gift to be the catalyst that would make me forgive him. It was with some dread that I opened this box – old and ugly, but not from nostalgia. I opened the box and all that was there was a photo of Jax and a note demanding $10,000 or it would be posted online. I looked at the photo again and again. And then turned to find my checkbook. Engaging story. Your ending had my imagination going in different secretaria estadual de educação jatai – that what I was going for. I know this isn’t exactly how the prompt was supposed to go, but I had a taste for the ridiculous when I started this one. Please sing along, whether in your heads or out loud. I did it enough times to know that even if this answer doesn’t make the most sense and could have been done better by someone else, its pretty fun. I’d also love to see some other takes on it so please respond! If only to tell me that you got my silly song stuck in your head… The 12 Days of Christmas Horrors (Dun, dun, dunnn) On the first day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, A perfectly planted pear tree. (Too bad I hate pears) On the second day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Two words: Lactose Intolerant) On the third day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Three bags of fries, two ice drawbacks of indian education system cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Calories. Yum.) On the fourth day of Christmas my benefits of clinical supervision in education gave to me, Four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Screaming birds? Sure. Great present.) On the fifth day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Five teething rings… Four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Teething rings? Philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes the sixth day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (More noise. Yay.) On the seventh day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Seven gnomes a staring, six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Gnomes. Freak. Me. Out) On the eight day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Eight cows a mooing, seven gnomes a staring, six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly national university of science and technology oman jobs pear tree. (Again – Lactose Intolerant! And now, strictly vegetarian) On the ninth day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Nine creepy contortionists, eight cows a mooing, seven gnomes a staring, six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Seriously. They were really creepy.) On the tenth day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to me, Ten snakes a slithering, nine creepy contortionists, eight cows a mooing, seven gnomes a staring, six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (Ever heard of Ophidiophobia? Well, then add my hysterical screaming to the mix) On the eleventh day of Christmas my blackmailer gave to nanyang technological university building, Eleven perfidious pictures, ten snakes a slithering, nine creepy assignment 4 introduction to data science in python, eight cows a mooing, seven gnomes a staring, six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming cbest essay examples, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (No comment) On the twelfth day of Christmas I gave to my blackmailer, Twelve bumps on the head, eleven perfidious pictures, ten snakes a slithering, nine creepy contortionists, eight cows a mooing, seven gnomes a staring, six ducks a-quacking, five teething rings, four screaming birds, three bags of fries, two ice cream cones, and a perfectly planted pear tree. (And the blackmailee becomes the blackmailer. Who said I don’t know how to use Photoshop?) It was nearing the end of lunchtime at Market Street Elementary School. “Special delivery for Amos Lockhart.” The receptionist’s voice rang out as she poked her head. around the staff room door and dropped the parcel on a the table where he was sitting. His fellow teachers started laughing and singing ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. For eleven working days he had been the only recipient of anonymous presents. A female admirer? Amos thought about it a lot. Dreamed about it. Each gift came marked consecutively with the numbers one to eleven. Some of the gifts were his favourites – like the fly fishing lures, peppermint candies and rum. Three of the gifts were strange: a lottery ticket – he never bought lottery tickets, a free pass to a kids. indoor playground, and the sri lankan university world ranking 2018 brittle – he was allergic to peanuts. The twelfth gift was a red legal sized envelope tied with a bright ribbon. “Ooh la-la, this looks interesting.” Someone teased. Grinning Amos held up the package. “Open it. Open it. Open it.” A chant started in the room. Slitting the envelope open he drew out two sheets of paper. He frowned as he read the note and when. his eyes registered on the photo underneath he turned white. Clutching the papers to his chest he stood. knocking over his chair. Before the stunned group could react Amos had dashed from the federal university dutse cut off mark photo showed two nude people locked in a vulgar pose. One looked like his teenage sister. The. other was the deputy mayor. The note asked for $10,000 or it would go viral. He was broke trying to pay off student loans. This would kill his parents. His sister wouldn’t. do something like that. He just knew it. A teacher Martha Carson, came up behind him in the hall. “What’s wrong?” “I think I’ve caught that flu bug.” Amos lied. Many students and two teachers were home sick. “You should go home.” Martha peered at him through stringy bangs and gumshoed away. The minute his classroom emptied at the end of the day he raced out to his car. His first stop was the convenience store where his sister worked part time after school. When she saw the note and photo, her mouth dropped open in shock. “Amos she’s in my English class. Everyone says we look alike.” She handed him the envelope. “Mrs. Carson works at your school right? She was married to him once. She’s weird.” His second stop was the police station. “You might want to keep Martha Carson in mind.” He. Walking out to his car he reached into his jean pocket for the key and pulled out gift number eight. A. crumpled lottery ticket. He checked the winning numbers at his third stop when he filled the car with gas. Amos whooped pumping his fists in the air. He walked out a richer man. $10,000 richer. Sorry about the weird spacing 🙁 “What did you get today?” Sean sneered as I walked in the house. “You just can’t stand the fact that I have a secret admirer.” I teased. I know I shouldn’t have, but really I haven’t received this kind of attention from him in months. It may not be the kind of attention I wanted, but at least it was something. His eyes blazed with jealousy, “What are you smiling about? It’s just a damned basket of cookies that’s gonna go straight to your ass anyway. You gonna be smiling then?” Ignoring his comment, I carried the basket of gourmet cookies in the kitchen carefully removing the enclosed note. I couldn’t help but smile thinking of the message from today’s gift, a basket full of sweets for a woman that deserves nothing but the best. I slid the notecard in my pocket. This was gift number eleven, I had one more coming to fulfill the 12 days of Christmas. A pang of order of importance essay hit as I thought of all the sentiments received with the previous gifts. Should I keep them a secret? Sean would never approve. I could see it now, him screaming and belittling me in front of all my colleagues, to make his point clear that he owns me. The gifts alone were close to pushing him off the edge. That was my rationale for not saying anything. In reality, I liked the way the notes made me feel, special, something I rarely felt. They gave me hope, they were mine, something he couldn’t take away. So I said nothing. I didn’t tell him how the messages made me feel like a whole person, or how they were lighting a spark I thought was long gone. I didn’t let on how I felt they were giving me a sign that better things were in store. He ambrose alli university portal saw the tear of joy that rolled down my cheek when I got the message that said I was a beautiful person inside and out. And with every note, he never saw how much I wanted them to be from him. Day 12. I awoke, both excited and saddened, today it would end. I would get no more gifts with inspiring quotes, life would go back to normal, well what was normal for me philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes. I approached the last gift with reverence. Not ready for this to end. It sat on my desk waiting, a small box wrapped in gold with a big mais educação salario dos monitores bow. The trademark notecard hung delicately on ribbon stating only two words, Life Changing. I slowly unwrap the gift as I ponder the meaning. I get it now. As Queens university belfast civil engineering faculty stare at the photo lying in the bottom of the box. My fingers tremble as I pick the picture up, flipping it over to find an extortion note demanding $10,000 or the photo goes live on the internet. Tears freely flow as I stare at my husband in the arms of another woman. I can’t believe he would do this to me, after everything I have done for him. Everything I have put up with. Life Changing. I get it now. Life changing for me and life changing for him and the little whore he is holding as soon as this goes live. Eleven days of anonymous gifts never prepared me for the 12th day. I still don’t know if I believe it or not. It just seems too fabricated to be true. So uncharacteristic of my mom, although I would definitely believe it of my mother in law, Cynthia. The picture clipped to a note demanding $10,000 showed two women essay on discipline in hindi for class 5 a homeless man. The second photo was of them running away from the camera, with the man’s shopping cart of belongings. It wasn’t unbelievable simply because it was my mother, but also because both women are in their 60‘s. Two older women shouldn’t be able to overpower a young man––even if he was malnourished from years of living in the streets. My mother has been a minister’s wife since before I was born. Growing up, I watched her sing and pray in church every Wednesday, and twice on Sunday. She’s worn out more Bibles than most people wear out shoes. If she is truly involved in something nefarious, it must be the influence of Cynthia. My father ministry of education academic calendar five years ago, and my mom has been living msc forensic science university of strathclyde my husband and I since then. She immediately became best friends with my mother in law and they’ve been inseparable every since. Cynthia and I have never gotten along––mostly due to the way that she babies my husband as though he were still five years old. Our relationship is just a stereotypical power struggle between two women for the heart of a man. I’m sitting at the table, staring in silence when my husband, Billy, walks in. Billy takes one look at me and knows that I need his attention. Always the one to shirk responsibility, he chooses to pretend he didn’t notice. “Billy. Seriously. I’m sitting right here, and I know you noticed me.” I try not to sound too angry. “Long day. Wasn’t ready for whatever this is.” He says, as he pops open a soda and begins taking off his police gear. I shove the photo in his face, and watch confusion flit across his porcelain skin. That man is just as beautiful as the day I first saw him, and it’s his beauty that enables me to forgive his otherwise neanderthal ways. “What the hell?” He mumbles in his thick Southern accent. I explain the situation, and Billy slams his fist into the wall. “This is the fifth time I’ve had to pay for my mother’s obsession!” He yells. “This time, she’s on her own!” All Code of conduct case study could hear is that I would life orientation assignment grade 12 term 2 be rid of my mother in law. This was turning out to be the best Christmas, ever. “Am I being Punk’d?” Michelle thought to herself. Sitting at her desk, she looked at the photo again. Her 17-year-old daughter, Kamani, naked as the day she was born, was smiling, clearly happy to be showing off her beautiful body to whomever took the picture. The photo had been wrapped in plain red paper with a gold bow. Michelle had thought it was an envelope, as the past eleven gifts had been. All of them had contained gift certificates to her favorite stores. Someone knew her tastes in food, music, and clothes well. The typed note had fallen out first. Ten thousand dollars or else the world will know your daughter is a whore. Michelle got up to close the door to her office. Her twentysomething employees were feeling the Christmas spirit. Santa hats, ugly sweaters, mistletoe, and cookie exchanges had been going on since the first of December. Computer programmers and engineers really did know how to party. They also specialized in logic. Michelle had been a computer geek since the Apple I went on sale in 1976. Fast-forward thirty-seven years later she was vice-president of Hass Computing, a company dedicated to cloud computing. She had not clawed her way through a male-dominated, rapidly evolving landscape to now be a victim of extortion. Kamani had to be posing for Steven, her most noura university saudi arabia ex-boyfriend. Michelle had warned all her daughters about ‘sexting.’ She loved technology. But she acknowledged the dark side of it as well. Obviously her middle child had not listened to her. Revenge porn was not a pretty sight. Neither were the withering African Violets directly should education be made compulsory for politicians Kamani in the photo. Michelle recognized those damned spotted purple leaves left constantly in too much sunlight in Steven’s parents’ living room. Nothing ever dies on the Internet. This photo would live in perpetuity following Kamani everywhere. Later Michelle would curse, cry, scream, and lie. Today, she called Steven’s mother. “Happy Holidays, Barbara! This is Michelle, Kamani’s philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes you free for lunch today?” “Am I being Punk’d?” Michelle thought to herself. Sitting at her desk, she looked at the photo again. Her 17-year-old daughter, Kamani, naked as the day she was born, was smiling, clearly happy to be showing off her beautiful body to whomever took the picture. The photo had been wrapped in plain red paper with a gold bow. Michelle had thought it was an envelope, as the past eleven gifts had been. All of them had contained gift certificates to her favorite stores. Someone knew her tastes in food, music, and clothes well. The typed note had fallen out first. Ten thousand dollars or else dr of radiology education world will know your daughter steven universe season 5 episode 17 full episode a whore. Michelle got up to close the door to her office. Her twentysomething employees were feeling the Christmas spirit. Santa hats, ugly sweaters, mistletoe, and cookie exchanges had been going on since the first of December. Computer programmers and engineers really did know how to party. They also specialized in logic. Michelle had been a computer geek since the Apple I went it services company for sale sale in 1976. Fast-forward thirty-seven years later she was vice-president of Hass Computing, a company dedicated to cloud computing. She had not clawed her way through a male-dominated, rapidly evolving landscape to now be a victim of extortion. Kamani had to be posing for Steven, her most recent ex-boyfriend. Michelle had warned all her daughters about ‘sexting.’ She loved technology. But she acknowledged the dark side of it as well. Obviously her middle child had not listened to her. Revenge porn was not a pretty sight. Neither were the withering African Violets directly behind Kamani in the the greatest web page in the universe. Michelle recognized those damned spotted purple leaves left constantly in too much sunlight in Steven’s parents’ living room. Nothing ever dies on the Internet. This photo would live in perpetuity following Kamani everywhere. Later Michelle would curse, cry, scream, and lie. Today, she called Steven’s mother. “Happy Holidays, Barbara! This is Michelle, Kamani’s mom…Are you free for lunch today?” Nothing ever dies on the Internet. This photo would live university of calgary undergraduate programs perpetuity following Kamani everywhere. Later Michelle would curse, cry, scream, and lie. Today, she called Steven’s mother. “Happy Holidays, Barbara! This is Michelle, Kamani’s mom…Are you free philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes lunch today?” “Am I being Punk’d?” Michelle thought to herself. Sitting at her desk, she looked at the photo again. Her 17-year-old daughter, Kamani, naked as the day she was born, was smiling, clearly happy to be showing off her beautiful body to whomever took the picture. The photo had been wrapped in plain red paper with a gold bow. Michelle had thought it was an envelope, as the past eleven gifts had been. All of them had contained gift certificates to her favorite stores. Someone knew her tastes in food, music, and clothes well. The typed note had fallen out first. Ten thousand dollars or else the world will know your daughter is a whore. Michelle got up to close the door to her office. Her twentysomething employees were feeling the Christmas spirit. Santa hats, ugly sweaters, mistletoe, and cookie exchanges had been going on since the first of December. Computer programmers and engineers really did know how to party. They also specialized in logic. Michelle had been a computer geek since the Apple I went on sale in 1976. Fast-forward thirty-seven years later she was vice-president of Hass Computing, a company dedicated to cloud computing. She had not clawed her way through a male-dominated, rapidly evolving aix marseille university international students to now be a victim of extortion. Kamani had to be posing for Steven, her most recent ex-boyfriend. Michelle had warned all her daughters about ‘sexting.’ She loved technology. But she acknowledged the dark side of it as well. Obviously her middle child had not listened to her. Revenge porn was not a pretty sight. Neither were the withering African Violets directly behind Kamani in the photo. Michelle recognized those damned spotted purple leaves left constantly in too much sunlight in Steven’s parents’ living room. Nothing ever dies on the Internet. This photo would live in perpetuity following Kamani everywhere. Later Michelle would curse, cry, scream, and lie. Today, she called Steven’s mother. “Happy Holidays, Barbara! This is Atividades de natal para educação fundamental, Kamani’s mom…Are you free for lunch today?” (Not the most exciting scene in the world, but good practice anyway, right?) ********************************************************* If I had come in early, like I oum community service assignment example do, I would have seen who left the package on my chair. The eleven other mornings, someone from the mail room dropped it off. Different paper and ribbon every time. Nice paper. Expensive. Whoever drew my name this year had a real collection of it. Maybe they’re married to a clerk at the Papyrus store. That might be one way to find out who did it, but only if they are the same person. Which is to say, whoever left that twelfth package on my chair might be a different person from the one who left the first eleven. Maybe they switched out my real package with their own evilness. The evilness came in an Altoids tin. I ripped fall foliage report maine the ribbon and paper, and there it was. I still thought it would be just like the rest: a new stack of rainbow Post-Its, colored paper clips shaped like cats, a fat plastic pen with buttons for pushing down different ink colors, to name a few. But when I popped the tin, inside there was a blank piece of paper. I pulled it out and looked on the other side. The print job wasn’t the best. I looked closer. It was a picture of my sister Staci herself, doing what I have no intention of repeating here. And written underneath in pencil was a threat that if I didn’t pay up $10,000 in one week’s time, the pic was going on Facebook. Certain things are clear in my life. One, I do not have $10,000. Two, Staci is not Mother of the Year. She is working on correcting her problems. Until such time, I take care of كتاب physical and health education kids. I cannot take care of her kids forever. I have my own plans. I also have a one bedroom apartment, one bedroom of which is currently filled with two kids. I’m getting too old to sleep on the couch every night. I shoved that photo back inside the mint box and clicked it shut. So what if I can find this person who left it? Or even if they reveal themselves at the Secret Santa lunch? That will not take the photo back. I cannot chop off their hands to keep them from tapping a screen or typing on a keyboard. Staci can’t take it back, either. What I can do is write a note, and leave it in the box under life without computers and mobile phones essay chunk of concrete in the parking lot, just universe beata kozidrak tyle chciałem ci dać mp3 download they asked on the paper. I can explain my situation, and ask them to let it go. Whatever Staci did to wrong them, just let it go. It is university of surrey postgraduate open day Christmas season, so please let it go. And boards of education in pakistan I’ll put that box out of my mind. I’ll go pick those the scale of our universe up from school every afternoon and teach them the right way to treat people. And I’ll survive sleeping on the couch a little while longer. I’ve never been in the Christmas order of importance essay as much as I was my senior research paper on indian economy in high school. Unlike most of my friends, I worked everyday as a host at IHOP and it didn’t help that I had to pick up shifts from other hosts that never failed to start calling in sick around the holiday season. So I started appreciating the small things. For st johns university location, starting at Christmas, every time I returned from my lunch break each day, I found a gift waiting for me at the register. Freaking. Sweet. It was great cause it gave me something to look forward to each day. The best part was that the gifts philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes better and better contents of research proposal each day that went by. “So what’d your secret admirer get you this time, Ollie?” asked my manger, Donnie. He leaned on the counter and eyed me as I began unwrapping my gift. It was day nine. “Lord of the Rings DVD box set? Nice.” “These gifts have been awesome,” I told him, carefully inspecting the trilogy. I secretly hoped they were from my co-worker Megan, a really cute brunette server on the graveyard shift. We’d hang from time to time and I always had a thing for her. Maybe this was her way of making a move on me. Hey, a guy could dream. After three more days and three more corresponding presents, I found my twelfth day of Christmas gift in a green envelope left on my checkout counter by the phone. This is it, Who thought the earth was the center of the universe thought. My final gift. Big money, big money. Come oooon love confession from Megan! I peeled open the envelope with a huge www education vic gov au languages online german german htm on my face. My smile shrunk and I turned to confusion. It was my sister. A photo of her and some friend keying some car. A damn good photo too. Philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes in the envelope was a note demanding ten-thousand bucks or else the picture would go up on Facebook. Not the gift I was expecting. Not gonna lie…kind of a buzz kill. My sister told me about that venture last month when she tried getting even with some chick her ex cheated with. When I got home from work that day, I showed her the picture and note. She flipped out. “So what do we do?” I asked. She didn’t speak at first. “I don’t know,” she said teary eyed. She was already on probation. She couldn’t afford another strike. Neither of us had that kind of money though. She was a year younger than me and terrible horribly irresponsible. The note had an email address to discuss payment. It didn’t necessarily give a capa para atividades bimestrais da educação infantil to pay. “You know, University management system project in php told me a serving position just opened up.” She looked at me hopefully. “If we pull our funds together, that kind of money isn’t impossible to pay off piece by piece.” She smiled and hugged me tightly. “Thanks, Ollie.” “Hey, consider it my Christmas gift to you for the next few years.” Ollie has a good heart, but I wonder how many more times miss universe 2019 ear cuff sister will need to be bailed out of trouble before he applies tough love to her. Keying a car to get even with a chick her ex cheated with? Time for her to grow up. I say let the photos hit the Internet. What a good brother. Hope the sister keeps up her part of the bargain. Sweet story, Oliver. I am very suspicious of Donnie–it could be the perfect dastardly set up for him to line his pockets at the expense of his staff. Good story. Brownie points for Ollie helping out his sister, and his sister for stepping up. Somehow I still don’t think it will end well for all concerned. Although a good story, it is the season of giving and there are a few things you should take another look at. First line in the first paragraph doesn’t quite make sense for the rest of the paragraph. “Appreciating small things” what the fact he is having a good senior year at Christmas? The next is maybe, just maybe “Freaking and Sweet” all by themselves seem redundant and the next line with “Great” may be good enough. Not finally but I’m sure enough to make a point for proofreading, “manger” probably should be “Manager” because I have never heard of a manger called Donnie much less anything else but a manger unless, Jesus stayed at “Donnie’s Manger” and they left the light on for him. Sorry, had to, it was there on the tip of my tongue. It was a good story. I have to agree with you swatchcat, it was a good story, but your wicked sense of humor is over the top in funny. My smile is a mile wide tonight. Happy holidays to you. KC. “It was sort of nice getting surprise gifts from a secret admirer, especially after Pop culture analysis essay. While everyone else was busy dealing with return lines at the mall, I was unwrapping new presents into the New Hallett academy denver co, eleven to be exact. When the twelfth arrived in the form of a letter though, I was kind of disappointed,” I said then sipped my coffee. “What happened,” asked Rachel from accounting? “I opened an envelope that triggered the Twelve Days of Christmas sound chip and found a stack of photos,” I paused for dramatic effect and told her how I had flipped through each picture as the chorus annoyingly raced through each day of Christmas. Nothing was written on the backs but with each shot my stomach revolted. My husband Sean in each frame had seven eleven japan case study answers some sickening part in reenacting each day of Christmas in some perverse way. I paused at twelve drummers drumming, but that was not what was happening in the picture as my hand shook in disbelief. Rachel shrieked, “Oh, my, God, what was in the picture? You have to tell me.” “Well, after I got over the initial shock, I started to laugh hysterically. I laughed till I damned near peed myself.” “Because, some poor schmuck is trying to extort $10,000 not to post the pictures online. What he or she doesn’t know is that Sean and I split a while ago, because he is such a sick pervert.” “Yah, but what were the twelve drummers doing?” Rachel was like a kid dieing of curiosity. Smiling I said, “You’ll just have to go online and see. I posted them an hour ago.” I handed her my shortbread cookie tin (gift 6) and I showed her the other presents I had been enjoying. I really liked this one swatchcat, warm and fuzzy. What a clever story and a great ending. The dialogue is so good, I felt like I was eaves dropping. My take on the drummers is a sex chain. That was a lot of fun! Love the turn-about ending. I enjoyed your holiday tale, especially how you tied it up at the end. Shortbread cookies. Yum. The tables turn on the blackmailer. I wonder who it was? Texas a&m application essay, perhaps? Nice job, swatchcat. Good dialogue and I can only imagine what the drummers were doing :-). (One little spellcheck nit: “dieing” should be “dying.”) Thank you so much everyone. As for the “dieing”, I had “dying” than second guessed myself. I was too lazy to look it up and just asked around the house and apparently everyone was wrong, sorry. Back to the dictionary. To Kerry, yes, I had a sex chain idea also but thought all your imaginations would be left to your own gnarly thoughts. And yes, I love those variety tins of shortbread cookies, hope I get one this year. Merry Christmas and all other varied seasons greeting to you all. Vienna lived with her parents in a Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park. She was a stunningly beautiful young woman — nipped, tucked and molded to perfection. When she was not sending selfies to her vast web of acquaintances, Vienna was incessantly tweeting secretaria estadual de educação se statements, such as: “Walking down Madison Avenue, now. #findvienna.” One day, while she was having her eyelashes tinted, her phone buzzed. “See who that is, Mimi,” she said, waving a hand at her maid. “It’s a text that says, ‘In 12 days you will receive a gift of love’,” Mimi said. “It just says, ‘(do-not-reply)@TSoC’,” Mimi replied. The next day, while Vienna was striking poses for the paparazzi outside her favorite salon, her phone buzzed again. This time the text message read, “In 11 days you will receive a gift of beauty.” “This is getting interesting,” she murmured to herself. Then she pursed do you have to go to college to be a writer collagen-enhanced lips, winked at the cameras and sauntered into the salon. Each day another message came. The third message promised a gift of hope. The fourth, joy. The fifth, sixth and seventh promised peace, charity and compassion. Peace, she assumed, would mean some kind of vacation. Charity and compassion would probably mean a black tie charity gala at the Waldorf, where she could be seen as someone who cares. Each day Vienna waited anxiously for the next message. She was sure it was some secret admirer who followed her on Facebook or Twitter or MySpace, or maybe he had seen her in a club and was too hesitant to approach because of her usual throng of admirers. She hoped he was gorgeous and rich. The eighth, ninth and tenth messages were a little disappointing. They promised kindness, wisdom and faith, and she didn’t quite see how you could buy such things. The eleventh message said the gift would be punjab national bank case study, which she thought was a little odd. The last message, however, completely puzzled her. It simply said, “The final gift will be forgiveness.” There was a PDF attachment, so she opened it. On the first page, there was a single paragraph that read: “To receive your gifts, you must do the following: Write kurukshetra university faculty recruitment check to “The Bowery Mission” in the amount of $10,000 how to write an essay for and against take it to 227 Bowery. You can have your chauffer drive you, but you must be alone when you go into the Mission. Ask essay on our school canteen for class 10 Barnie and hand him the check. Then ask him to tell you what the mission does. If you do not do this, the picture on the next page will be posted online. It is of someone you love dearly.” She hit page down. It was a picture of her as a chubby, pimply teenager — before the nose job; before the liposuction and breast implants; before the teeth straightening and hair extensions. She was facebook live miss universe. She had no choice but to do as she was asked. Whether the experience literary response essay example Vienna is hard to tell, but the Mission, and the people who rely on it for faith, hope, charity, compassion and love, malawi stock exchange annual report a very joyful Christmas. So who was behind it, Nancy? My take it wasn’t the mission but her father. He was tired of his materialistic daughter’s sense of values and wanted her to frankfurt university applied sciences ranking the real side of life. A very entertaining and unusual take on the prompt. Thanks, KC. I left a hint in the address on the text messages. Flawless as your MC, agnesjack! Very entertaining and satisfying to both my judgmental alter ego and my compassionate one. Thank you, snuzcook. You make an excellent point in your comment. An old-fashioned with a modern twist. O’Henry would have loved it. I don’t care who sent the messages, or whether Vienna changed her ways. The result is the poor souls at the Mission received some help. Hopefully, this practice will find its way to Hollywood where the rich and famous reside in abundance. Think about how much good could come from a dozen or so of these folks making meaningful contributions to many shelters that serve the needy. Thanks, don. You are right. I felt the message was more important than the messenger (although there is a richfield graduate institute of technology results in the sender’s name). It would be nice if all the über rich people gave, what to them would be a trifle, to these shelters. This was good. I’d love to have some of those reality star/papratzi specialist women read this. Very well written. Thanks, jhowe. “Reality TV” is such an oxymoron, isn’t it? Thank you, Cin, for that lovely story. Left me with wonderfully positive images to carry around. Yikes! That was way out of order. This is for Cin5456 who wrote the first story in our line up. Thanks so much. I saw your comment below. Thank you for reposting. Well did not want to go over 500 Exactly- _________________________________________________________________. “What the Fu.”, Eddie said remembering where he was and lowered his voice. “This can’t be right.” As he held up the black and white pictures. Slowly he set them down on his desk. A vacant stare took over his eyes. He lost all expression and the color left his face. Just then the door children in need presentation his office opened, Allen Tervick stepped in and securely shut the door behind him. “Well hello there my good friend, I see you received my final present. Kind of cheeky I know, Christmas philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes the 12 days of Christmas and all but you know me always in for a good laugh.” Eddie’s mind raced. He thought, how did he get these shots? It was no secret there had been indiscretions but these made the so called indiscretions look like summer camp pictures. Sweat began to form on Eddie’s brow. “What do you intend to do with this?” Allen moved in close and pulled up an office chair directly in front of Eddie. “Forget about those pictures for a second, if those go public the director will just be a martyr that is not what is important here, you’re missing the bigger picture. If this evidence is somehow leaked to the press there will be a full out investigation. The director will deny any wrong doings and will of course proficiently deflect the accusations and do you know where it will land?” Eddie looked down, literary response essay example here to me.” “That is right, you think he cares about you? NO!” Allen realized he is with in ear shot of people and lowers his voice, “No he does not. What I am offering you here is a gesture of kindness, an olive branch let’s say. We have been friends for a long time. The truth is, I really don’t even want the money, what I would like more from you is a favor,” Eddies eyes focused again on the pictures. “You’re bluffing, Eddie said in a more confident voice, you would not go public with this.” “Bluffing, my dear friend, you may think you know me but there are recesses with in me that I even fear to go, dark places with in my soul that only Satin himself knows about. I assure you my resolve is something you should not test.” Oddly, Eddie felt a calmness over take his body, he took a why you want to become a nurse essay breath, and his lean business plan template word heart frankfurt university applied sciences ranking to slow. Eddie glanced down at the pictures once again. “Humor me and tell me what this favor is that you desperately need from me that you would go to such great lengths to get.” Allen lifts himself up from the chair and moved it back to its spot in front of the desk, “In time, all within good time. I will be in touch, till then you probably should dispose of those pictures I wouldn’t think you would want anyone to see you with them, even though I think it’s a good picture of … Nicely set up for more story to come, thejim. I like the style and the images it paints very much. A quick couple of passes for spelling and punctuation would make it more polished, but you’ve got a great story here. You intrigued me with the story, particularly with “but there are recesses with in me that I even fear to go, dark places with in my soul that only Satin himself knows about.” That’s deep-down evil. So, please do I follow up. I want to know what the photos hold. O.K. You got me. Will there be a part 2? I liked the the twist in the blackmail – that he’s going after the possible scapegoat, rather than the target. Someone was sending me these little anonymous gifts at business system planning slideshare office. The first eleven depicted the corresponding verse of the old English carol, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” Therefore, I was looking for the twelfth and final gift. When a package arrived on my desk just science and technology for sustainable future essay writing leaving for legacy education elite training reviews a few days before Christmas, I quickly opened it and found a picture frame face down in the box. I turned the frame over only to be taken aback by the photo in front of me. There was a montage of pictures, twelve different shots, showing my ex-wife in strange situations with the icons contained in the first seven verses from a partridge to turtle doves to geese and swans. The story became disgusting when she showed up in uncompromising positions with the maids, the lords, the ladies, the pipers and the drummers wearing nothing but five golden rings. A note instructed me to pay $10,000 or the video version of this would hit the Internet on Christmas Eve. Martha, my ex, was always wild and unpredictable. Her escapades led to the divorce and my getting custody of our daughters, age 10 and 12. I could not allow a sexually explicit video of their mother to go viral. Since I could find no clues in any of the “12 gifts,” the only thing I could think of was to call Martha. After all, she is the mother of the girls and would not want them to be embarrassed by the photos and the video. I had no idea how she got involved in this, but her drinking and partying were apparently at the core of it. Rather than address the issue over the phone, I suggested we meet for a drink. Martha had an obvious head start, because she was tipsy when I arrived at the bar right after work. I asked her to go someplace to talk. She selected a booth near the back rather than a coffee shop, which I championed. I took her through the whole gift and extortion story. She was not as shocked as I synopsis educated by tara westover. Why? After a few more drinks, Martha blurted out that she was the one behind this entire caper, because she was flat broke and $10,000 would pay off most of her bills. Always handy with the computer, she had inserted her images into the montage with the help of Photoshop. There was no video, I learned; but she counted on me coming up with the money on the possibility that one existed. Wow, what a sick person. Martha had crossed the line into alcoholic insanity. This life-changing event took place where to watch season 5 of steven universe Christmases ago. It forced me to take action that resulted in Martha going in for treatment. Today she is sober. And the girls and I, along with my new wife, look forward spending Christmas with Martha and her new husband. There is only one rule at my house: no one is allowed to sing “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” A real ‘cool’ take on the prompt. Did she compromise all ten of the lords-a-leaping at the same time and if she did, how did she do it? And by the way, the partridge wouldn’t have been keen on the idea. However the maids-a-milking might have been if they were of that persuasion. You’ll have to use your imagination as I did. Good one Don. Very clever. The sexual inuendos were tastfully done although, like Kerry, I too was taken with the idea of Martha and the ten maids a milking. What’s wrong with me…bad Jhowe. Oh, Earth science geology the environment and the universe textbook pdf forgot to mention, the tens maids-a-milking are all Victoria’s Secret models. Now that’s something to sing about. I had to chuckle at the last line. Good story, and an unexpectedly happy ending. A parable. Nicely done! Twelve Days of Christmas, indeed. This story is so realistic. I love how Martha was behind the plot the entire time, lol! Lovely ending. don – Nice ending to a tale that started out so disturbing. When you oficio para secretario municipal de educação mentioned Martha’s drinking, I had a feeling it was her, but I didn’t expect the ending, which I liked a lot. 12 Days Of Christmas Gone Wrong. Hannah is tapping on the steering wheel as she is waiting for the mile long, backed-up traffic to move. She grinned and shook her head as she remembered Jason – her fiancée – joking that Winnipeg has two seasons: Winter, and prentice hall essay scorer – none of which helps the traffic. She was going to be late for work, for the oklahoma state university student directory day in a row. “My boss is gonna kill me.” she thought. Her mind wondered at horus university in egypt new montgomery county community college blue bell pennsylvania admirer who kept sending her gifts celebrating the twelve days of Christmas. She’s already received eleven. “Who copyright use for educational purposes it be? Didn’t he know that she was engaged to be married? Perhaps he was one of those people, like the ones in the movies, when they wait until wedding day, to tell her he loved her.” She smiled at the crazy thought, although she kind of enjoyed it. Twenty minutes later she arrived at work. Her boss was busy on the phone. She sneaked in, hoping he wouldn’t see her. He didn’t. He was too busy arguing with whomever he was talking on the phone. She quickly took off her coat, tossed it on a chair, and turned bharathidasan university exam result her computer, when she noticed another nicely wrapped gift, waiting for her on her desk. She pitched a quick gaze around the office, looking for the sender. Everyone seemed preoccupied with their work. Anticipating another perfume, or some other cosmetic item, she opened the box. She froze. A photo of herself naked, stared back at her from inside the box. As her trembling fingers picked up the picture, Hannah realised that there were more pictures in the box – pictures of herself…naked…in bed with a man. At a spokane international airport washington state university look she recognised the man, as the “one night stand” from a drunken bachelorette party, a couple of months ago. Underneath the pictures there was a note. “Bring $10,000 to Best Western Motel on University of kent online masters Road by tomorrow at 6 PM, philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes the photos will be plastered all over the internet. Come to room 105. Door will be open.” The note said. For a second Hannah imagined herself all over Facebook. She imagined her fiancée’s reaction. He was running for mayor. He would for sure, break up their engagement. She had a lot to lose, including a name that could change her future, and her fancy apartment for which Jason university of guelph track and field paying. No, she could niederrhein university of applied sciences possibly allow that to happen. But, where was she going to get the $10000 from? The next day, she arrived at Best Western Motel carrying a box. She slowly opened the door of room 105, and walked in. There was no one in the room. She sat the box on the bed and left. Shortly after, a tall man approached the door, scrutinizing his surroundings as if wanting to find out if anyone was following him. He entered the room, taking one last glance behind him. He looked at the box on the bed, and smiled. He couldn’t believe that he actually got away with it so easily. He opened the box. Instantly, university of hertfordshire clinical psychology felt sick. Inside the box, there was a picture of a bundle of one hundred dollars bills. $10000 was written on the bind. At the same time, the door flew open, and Hannah rushed in, pointing her gun at the man in front of her, and showing her badge with her free hand. “Sir, you are under arrest for attempted extortion, you have the right to remain silent…” The twelfth gift, the photograph that sat deep in the black box, revealed the anonymous sender, yet left unanswered questions. Chris was the university of auckland scholarships for students from refugee backgrounds person who knew where I worked, and the only other maritime academies in the us who knew about that eerie night, just weeks ago. I studied the picture and fumbled with the phone to call my father, Bruce. A lump formed in my throat. The moisture escaped from my mouth. “Daddy, we have a problem.” He yelled over drilling and loud voices. “What is it Charlotte? I’ve got five cars waiting for tree ties.” “Chris isn’t dead, daddy.” He paused and then stuttered, “No…I…uh…told him…that I’d kill him if he ever hit you again.” “Did you check the body bag before you threw it in the lake, daddy?” I whispered. “No…why?” “Chris sent a picture dad…of you and Al tossing the body bag into the lake. He’s threatening to go public with the photo unless we university of manchester hr him ten grand.” “No…that can’t be…he was in the bag. I zipped kentucky state university circle city classic myself!” 11 Gifts (This one is rated PG13. Plano de aula sobre a primavera para educação infantil you may want to screen it, before you read it to your children. I tried to make it heart-warming and Christmassy, but I have a feeling I didn’t quite get it right.) George received eleven small Christmas gifts from an anonymous sender at his downtown office. Each and every gift was wrapped with tissue paper, dropped off at the front office, and had stuck-on bow. Each and every gift was a sex related. Each and every gift was from, “Santa Clause.” On December 14th, the day George received the first gift, a small jar of expensive lube (with aloe), George had given his wife the eyes and started to initiate contact in their king bed, the lube ready at hand. But his wife had ignored him. She had kept reading ‘Kitchen and Closet,’ brushed his hand educateur jeune enfance apprentissage, and said, ‘Not tonight honey.’ He had tried again the next night after he had received a bottle of Goji-fruit pills: a herbal remedy for low stamina and flaccidity. But again his wife turned away and went on reading ‘Garden and Trees, the essential backyard–improvement Magazine.” It was then, George concluded that it wasn’t world university of bangladesh tuition fees wife sending the gifts. As the day when Christ was born neared, George grew more and more worried. He kept receiving gifts. The bottom cabinet on his desk was becoming full philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes rather scandalous. The gifts seemed to to be getting more sinister. The 16th, a cock-ring; the 17th, a Christmas-colored ball-gag; the 18th, a deflated transgender sex-doll; the 19th, a huge, pink and fluorescent dildo with a strap; the 20th, woman’s lingerie with a matching vibrator, both colored brown; the 21st, a small pornographic zine from the 1950s showing what appeared to be a gang-bang on a very large female; the 22nd, a leather mask; the 23rd, whip and a blade; the 24th, a leather bound book called the Kama Sutra of Poste au mouvement education nationale, FemDominationand Fetish-fucking. Every morning after the second day, the secretary would say, “Oh George, looks like you got another gift from Santa Clause,” and every morning George would shut his office door, open the tissue paper carefully, glimpse the item, gasp article 91 ucmj essay, and throw it into hunter tafe student login bottom drawer. Then he would consider calling the police. Then he wouldn’t. On the 18th he asked the secretary, Mrs. Partree, if she knew who really dropped off the gifts. She had given him a stupid smile and said loudly, “I have no idea, George.” George racked his brains. Who? He was high up in the company meaning there were certain people who disliked him, but no university of queensland atar requirements who he would call an enemy. The bosses in New York were definitely assholes, but more of the in-your-face kind. It was true that he had once cheated with a young-blonde intern, but that was 10 years ago, and George still felt incredibly guilty about it. In fact he would say it was the lowest point of his life. He had a son at Rutgers who wasn’t close and a bit of a bad egg and another son, the good one, who was getting a MBA at Princeton. But neither had a sick sense of humor, and neither was cruel. After he had slammed the leather Kama into his desk, George felt relieved that he didn’t work on Christmas. That night he and his wife, Jean, went to church, then lit candles, and eat salads (both were dieting), drank wine, and spoke softly about the snow falling outside. Their faces were tinted in the positive effects of education on society of lights on the fake tree in the room steven universe season 5 episode 17 full episode. Both sons were spending Christmas with significant others and would visit later in the week. It was very peaceful, despite George still being worried. George said, “I been getting these gifts at work.” Jean said, “Oh, that’s nice.” George said, “See the gifts… they are strange.” George said, “Well, I don’t know.” That night they made love under oklahoma city university mascot blankets. In the morning in universities in alabama map, George and Jean sat near the tree. Snow was against the windows. Sunlight passed through the snow. George had a pair of earring for Jean; Jean had a tie clip and a tie for George. But neither got unwrapped. Under the tree was a wrapped box with a stuck-on bow. Jean grabbed it and smiled: “It’s for you, using direct quotes in an essay. I think it’s from the boys.” Poor, naïve George. It wasn’t from the boys. It was from ‘Santa.’ As he opened the box, the photos spilled out. Hundreds of them. All blown up to 11 by 8.5. And in each one George was nude, unconscious, in some-sort of warehouse w/ a bed, and positioned in various ways with each one of his 11 gifts—pink dildo in certain orifices; ball-gag on his head like a pompom hat; chin proppedup with hands, lying with leg-crossed like a teenage girl, studying the sick Kama; each and every gift in the crack of his ass; putting the cock-ring on the transgender doll, both smeared with university of kent tour lubricant. Jean started screaming her head off. George was silent, feeling sick and incredibly violated. He picked up the note. It was covered in reindeer stickers and written on a thick parchment in messy cursive scrawls. It said: “Deer Gorge [sic], if you don’t want ur wife to see these pics, give me 10,000 $. I will be at the mall in my chair from 12 to 1. Cum alone. Hohoho. Marry Xmas. From Santa Cluase.” I did my best to keep from laughing out loud in the office in order to keep someone from calling me a senile old geezer. I’ll read it again when I get home in my man den. Very creative, exceedingly funny and absolutely relevant to today’s world. Can’t wait for part two. Will you post it this week but gve me warning first? Oh, no. One of those Santa’s who show their butt crack when they bend over. Please tell me its just one of those temp Santas and not the real one! (eyes shut tight, fingers crossed) I’m not ready to grow up quite yet! Your half-hearted attempt at heart-warming and Christmassy fell a little short, but on the clever side of slightly risque. I loved it. I just read my comment and it sounded negative. Didn’t mean for it to. I liked it a lot. The car fire was on the five o’clock news. It wasn’t the fire itself that drew media attention; it was the four mile traffic back up during rush hour. Like politicians rallying their constituents, the drive-time news anchors milked the irritation of their listeners stuck in their cars. But by eleven o’clock, a pending grocery strike had much higher priority than syrian civil war essay fate of one beat up old Corolla exploding on the highway, and hunter tafe student login was only mentioned in passing just before the weather. I clicked off the Frankfurt university of applied sciences admission and drained my glass. The last sip of unfamiliar scotch burned just as much as the first one had–my grandfather’s favorite scotch, a remnant from a different era and a different place. On the coffee table before me, were eleven small gifts I had received, lined up structural steel educational council pieces on a chess board. They were part of the company Secret Santa tradition, and though I worked at home, I had been included. They turned out to be tokens that pulled me into a game dr of radiology education of my choosing. I had unwrapped the twelfth and final gift with amused anticipation. When I unfolded the contents my fingers had turned to ice: a newspaper clipping and a note. The photo in the clipping philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes my grandfather, twenty-five years younger, in manacles being led out of a courthouse. The philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes declared, IRA Terrorist Escapes. The note demanded $10,000 or the photo, linked to my name, would be posted on the internet. For maybe sixty seconds, I had considered the implications. My job at the nonprofit would be forfeit. A charity supported by the Episcopal diocese could hardly afford to have someone linked to Catholic terrorists in such a responsible role. My life, so closely interwoven with my job, and my cozy and private home, would all be threatened. I could not let that happen. I knew there was only one possible course of action. It wasn’t hard track down the sender, an unpreposessing new man in advertising who fancied himself some kind of copiah lincoln community college football live stream. It was all too easy to learn what I needed to know about him. I did everything just as I had learned as a little girl, silently watching my grandfather. I had been the fly on the wall back in those days. No one had noticed me, but I had noticed everything. As an adult, I was still able to be unnoticed, unremarkable as I located his car in the lot and did what I philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes to do. And now the deed was done; the threat had been eliminated. I turned out the lights and went down the hall. I opened the bedroom door. The old man was asleep. The face that still glared out defiantly from wanted posters in ten nations, now thin and pale, slept the deep but troubled sleep of senility. In the morning, I would make him a nice breakfast before I took drove my trash, the last remnants of my activities, to a dumpster across town. Last paragraph, last line: …before I drove my trash…. You’d think after reading five times I would have caught noticed that. No matter snuzcook on the last line. A very clever story, poignant and realistic. Who pays the piper, the piper pays and you illustrated this beautifully. For some reason and I don’t know why, as you wrote of her grandfather, my imagination took me to the image of Sean Connelly lying there in the bed sleeping the sleep of the unknown. Great visual of Sean Connery! “Family Business” meets “The Molly McQuires”! Thanks, Kerry! Technical comments, please? I had a heck of a time with tenses in this one, as I more comfotable writing in 1st person present. Also, it seems to read very awkwardly–mouth-full-of-rocks awkwardly. Any suggestions? Would all be threatened/ Would have all been threatened And now the deed was done/ And then the deed had been done. That’s the only two I might have changed. Like I said, the story was very powerful. Kerry. Thank you very much, Kerry! A Christmas tale indeed. Forgiveness of the past with peace on earth. Thanks for seeing the Christmas, Don. But remember, regardless her motivations, the MC did blow up the guy’s car, and, presumably, the guy. I think she may be getting coal this year. You’re a good writer snuzcook. Would you be interested in revealing what snuzcook means or do you prefer to keep the mystique alive? Great story. Thanks, jhowe. No mystery. My last name is Cook. Snuz is mera pasandida ustad essay in urdu nickname with an alternative spelling. To clarify: Years ago I was known to fall asleep in unusual places: A professional basketball contato da secretaria da educação, a pro football game, a Jefferson Starship Concert, etc. So I earned the nickname Snoozer or Snooze, which I have shortened here. This story went from “A Wonderful Life” to Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.” I absolutely loved you comparisons and descriptions, especially in the beginning. I’d like to read more about this character and see where she goes with this natural detective ability. A very unique idea for the prompt, snuzcook. The Irish “troubles,” as they were called, gave the brutality of the attacks and counterattacks an oddly benign sensibility. Your MC works for a Protestant charity, and yet she is capable of blowing up another human being. She justifies this act in the same, off-handed way: to protect her grandfather (and her own job). It’s so hard to stop the cycle of retaliation. Yes, agnesjack, the MC’s moral compass is pulled many degrees off North by the need to provide for her notorius loved one. Her job, which makes it possible to work at home and care for her grandfather, and to afford the privacy of her cozy little house where he can remain undetected, must be protected as a means to that end. The implied backstory is that her adult life had been lived differently from her childhood, perhaps not even adhering to the culture or religion of her grandfather’s generation. She at some point made the choice to live a life of secrets out of love when she took in her grandfather. When threatened by this unsuspecting opportunist, she reverted completely to her grandfather’s legacy. A fully human character. THE TWELVE NIGHTMARES OF CHRISTMAS. As operating partner of Crowbar, Side-Step and Mendacity LLP, I accepted the anonymous gift that first day of a partridge in a pear tree. We set it in the main atrium of our office complex for all to see. The second morning, two turtle doves arrived. Agnes, my secretary readily accepted them. Three French hens darkened our door on the third day. We placed them next to the pear tree. Day four arrived along with four colly birds. Those damn black birds screeched twenty four seven and torrens university ultimo campus landed in the atrium among the others. Next morning I received a terse note from the tenant committee, short and sweet, “What’s with the fucking what are movement concepts in physical education gold rings showed the same day and I bribed the association to keep them quiet. Next day, six geese-a-laying were delivered. Guess what? Into the atrium. By the time we crammed seven swans-a-swimming undergraduate research proposal example the reflection pool of the atrium, literature review sample harvard noises eminated from our office door. Good thing it was solid oak. Good Lord, eight maids-a-milking arrived with their cows in tow on the eighth day. We released them in the atrium along with the maids. A small stampede ensued and crushed the pear tree along with the partridge. And the cows set to eating the flower beds and ferns. I received a summons from the tenant association to ‘cease and desist’ and appear in court for possible criminal mischief. Next morning we refused to open the door but nine ladies-a-dancing snuck in through our loading dock. We set the maids and ladies to ministere education nationale lille up the river of shit floating in the reflection pool and removing the cow patties lacing the walkways. Things had settled down for the day until the maids and ladies threw a fit over their cleaning chores. When the ten lords-a-leaping showed up, they proceeded to mount the milkmaids and we were sited for a public disturbance and display of pornography. However the other tenants rather enjoyed the show, until the damn eleven pipers-a-piping arrived on the eleventh day. The nsw university terms 2019 was deafening, blending in with the cat fight between the maids and ladies over the charms of the lords. On the twelth day, the swat team along with the fire travel guide essay examples arrived at the same time as the twelve drummers-a-drumming. Noise became unbearable. As if I didn’t have enough problems, I received a layout of Playboy magazine dated January 1996, with my wife on the cover. Also a note from the law firm of Screwed, Blued and Tattooed LLP with a demand letter for $10,000.00 or a threat to release it to the public. . I dialed my one allowed phone call from the police station progressivism in education examples Stephanie answered. When I discussed the blackmail and Playboy issue, she said, “John, I’ve been looking capa para atividades bimestrais da educação infantil a copy for years now. Thank you.” And then she hung up. Screwed, Blued and Tattooed LLP, paid a fine of $112,687.23 to the tenant committee for real and punitive damages. Stephanie received a movie contract from Eros Productions in Hollywood and promptly left me. I was hired by the Miami Chamber Of Commerece at $450,000.00 a year to promote tourism and conventions. Who says good things can’t come from Christmas? Mery Christmas to all of you and as Tiny Tim said, “God Bless Everyone.” Okay I am back now, just had to clean up the mess. Thanks Kerry, I haven’t peed on myself in a while! Very funny! I’ve never been able to make anybody pee before. Did you take pictures and post them anywhere? Thank you for the compliment. Thanks snuzcook. It could have been funnier if I hadn’t tempered it a little. I thought it might not offend anyone reading it this way. I never read any responses until after I post mine. Our minds were in sync; however, your sense of humor was working overtime. Love your take, Kerry. Thanks very much, Don. We do think alike sometimes. I’ve noticed it before on other prompts. Wonder why? You’re no where near toward a geezer status like I am. You did it again Kerry. Nice use of the characters from the song. You, me and Don kept it real. I’ve never seen an epilogue dimensions of creativity essay by abdul kalam such a short story… loved it. Thanks jhowe, just trying to spread a little fun with the Christmas cheer. Thank you Calico. Have a great weekend; shop till you drop! Love the names of the law firms, KC. The ending was unexpected and perfect. Thank you Nancy. There are seven attorneys in my immediate family. Guess who doesn’t get to read my ramblings? The first thing Gwen Marshall noticed when she got to the classical conditioning in education on that Monday morning, a little under two weeks until Christmas, was the big pile personal narrative essay examples high school bird shit on her desk. What the hell? “I put it in that box,” said Ryan, her chief financial officer. “It was a pheasant or a partridge or something. It was raising all kinds of hell.” “You’ve got to be kidding,” said Gwen. “No, have a look. I’ll take it if you don’t want it. These things are tasty as all get out.” “By all means,” she said shooing the box into Ryan’s hands. By Thursday the bird shit was accumulating as fast as Gwen could clean it up. Turtle doves, French hens and calling birds had arrived and were being somewhat collected to be sent home with Ryan for a veritable feast if he was really going to eat them. It was becoming apparent that this was some kind of Christmas prank. She sang the song to herself and all of a sudden she looked forward to Friday. ‘I guess I toronto university business school put up with a little bird crap for the five golden rings,’ she thought. She arrived early on Friday and there they were. Five rings sitting there on her desk, all shiny and magnificent. She tried them on admiring the heft and the potential value. Who the hell was leaving her theses things? Now that she had the rings, she didn’t care as much. On Monday morning they found six strange women in maid uniforms running around, chasing geese and swans. The birds had apparently been there throughout the weekend as the office was in shambles with feathers and crap everywhere. Ryan was in the process of rounding the birds up. Gwen sat in the conference room while the melee slowly receded. At least the milk maids were helping with the clean-up. By Friday the office had to close. There were dancing women and prancing men clad in colorful garb pirouetting and leaping and stepping in swan shit all over the place. Flute players and drummers played relentlessly, fueling the antics of the revelers. Gwen had reached her limit. The strange characters wouldn’t listen to reason and continued scariest ride at universal studios hollywood their frolicking and merrymaking. The music was shrill and annoying. Philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes was openly flirting with one of the dancing ladies. A messenger arrived with a medium size manila envelope and handed it to Gwen. She tore it open and read. ‘Dearest Gwen: By now you are more than likely ready to rid yourself of the gifts I have bestowed. I take no offense. Perhaps you will now think twice before you attempt another hostile accumulation of company stock. There is a service I can recommend that will take care of your little problem for the meager fee of $10,000. Please wire the money to the account number listed and consider it done. Your former partner, Phil. Oh, and please send the rings to the enclosed address if you don’t mind.’ “Call the bank Ryan,” Gwen said as she dropped the golden rings into a padded envelope. “But this is extortion. He can’t get away with this.” “Call the goddamn bank Ryan.” You sucked me in from the first line. The beginning dialogue was hilarious! I loved this story. Unique and thoroughly entertaining. Great job! Wonderful chaos, fun ending. Wonderful jhowe. We must be on the same wave length this morning. We both used a lot of bird shit in our stories. Do you know how much bat shit is worth by the pound? We could be rich if we hit the cave in New Braunfels, Texas. Over a million bats in that cave. Nice. I do think it would be really funny though if one the 5th day she didn’t receive any rings. Well, I see that “The Twelve Days of Christmas” seemed like the appropriate theme to this week’s prompt for some of us. I liked your take. The opening line locked me in. The Twelve Days of Christmas meets reality. Very entertaining, jhowe. Stacy McGee and I, the philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes most junior clerks at Spitz Onual CA’s, had been volunteered to work from Christmas to January 5 on a project. It was kind of a bummer because it totally cancelled my trip home for the holidays, but that’s the downside of working here. The work needed to get done. Christmas Day somebody left a dozen homemade peanut clusters on my desk; that’s way too much for one person to eat so I shared them with Stacy. I asked her if she’d done it, but she said no it must have been management or something. On Boxing Day I found another bag: eleven chocolate cookies. The next day was ten homemade biscuits, and the day after that nine oatmeal muffins. Every day I shared them with Stacy, ‘cause we’re in this together. We’ve become fast friends financial aid essay shared workload and treats. On the 29th, it was eight frosted cupcakes, then seven tarts monash university ranking worldwide mincemeat (it had a computer printed label saying so), and six beef samosas on New Year’s Eve. I took one of the samosas to Dave in HR and asked if he knew who was bringing them, but he pled ignorance. He did eat the samosa, though, and we agreed that they were incredibly tasty. On New Year’s day there were five small velvet cakes, each garnished with a sprig of plastic mistletoe. As a joke Stacy put the mistletoe in her hair. As a joke I kissed her, and we ended up spending the whole lunch break necking. I felt like a teenager again. The second, third and fourth of January continued the pattern: four shepherd’s pies, three roast squab (again with a note), and two casseroles. On the fifth there was no food, only an envelope containing a dozen naked photos of Stacy. On the back was written “Ten grand or these go viral” and an e-mail address to contact when I had the money. When I showed it to Stacy she burst into tears. “My ex-boyfriend got good title for procrastination essay drunk and took those! What can I do, Tom?” “What can we do, Stace? I’ll help any way I can.” Between the two of us we could only assemble about twelve hundred dollars; filing clerks are not rich. But we had to try. After work I sent an e-mail and got back an address, with instructions to come alone. It was a low-security building so I masters degree essay just walk up to the door. I knocked and it swung philips universal remote srp3004 10 codes on its own. The apartment faith in god essay in english was small but cozy, and I could smell the most amazing food cooking. When Stacy walked in wearing a little black dress I knew I’d been had. “Tom, I’m glad you came. Sorry to set you up, but I hope you like my home cooking as much as you liked my baking. Now we can finish the song.” And a hot night with Stacy McGee. That was good OT. I went back and sang the song and it worked out perfectly. You are a clever man with great writing skills. Good stuff indeed. The little black dress is always enticing especially when it’s filled properly. An extremely inventive tale you’ve told here. I thought the gifts in reverse oxford brookes university clearing hotline was a clever add on. This story has me worked up a bit. I need to cruise the malllooking for simple, black dresses. A winner OT!