I hate when I know exactly what I want but the Google gods won’t give it to me. like I only want to see listings for 4″ tall Disney Fairies Friends figurines, not the 12″ Disney Store dolls. I know what I want. I know what I put into your silly little search engine.
you know maybe i should rewatch the queen's gambit and continue my dreamers au for that. and also because i just love the show and wanna watch it again
Can someone please explain to me why Rio’s last name isn’t Manolo?
Because it REALLY seems like his last name is Manolo.
Like, sure, it could have been some alias he gave Boomer. But that whole professional relationship isn’t very clear and Boomer appears to know him a lot better here than he did in season 1. He knows he’s a “solid guy,” meaning he expects Rio’s word to be historically good, presumably from previous interactions. They evidently made some sort of deal and Rio wanted him out rather than having him taken care of on the inside, which would have been much quicker and easier. This all implies that Boomer gained knowledge of Rio’s real name and him using the name Manolo may be reliable information.
And would Rio really hide his last name? I would imagine he’s known to law enforcement and to his fellow “coworkers” by his actual last name. Beth and Ruby don’t seem too surprised by the use of the name Manolo. They’re more skeptical about the “solid guy” assertion.
If you compare this to the way Beth reacted when she found out his first name is Christopher, there’s a marked difference to her demeanor.
Visible surprise here. She was expecting the name Rio (not Brian,) but the neighbor said Christopher. And then confirmed the apartment number so Beth knew it was him.
I also want to point out that if you google the name Manolo…
…the first result is this random Wikipedia page that says a sculptor named Manolo’s real name was Manuel Martinez. Coincidence? Probably. 😂 This probably just discredited my entire argument and made me seem insane. 🤪😜
Anyway, thank you for coming to my wild conspiracy theory weekend. What do you all think? Manolo – real last name, or alias?
AU where William Zarick still dies, but Joey and Denise live!
“Denise, wait,” Pat said before he could stop himself. He weighed the risk, and let it go.
“No, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have said anything,” the widow moved to roll up the window. In the passenger seat, her cat miaowed.
“Is it about how your son really died?” Pat blurted
She stared at him from the driver’s seat, the road forgotten. “What?”
“I was there. Technically. Kinda. Look, telling me whatever it was isn’t going to put me in any more danger than I’ve already got myself into, I think.”
“You know, then.” I wasn’t a question. “William always said it was in the root of this town. That’s why we moved here.”
“Why don’t you come inside?” Pat asked. “You can tell me…whatever it is you know. I…don’t think I’ve got the best track record keeping people safe, but I’ll try.”
The car engine idled, and then Denise turned the key, shutting it off. Her steps were uneasy. Pat could feel the uncertainty of grief in her steps. he reached out an arm, an offer of support. She didn't take it. She sat heavily on the couch in the Pitstop, not caring about the grease stained rag draped over the back.
"I don't know much. William didn't want to tell me. He said it was better if I didn't worry. But I'm a politician's wife. Was. Widow. I-- it's what I've always done. Listened and worried. So I know, some. Dr. King, he's in a coma, but he was in my house a few days ago. William made him upset. And then Jordan..."
"Jordan?" Pat asked. He'd heard the name... but where?
"Jordan Mahkent. He runs the American Dream. He's part of this. I don't know how, but he is. Maybe he's in charge. The day Joey--that morning, he was waiting for William. I don't know if it was a--a threat, or--but he knows. and I can't stay in this town with him here."
"Alright," Pat said, quiet. If Barb's boss was involved, that was it. No matter what Courtney said, the time for secrets was done. They had to figure out a game plan that got everyone out of this alive.
Everyone else, anyways.
"Mrs...." he stopped. " Denise. Have you ever heard of the Injustice Society of America?"
she blinked. "I've only lived in this small town for 7 years," she said. "I haven't had my head in the sand my whole life. but wh--" she stopped. " you don't think..."
"Dr. King is Brainwave. " Pat said, wondering if he was the one signing her death warrant and not the other way around. " and your husband... I'd have to say...."
"No. I.. know who he was. All his stage magic. None of it was stage tricks. I knew he'd... done things. I just thought it was over. That it was smaller."
"If it helps, he, uh, only tried to kill me once," Pat said.
"I don't think it does."
"Right," Pat said, awkwardly. "look, we're... we're going to figure this out."
"we?" she asked. " the two of us? against...."
"well.my wife, once I tell her. And..." he pinched his lips in a sigh. "And the new JSA."
"They're... reforming?"
"You could say that."
Denise nodded. "alright. I'll stay and help. but I want your word on something."
"Depends on what it is," Pat said, having been tricked three times too many by Mike in that way.
"When we find out who killed my family. I want to kill them." Any mousishness had melted away in that sentence.
"If that's what it comes to," Pat said, hoping that it wouldn't, and thinking of the stain that have never come out of Sylvester's suit, not till the day Courtney had cut it to size.
-
Halfway across town, Beth Chapel looked around the basement room and beamed. "There we go. Litterbox, digbox, nest, toys, fresh water, pellets, and broccoli stems for a treat!" her eyes widened, and she dove for the floor, where the white rabbit she'd rescued from the bridge wreck was mauling one of the care books she'd checked out of the library.
"Oh, no," she said, checking "The Complete Guide to Raising Healthy Rabbits" over. Toothmarks dented some of the title, and she winced at the uneven bumps under her fingers. There had to be a chapter on how to keep the destruction to a minimum. Not that she worried her parents would notice or care that she'd adopted a bunny, but that she couldn't disappoint the town librarian like this.
Carefully, she sat, waiting to see if the bunny might approach her. She knew better than to just pick it--him--up.
He twitched his nose at her, then hopped to the food bowl, picked it up in his teeth, and sent it clattering. Before she could scramble for the broom, she froze.
The bunny wasn't kicking pellets everywhere for the sake out it, like she'd thought. One by one, he was carrying them into place.
J. a lopsided O. E.
Beth held her breath as the rabbit made a wonky looking lowercase y and sat back on fluffy haunches.
"Oh my god." Beth whispered. "Joey? You're Joey's rabbit? He had real magic?"
He kicked his dish at her, the metal clattering across the floor with a hollow ringing sound.