greater boston five nights at freddy's au. michael works at freddy fazbear's pizza instead of third-sight

this is our home, this is our family

Liz and Michael find another pod. They keep an eye on it and after a few weeks it starts to move and out hatches a newborn-aged baby. 

title from Family by The Hard Aches, this is all @aliencowboys fault for giving me the idea

Read on AO3

-

Liz and Michael had taken to exploring the desert for more caves and mines in their free time. Mostly, they were looking for pieces of the ship that crashed in 1947, but they also used the time to appreciate the place they call home. They're surprised when they find another pod.

“Should we move it?” Liz asks.

“If it’s gone this long undiscovered, I think it’s better to leave it. We don’t know what will happen if we move it. I don’t want to risk it.”

“Okay,” Liz nods.

“But maybe we could set up a security camera to monitor it remotely. Keep an eye on it even when we can’t come all the way out here.”

“Good idea.”

--

Michael’s leaning over the engine of a car when his phone chimes out an alert. He wipes the grease off his hands with his shirt and checks the notification. His posture shifts when he sees it’s from the surveillance app monitoring the pod. He brings up the feed and it’s immediately obvious what triggered the alert. Where yesterday there was a life form inside the pod, today the pod was empty and there was a small baby on the cave floor.

He types out a quick text to the “Pod Squad” group chat, flips the ‘back in 15’ sign on the junkyard table on the way to his truck and guns down the road.

Liz pulls up alongside him as he arrives at the cave and they run wordlessly inside. As they draw closer to where the pod sits they hear the unmistakable sound of a baby crying and pick up their pace.

Liz reaches the baby first, not having to slow down to duck her head like Michael. She scoops it up and holds it against her chest, rocking it gently to calm its crying.

“Have you got something to wrap it in?” Liz asks.

“Here,” Michael says, shucking off his shirt and passing it to Liz.

Michael moves to the pod, gently prodding it to determine what had changed in the previous day. The pod looks the same as the ones he, Max and Isobel hatched from, complete with the perfectly intact membrane.

“Michael, come here,” Liz’s voice snaps him out of his concentration and he hears that the baby is still crying. He moves over to where Liz is standing and reacts on instinct when she passes the baby to him. He adjusts his hold to better support its head and cradles it against his chest. When he looks back up at Liz he notices the baby has quieted.

“I thought it might respond better to you,” Liz smiles. “A familiar touch.”

“You think it knows the difference?”

Liz just points at the now-settled baby.

“What do we do now?”

“I guess we have to put it in the system like they did with you,” Liz says. Michael tenses and he takes a sharp inhale. Liz must notice because she adds, “We have to go through the proper channels, but we can protect the baby this time. Max can keep an eye on them from inside the system.”

“Liz,” Michael takes a few deep breaths to steady himself and speaks slowly. “I am not putting this baby into the system.”

“Okay,” Liz nods. “Okay, we can’t stay in this cave forever, so why don’t we head back to your cabin? It’s more private than Max’s and there’s less chance of anyone dropping by unannounced. We can talk about what to do long-term from there.”

Michael nods and follows Liz out of the cave back to their cars. They walk slowly, Michael taking particular care with his steps to avoid jostling the baby in his arms. Michael’s face falls when they exit the cave and he looks at his truck.

“I don’t have a car seat.”

“Damn,” Liz agrees. She stares at their cars for a moment. Michael has learnt to let her think in silence when she gets that expression on her face. “Okay. I’ll drive your truck, you hold the baby in your lap. I’ll get Max to bring me back later to get my car.”

“Why don’t I drive and you hold the baby?” Michael suggests, holding the baby out towards Liz. The baby stirs and screws up its face in preparation for another round of crying.

“That’s why,” Liz says, pointing at the baby. Michael brings the baby back to rest against his chest and it settles again.

“Good point.” He tosses Liz his keys and gets in the passenger side.

Liz drives cautiously and Michael keeps a firm grip on the baby as it sleeps against his chest.

When they get to the cabin they’re greeted at the door by Colgate, Michael and Alex’s beagle.

“I’m going to call Kyle, I want to get a work-up done,” Liz says She closes the door behind him and leans down to give the dog a scratch behind the ears. “We don’t know how long it’s been out of the pod, I want to check for dehydration - that’s not to mention the alien stuff. Is it the same species as you, why has it hatched now, does it have powers?”

“Liz,” Michael says pointedly.

“Right, priorities,” she nods. “I’ll call Kyle, can you call Isobel? Tell her to bring formula, diapers, um, blankets, and baby clothes.”

“So just pick up everything a baby needs on her way over? Sure, no problem,” Michael rolls his eyes but still dials his phone.

--

Kyle arrives first. Isobel texted multiple photos from the baby section of Target to let them know that she was taking her task very seriously.

“That’s a baby,” Kyle says, sitting down at the kitchen table opposite Michael, who has the baby tucked into the crook of his arm.

“Great observation,” Michael snorts. “Thank you for your medical opinion.”

“Sorry. I know I should be used to weird alien crap by now, but you two finding an alien infant was not what I expected from my day when I woke up this morning.”

“Thank you for coming, Kyle,” Liz says. “Can you give her a health check? I’ve taken some blood samples, but the other stuff is beyond me.”

“I figured that’s why you called me,” Kyle nods. He rummages around in the bag he brought and pulls out a stethoscope, otoscope and several other tools, then looks up at Michael. “Are you going to be good to hold them while I do this? I know you don’t like doctors, but this shouldn’t take long.”

“I don’t have a lot of choice, if I give her to anyone else she starts crying,” Michael answers.

“She?”

“She was naked when we found her so we wrapped her in my shirt. When we got here I found her a clean blanket and we discovered that she’s a she. I mean, gender is a human construct, but for medical purposes she’s female, yes.”

Kyle nods and begins his examination by listening to her heart and lungs. He makes a few notes on a notepad and moves on to checking her eyes and ears. He checks her height, head circumference and weighs her on Alex’s bathroom scales. She’s alert throughout the process, her wide eyes following Kyle as he works.

When he’s written down his last measurements, Kyle announces to Michael, “You’ve got a healthy baby girl. I’d say somewhere between 4 and 6 weeks old based on her size. What did you find in the blood samples, Liz?”

“I compared them to samples from Michael and they’re definitely the same species. Everything else looks normal,” she answers.

“Do you need anything else from me? I can stick around until Isobel gets here if you want help with feeding or changing,” Kyle offers, packing up his medical bag.

“Thank you, but I think I’ve got it,” Michael answers.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Michael,” Liz says gently. “I’m so far out of my depth with babies.”

Michael is silent for a moment, watching the baby as she gurgles and shifts against his arm. “I actually got a lot of experience with babies as a kid,” he says, not looking up at Liz or Kyle. “Turns out some people think taking on a foster kid means they get a free babysitter.”

Kyle smiles sadly at him and collects his bag. He gives Michael a comforting clap on the shoulder as he leaves, reminding them to call him if they need anything.

--

The baby becomes increasingly unsettled as they wait for Isobel to arrive. Michael paces around the cabin trying to settle the hungry baby until they finally hear Isobel’s car pull up. Liz goes outside to help Isobel with the supplies she’s brought and rummages through the bags to find the formula and a bottle. The few minutes it takes to prepare feels like an eternity to Michael, who’s watching the baby get closer and closer to tears.

Liz tests the bottle against her arm before handing it to Michael. He settles on the couch to start feeding the baby, who drinks hungrily from the bottle. When she’s finished Michael uses one of the bibs Isobel brought to burp her easily and she lets out a yawn before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

“You’re a natural,” Isobel says, breaking the silence in the room.

Michael gives a small shrug in response. Turning to the bags Isobel brought, he asks, “Diapers and clothes?”

“I brought enough supplies for a few days,” Isobel says, pointing at the bag Michael needs. “I wasn’t sure what your plans were.”

“I don’t know what our plans are. I want to do everything properly, but I want her to have a better life than we did.”

“It would have been easier if we had another alien in our lives - a good one, I mean,” she corrects herself bitterly, “to teach us about our powers and where we came from.” She pauses for a moment, thinking. “You and Alex seem pretty settled here,” she gestures to cabin around her and Colgate curled up on her bed by the fireplace. “Have you two talked about kids?”

Michael barely masks his surprise as he stammers out a reply, “that’s not- no, I don’t know- we haven’t-”

“Isobel,” Liz interrupts, saving him from answering. “Could you give me a ride back to my car? I left it out in the desert when we brought her back.”

“Sure,” Isobel agrees. The look in her eyes tells Michael their conversation is far from over.

“I’ll come back with Max when he gets off work,” Liz says. “You’ll be okay by yourself until then?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Michael nods.

He’s thankful for the quiet when Liz and Isobel leave. He searches through the rest of the bags Isobel brought one-handed, gently rocking the sleeping baby with his other arm. He had changed and dressed her while talking to Isobel, so he set the diapers and onesies aside and pulled out a blanket and a soft green alien plushie. There was a box by the table that had a capsule that would work as a makeshift cot as well as being a car seat, but it would require two hands to assemble.

Satisfied he’s got the basics covered and overwhelmed by the day’s events, Michael lays down on the couch with the baby on his chest to wait for Alex to get home. His mind is replaying what Isobel said before she left,  and with thoughts of raising this baby with Alex he drifts off.

--

Alex opens the cabin door to a sight he was not expecting to see. Michael is asleep on the couch in the living room with their beagle sleeping under his feet as they dangle over the armrest. This is not an unusual sight, but what is strange to Alex is the baby asleep on Michael’s chest.

He closes the door as quietly as he can but Michael’s eyes flicker open at the sound.

“I can explain,” Michael says.

“I got your texts,” Alex assures him. “So I get why there’s a baby. But why is it here?”

Michael sits up, gently repositioning the baby in his arms.

“She doesn’t have family, so it was either the system,” Michael shudders involuntarily at the thought, “or one of us takes her. She cried when Liz and Kyle held her, and we’ve got the space here, so I’m looking after her until we work out what to do.”

Alex nods, stepping over to the couch. He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Michael’s lips, then runs a hand softly over the sleeping baby’s head.

“Domesticity looks good on you,” Alex smirks.

“Teaching looks good on you,” Michael replies. He uses his free hand to reach up and tug at Alex’s tie.

“Not in front of the child, Guerin,” Alex rolls his eyes, stepping out of Michael’s reach and rubbing Colgate’s belly. “You said Kyle’s been over, I take it he checked her over?”

“Yeah, she passed all of his tests. Liz took blood samples and compared them to mine, she’s definitely the same species as us.”

“What do Max and Isobel think about you finding another alien?” Alex sits down in the space Michael has made on the couch.

“Iz is… conflicted, I think. After everything with Noah, anything alien is going to make her suspicious. Max is coming over later and I have no idea what he’ll want to do.”

“Well, she can stay here as long as she needs,” Alex offers. “This cabin has always been a place for people with nowhere else to go.”

Fanfic: Obsessions (Jake Peralta X OFC)

Author’s note: Hi, this is like my first fic EVER, plus english is not my natural language, so if you see any misspellings please warn me (and be kind lol).

This story happens in the last episode of the season 2, here Amy never dumped Teddy and the ofc goes on the case in her place. Also Holt doesn’t leave the precinct.

Words: 3.466 more or less

Sinopse: A new detective arrived at the 99th precinct, Megan Moretti fought hard for this job. At first she doesn’t like Detective Peralta, so Holt puts her in a case with him to see if she get along.

Prologue

It's been two months since I became a detective of NYPD and transfered to the 99th precinct in Brooklyn. It wasn't my first option, but it turned out to be not that bad, I liked my coworkers and the cases were interesting. My boss Captain Raymond Holt was a really serious guy, but he always wanted our best and other detectives told me he really improved the work on the precinct. Gina Lanetti was Captain's Holt secretary, she usually did cruel coments about everyone and was really sarcastic, people's opinion about her would vary but everyone agreed that she was a inteligent, smart woman. Sargent Jeffords worked hard to garantee his baby girls a good life (and also because he is a good professional), he is really afectionate and helped me a lot when I first entered as a detective. My coleagues were kinda.... unic, Diaz is the tough girl, her friends know little about her personal life even though sometimes she ends up telling somethings, she is truly a great cop and you can count on her. Santiago is a perfectionist, sometimes is really hard to stand her method, but it benefits the precinct, also she always tries to support you. Boyle is a hard worker, his fondness can be taken as clumsyness sometimes, but he just likes people and can be astute when you're not expecting it. There is Hitchcock and Scully and.... I... I don't really know why do they still work there. Sargent Jeffords told me they are in the precinct since the 80's. And finally Jake Peralta, the childish, immature and annoying detective, Santiago told me he won a bet last year and got more arrests over the year than her, and she ended up in a date with him. I still don't know how she survived it and more: I don't know HOW he managed to arrest so many people. 

He was always joking and talking loud and.... well I couldn't understand why people, liked him. Boyle mentioned that he had a thing for Amy and I laughed my lungs out (which Boyle didn't like because he shipped it so hard). Amy was a smart, responsible woman who had a serious relationship with a cop from another precinct. And Jake was the guy who rarely talked serious (at least with me!) and eated gummies for lunch. 

Well let me tell you something, I entered the NYPD when I was still finishing college, I worked hard to be one of the most youngest detectives, I sacrificed friendships and dates for this. It was serious. So when I knew a 30something was playing around in his chair, throwing things on people and still got the most arrests in a year, it really got me annoyed. I worked hard to get here and Jake seemed to be blessed with some gift. I knew he was a good detective, it just seemed unfair. Anyway, I really liked my new job.

Chapter 1- How Long

 The day at the precinct started with Scully screaming because the vending machine needed to be replaced, it was funny to see that everyone was attached to it, I felt the urge to laugh, but as I was new and it seemed almost serious, so I thought better not to. That was until the the maintenance man droped the machine and it’s glass shattered. Obviously Jake had to scream “FREE CANDYYY” and everyone went for it. I decided to stay away and head to the meeting room. See, I don’t interact easily, it’s not that I don’t want to, I’ve never been good at it. When it all calmed down, they started to enter the room and sit and wait for Captain Holt, I watched as Peralta arrenged the presentation.

As soon as Holt has arrived, Jake introduced us to Michael Augustin, the ‘most prolific thief’, then he continued “My CI says tonight Augustine will hand off the laptop to a buyer from China, aka the "Land of Dragons” I rolled my eyes with the joke, Captain Raymond made sure he didn’t put that in his report and he replied with another joke “Okay, the country of dragons”. I was full of his childish manners in serious situations and said:

“Can we please go on with that?” I urged and sudenlly repented for doing so because the whole squad went quiet and looked at me. Gina said an almost inaudible ‘oooh’, Jake’s expression was like ‘wtf’. I tried my best to retrive it ”Uh... because I really need to...” it was when our Captain interrupted me.

“I want you and Moretti on his tail until he makes the drop and then arrest him and the buyer.” WHAT? I couldn’t believe he made me go on a ‘mission’ with Peralta... it seemed like he did it on purpose.

“Sounds good, although I could probaly just take Boyle, I know... Megan is busy and-“ I couldn’t contradict that (but I must admit it surprised me he didn’t want to go on this case with me) untill Captain Holt interrupted again:

“Peralta and Moretti will tail Augustin, Boyle and Diaz will join then in the surveillance van. Unless you have a problem with that.” And of course we didn’t have a problem with that. Nobody would dare to contradict the captain’s orders.

        Later in my desk, I was going through files to see if I could find anything that could help me in this case. I liked so much that my desk was right next to Rosa’s, no small talk, she is a great silent partner and I think she liked that too because I wouldn’t bother her. I was so accustomed to not having to talk and so into my work that I startled when Rosa addressed me:

“Hey. Are you okay with going after that guy tonight?” Well.. she was being nice. It was my first task this big since I arrived the precinct

“Oh yeah, I’m really excited, it will be nice to work with you and Boyle”

“Great.” And this was Rosa, straight to the point, but deep down she cared.

I was about to go back to my work when Gina called from her desk and told me captain Holt wanted to talk to me, I think she shouldn’t have done that because most people in the place gave me that look ‘girl, you’re screwed’. I took a deep breath and got up from my chair, with luck he would just want to know how I was doing with the work.

 Entering his office, I felt my anxiety rising and my palms sweating.

“It came to my knowledge that you do not get along with Detective Peralta, and for the best of the team I want you to work with him to settle this. That’s why I put you in this case with him” I wasn’t expecting for this, I knew Jake was like his prodigy or something like that, and it’s not that I hated him, it’s just that he annoys me with his stupid jokes.

“I didn’t know it was so apparent, sir. I’m sorry, I’ll try to see things from his side... it’s just that he is so childish and yet can be a great detective and I fought so much for this place..” as I explained mysef he raised his hand in a sign to let him talk.

“You know as a black man who is also gay, I fought a lot to be here” Ouch. Now thinking about what he’s been through my complainings seemed really little “When I first came in he did not want to wear ties, in the end he understood that it was na uniform. He grew a lot as a person and as a cop”.

“Yes, of course sir, I’m really embarrassed with this story. I’ll do my best.”

“You can go, and please tell Gina that I want to talk to her and Sargent Jeffords” It wasn’t that bad, if someone like Raymond Holt can like Jake perhaps I could like him too.

  At 6pm we were all in the car, around 6:20pm we stopped in front of a fancy restaurant, Augustin entered with his girlfriend. We saw him with the laptop and Jake suggested us to go inside undercover.

“Wait, we can’t go inside dressed like this” I said as I took of my jaquet and let my hair loose. I searched for a lip balm with a bit of color to apply, I stopped when I saw Rosa and Jake looking at me like I was weird “What? I always bring it so my lips won’t get dry”.

“Well me too, the Boyles have a condition that makes our lips go dry like the Sahara” said Charles while taking a lip moisturizer from his pocket.

 “UUGH” me, Rosa and Jake said in unison.

Thereafter, Jake put Scully’s blazer and it kinda looked cute, I mean funny.

As soon as we stteped into the restaurant, we saw Michael and his girlfriend, we asked for a table for two but the waitress said everything was booked out. It was when an Idea came to me. I said to mylself ‘Okay, we’re doing this’ and:

“Oh no, that’s horrible! Tonight is a really important night for us” Jake looked at me not knowing what to do, so I just grabed his arm and gave a squeeze and continued “Johnny and I just got engaged and this is where our first date was”. He appeared to understand and moved on.

“Yeah it would mean so much to Dora and me. I would have made a reservation but I didn’t know if she was gonna say yes” wow he was good!

“I Love how nervous you were you little goose” he was really good at it because it never crossed my mind that after that he would kiss my cheek.

I mean it was just a kiss in the cheek, but it’s been so long since I ever did something like that I felt goosebumps in my skin. It was silly and I was startlet. I really hoped that he didn’t notice my clumsiness. The woman in the balcony fell for it and said she would find us a table.

She told us to wait in a corner, Jake put his hand around my waist and I felt that my heart skipped a bit .While we waited, the atmosphere got heavyer, I tried to look to the other side to see if I could find Michael and his girl. Turned out we found them. Because our table was right next to their’s. I was praying to the gods that they would not pull conversation but it did not happen.

“You’re the couple that just got engaged!” Augustin’s girlfriend said cheerfully. They bought us champagne and kept asking us stuff like where did we met, what was the ring etc. We made it alive until Augustin said he wanted to say ‘hi’ to the chef. Jake thought he was going to make the drop but it turned out he just really wanted to say ‘’hi’. We had to think fast before Michael saw us there.

That’s when Jake holded my face and kissed me.

My head was like ‘BIIITCH WHAT THE FUUUCK???’ a rush of feelings passed throught my brain. Okay it was a simple Kiss. No tongue involved. And it worked because Augustin passed us by laughing.

 I separated quickly and said “Are you crazy?”

“Sorry, but it worked out fine” my face softened, ‘ok it was just work after all’.

“Right. Let’s get back to the case” I said and moved to the exit in a hurry.

In the car, Jake told Rosa and Charles what happened (except the Kiss part because Boyle would never let it go) and everything went silent until the car we were following stopped in an empty and poorly lit street. We saw Augustin get out of the car and drop the package.

“You and Rosa follow Augustine” said Jake to Charles “We’re gonna stay with the package”.

 And so they did, we kept waiting for the buyer’s arrival under a tree where it was dark so no one could see us.

“Why do you hate me?” asked Jake out of sudden. If I had something in my mouth I would have spilled it out. I hated this kind of situations because I suck at pulling feelings out.

 “I don’t hate you”

“Then why you don’t ever laugh at my jokes and always avoids me? You seemed very uncomfortable when Holt put you is this case” Okay, why did he cared about that?

 “Alright... at first I thought that you were really childish and annoying and I didn’t think it was fair for you to be such a great detective, but... you’re a good person. I’m sorry” I tried my best to explain myself. In fact when I said it out loud I realised that there was no reason for me to be so bothered with him. He always treated me nice and did his job.

“Ha, you said I’m a great detective” he uttered with a smile, I knew he wasn’t upset with me after that. In fact, when did his smile get so cute? “Hey, there is the buyer....he is looking at us”.

Again I remembered when Black Widow said that people feel uncomfortable with public displays of affection and kissed Jake. I must admit that I was starting to enjoy it. Shit, what was I thinking? It must have been the thrill of the entire context. Anyway, my move worked out because the guy grabbed the package and started to walk away. I saw that and soon reached for my gun and yelled “NYPD, FREEZE”

Jake completed me and said “You’re under arrest! This is a work event!”

 Shit. The reason why I disliked Peralta before may have been because I have a slight crush on him. I realised that as we got into the precinct and I watched his face as we arrested the buyer, I paid attention to his hands (I have a hand kink okay?) and his mouth and though about what they could do, I imagined what would he look like in the nude. Oh crap, I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I didn’t have this type of feelings in a long time because I choose to abandon social life to focus on my career. And  because my romantic relationships were all doomed to ruin. My subconscious probably opted for closing up, and it worked for a while.

Around 9:30pm I was at the living room when Jake showed up for me to sign the report. As I did he tried to break the ice with some awkward jokes.

“It’s okay, we’re professionals” I said to calm him down. I’m pretty sure he would have prefered to go on this case with Amy. Actually she entered the room in that moment and I swear I saw Jake’s eyes light up, his face softened and I knew he still liked her, I don’t know why I felt a bit of disappointment.

“Guys can you come here, I have something I need to tell everybody” she was super excited and I wondered what it was. We headed outside the living room, everyone was there except Rosa, I saw Charles in the other side of the room and I went to talk to him.

“Hey, where is Rosa?” I poked him in the arm.

“She is celebrating her bday with Marcus” he told me cheerfuly, I supposed Marcus was her boyfriend. I couldn’t ask because Amy went to talk.

“I have an annoucement to make... after dating for seven months, Teddy proposed” she made a pause even thought we all knew she said Yes, nobody would announce a broke up to everyone “I said Yes!”

The hole precinct celebrated, the good thing about being and introvert is that you can see things that other people don’t, while everyone was congratulating Amy, I saw Jake’s face from the other side of the circle of people around the bride. He certainly was caugh by surprise, he looked like he was still processing the information. I remember liking someone and not being corresponded (high school was hard). He noticed I was looking and I gave him a conforting smile, wich he replied.

Then I went to Amy to congrats her, Jake was the last one, but I shall say that he was a good liar, he smiled like he wasn’t hurt and even made jokes about it.

“We’ll go to the bar to celebrate, drinks on us” told Amy, everyone was so happy for them two.

  At the bar I felt bad. Bad because I usually didn’t go out, I didn’t drink and didn’t know how to Interact with sober people, but drunk people was a hole new level. I was sitting in some table away from the party, my glass half empty with the same drink from hours ago when Jake came to where I was. I made a nodd inviting him to sit and so he did. Really close to me.

“Why aren’t you there?” I could tell he was drunk. Really drunk, his voice was inebriated when he spoke

“I don’t know” I responded, he put his glass down onto the table and lowered himself towards it. I didn’t know what to do, so I just put my hand reluctantly on his back and we stayed like that for a moment.

“Everything is going to change now” He affirmed after an instant of silence. Poor man.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home, you let me drive your car?” I asked and he nodded, I had the feeling that in his state he would’ve said yes to anything I asked. I had a driver licence, but choose to use the bus or the subway instead of owning a car.

We made an excuse, although people started to leave anyway because it was late, I asked Boyle where Jake’s apartment was since it’s resident was too drunk and I didn’t want to take the risk. The ride was too quiet and I noticed Jake sleeping in the passanger’s seat. ‘Poor baby’ I though, after years of shutting down to crushes and dates I couldn’t deny it anymore, it hurt to want something I couldn’t have. But I was sure his situation was worst than mine.

I stopped in the parking lot of his building and pushed his arms to woke him up. Turned out he woke up kinda scared untill he realised where he was. I asked the number of his ap and escorted him there.

I was leaving when he called my name

“Megan, stay” I froze as he spoke this words and turned back to him. He looked me in the eyes and I didn’t know what to do. The last thing I knew it’s that he crushed his lips on mine, and this kiss wasn’t like the others, it was intense, it was needy, and it was good, his tongue played with mine. It was my first kiss in ages, I could taste the alcohol in his mouth and it was the only time I liked it. He turned me around so my back was against the door of his ap, his hands on my waist pushing me closer to his body. I felt my stomach twirl and my hole body heat.

We heard steps comming and we separeted our mouths, I instantly felt the loss of it, he searched for the keys in his pockets and opened the door, pulling me inside and then closing it quickly. I droped my bag on the floor. Soon his mouth was on mine again, my arms reached up, my left hand tugged on his hair, he started to trail kisses down to my neck stoping to suck on it, I moaned as the sensations long forgotten rushed through my body again.

His right hand pushed my hair, to give him better access to my collarbone as he made a trace of kisses across my sensitive skin. I could feel my center growing hot and wet, my hips rubbed against his and his now increasing erection. His other hand went down to clutch my butt.

I couldn’t believe what was happening, in fact I started to think about it. We were coworkers, he was drunk and in love with someone else. I didn't want to be just a body for him to outlet his frustration. Not that I needed his true love, but after several delusions, I preferred to avoid this situations. I shoved my hands against his chest

“Jake, stop” he looked deeply into my eyes and I saw his confusion in the street light coming in through the window “I...we can’t” I separeted our bodies, grabbed my bag and left his apartment as fast as I could.

 Author’s note: So I want to make a sequel, but it may depend on the feedback of this one shot. Thank you xx

177. “Hail to the Thief,” 178. “In Rainbows,” 179. “King of Limbs,” 180. “A Moon Shaped Pool” by Radiohead

Here we are. At that point where I have to defend my previous assertion that Hail to the Thief (#177) is closer to my heart than the widely-beloved Kid A. And here we go…

There are 14 tracks, far more than any other Radiohead album, and I only dislike one of them. And it’s not “We Suck Young Blood” (it’s “The Gloaming”). Like, “Blood” is a creepy, chain-rattling chiller with deliberately cracked vocals and that cool little jazzy breakdown between the verses. “The Gloaming” is like a ghost taking a nap.

Even stranger, my favorite songs are all in a little clump in the last third. Right after the aforementioned downers, this suite of winners begins with “There, There,” the lead single. Featuring one of the loveliest, slightly gritty guitar lines in the catalogue and a chorus lyric (“Just ‘cause you feel it, doesn’t mean it’s there”) that stings, if not like a knife in the heart, than maybe like a sharpened icicle in the lower abdomen. “I Will” is one second shy of 2 minutes, but there is beauty in the utter simplicity of gently-strummed electric guitar and three-part Yorke harmony. It’s the soundtrack to staring into a dying fire. And it transitions right into “A Punchup At a Wedding,” slinky and pissed-off at once, sitting next to “You and Whose Army?” as the straight-up coolest piano numbers. One of these days, mark my words, I will master it, because it’s just fairly repetitive chords. But the distinct rhythm of the pounding on the keys has always slightly eluded me.

The escalating tension of this killer suite boils over in crunchy, foreboding synth and aggressive drums on “Myxomatosis.” “I— don’t— know— why I— feel so— tongue… tied” is, I believe, the exact cadence of the chorus, and I can identify with those moments when the churning chemical processes make articulate expression impossible.

15 years on, Thief remains hard for people to pin down. Though there are a few “angry” songs, the material is not explicitly about political leaders or Blair or Bush. That title pun was read as a pissy, middle finger salute as on-the-nose as a Banksy, despite any statements made by the band members to downplay that interpretation. Unlike the albums that made their name, this collection of songs lacks an over-arching thematic focus, which may still hurt its legacy. But I will continue to argue passionately for the music’s inherent strength. The follow-up, released four years later, requires no such defense.

In Rainbows (#178) was my introduction to Radiohead. It has and will probably fulfill that same purpose for a lot of others. From 2007-2010, I was in college, majoring in film production and spending a lot of time in a windowless room filled with iMacs. I give you the range of years, because I’m not positive just how fresh the surprise late-’07 digital release of that album was when my friend Seth handed me the thumb drive in that iMac editing lab. College is a time to experiment with new experiences, you see, and I really only followed that credo when it came to dadaist TV comedies and ponderous rock bands. So in that sterile environment, when I should have been working, I put in earbuds instead.

“15 Step” began with clapboard beats played through a glitchy hard drive. Thom lamented another repeat of the vicious cycle. Then Jonny’s guitar came in, soft and inviting as your pillow, bolstered by Colin Greenwood’s nimble bass. A sample of schoolyard cheers, and then we stepped off the sheer drop. The rest of the album was what I saw as I fell and hit the ocean’s surface, a sort of “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” if the man dreamt of the noose tightening anyway. “Nude” is the haughty confirmation of the protagonist’s fear in “There, There”— “Don’t get any big ideas, they’re not gonna happen” is the lilting, falsetto admonishment. It shares DNA with R.E.M.’s “Tongue” from 1994’s Monster, to the point of sibling rivalry. But Michael Stipe’s feminine protagonist on that tune feels like an amusing pose in comparison.

To continue both the R.E.M. connection and the falling man’s dilemma, the split title of “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” acknowledges the rapid, repeating guitar technique that that band’s Peter Buck made a staple, but here it sounds like water rushing overhead. I’m sinking deeper, but I’ve determined that the way out is through. By the time the clacking boneyard beat and flickering piano of “Videotape” laid the album to rest back in that college computer lab, I felt like I’d been through something. That some synaptic pathways had been rewired by a piece of art in that way that becomes neurologically harder and harder to achieve again as the years go by. The hypnotic draw of this series of songs is impossible to shake even after an ensuing near-decade of revisitation.

By the time The King of Limbs (#179) leaked onto the web in 2011, Radiohead had been taking over my brain one used CD purchase at a time. As I collected the discography, marveling at OK Computer and puzzling at Pablo Honey, the security blanket melodies and instrumentation of In Rainbows wriggled in ever deeper. So the murky production, polyrhythmic grooves, and murmured vocals of Limbs were not immediately arresting. “It’s a grower,” I gently warned people when handing them a burned CD-R. Meaning over multiple listens, not over the course of the album: at 8 tracks and 37 minutes, it’s as fleet as a couple of their EPs.

Opener “Bloom” is like the score to a Biblical epic as listened to through a glass pressed to a hotel room wall, all muted horns and a vocal that sweeps like sun rays. “Morning Mr. Magpie” and “Little by Little” are statements of Limbs’ groove-focused identity, and melody-wise tend to blend into each other with little resistance. Where the guitar on Rainbows was a hand to guide you, here it’s another rhythm component, along with the doubled-up drum kit: as the band took the songs on the road, they enlisted Clive Deamer to join long-time drummer Philip Selway. Four hands were better than two to create the beds these compositions required.

“Feral” jettisons pop song structure completely as a cut-up chord collage dashed against unstoppable train drums.  “Lotus Flower” is 2/3rds floor-rattling bass, 2/3rds hand-claps, and 2/3rds crystalline falsetto: as mathematically impossible as Yorke’s dance moves in the video. The album closes out with three pastorally pretty and almost terminally mellow numbers: the deep embedded roots of “Codex,” the treetop birdsong of “Give Up the Ghost,” the late Sunday morning wakeup of “Separator.” The melodies are sweet invitations, but I can understand if they sound, in their final produced form, like rock n’roll Ambien. The live arrangements, like those recorded for the “From The Basement” special, are generally thought to breathe extra life into the tunes. The recent Hans Zimmer/Radiohead reimagining of “Bloom” for “Blue Planet 2” makes that song’s cinematic ambitions more readily apparent, as well. But I’ve got a soft spot for any and all versions, and don’t feel any sting of disappointment that TKOL wasn’t In Rainbows Part 2.

The 4-5 year gaps between records has proven an energizing practice for the band’s members as they explore their own projects. Jonny Greenwood created an impressive body of work as Paul Thomas Anderson’s film composer of choice, Yorke (with producer Nigel Godrich in tow) collaborated with Flea on Atoms For Peace and indulged DJ-focused electronica on the self-released Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes. Where Rainbows had drawn inspiration for its sonic approach from the close-miked intimacy of Yorke’s solo record The Eraser (more on that next time), 2016’s A Moon Shaped Pool (#180) has Greenwood’s stellar orchestral composition work threaded throughout. 

Any hazy production cobwebs from TKOL are swept aside by the Bernard Hermann stabbing strings and depth charge bass line of “Burn the Witch,” the true paranoid opus of our surveillance state age. “Red crosses on wooden doors, and if you float, you burn,” Yorke hums and coos, deliberately juxtaposing his trademark vibrating falsetto against the dire warnings. “We Know Where You Live,” stated the cryptic postcards sent to fans, and it was true, because we’ve offered our whereabouts freely to whoever will listen. “Daydreaming” follows its own somnambulant trajectory, with piano that ambles along until periodically the notes catch a long wind, to paraphrase the Feist song, swirling like cel-painted animated leaves. The video closes the gap between Jonny’s prestige film work and his longest-running gig with P.T. Anderson helming a low-key gorgeous M.C. Escher puzzle of Thom moving purposefully through an endless series of doors, spaces, environments.

Before the album dropped, I saw a live clip of Yorke debuting “Desert Island Disk,” just he and his acoustic guitar. The studio version does little to distract from that simple backbone: it’s a sweet, dexterous garden party riff bolstered with gentle drumming and subtle synth washes. “Glass Eyes,” the shortest, most melancholy track, has taken hold like an itch in the mind. Watery electric piano and Yorke’s murmured phone message verses slip through like a dream you struggle to remember the details of, until suddenly the exact angle of a cold gray street corner sparks a complete deja vu, and the heart-rending string section swells.

I’ve taken to playing “The Numbers” at inappropriate volumes, lately. Symphonic rock is nothing new, but it’s rare to hear such a mid-tempo acoustic groove be so suddenly opened up by falling stomach cello courtesy of London Contemporary Orchestra. “We call upon the people / The people have this power / The numbers don’t decide / The system is a lie” is the undeniable political exhortation, and the strings are the wielded tools of revolution: if “Burn The Witch” was a warning against mob rule, “The Numbers” is a rallying cry for positive upheaval.

“True Love Waits,” and there’s no better evidence for that sentiment than the official release of this song from the era of “The Bends.” Live performances and bootlegs through the years featured variations on acoustic guitar or Rhodes piano. Repeated attempts in the studio every few years yielded nothing wholly satisfying. In its final version, closing the album, reverb-laden grand piano and Yorke’s ghostly yearning is joined by glittering ice crystal notes that steadily accumulate. In my head I see the scene from A.I. in which the artificial boy, David, patiently and gratefully beholds the Blue Fairy, as his systems freeze into a thousand years of sleep. Melancholy become manifest.

In the next entry, I’ll jump out of alphabetical order to revisit two of Thom Yorke’s extracurricular activities.

What If one of the fakes had a high school reunion or something like that and just took the crew and it somehow ended in a shoot out with the cops.

Let’s just be clear, it’s not a pride thing. Geoff has never cared what people said about him, not outside a professional sense anyway; he knew exactly who he was, what he was capable of, even before he’d taken an entire city to its knees. So it’s not that he felt the need to prove himself, it’s just that there’s something particular about high school trauma, isn’t there? Something that lingers, even when it shouldn’t, something that emerges from even the most upstanding adults when thrown back together for a reunion, the bullies and the bullied, all desperate to show what they’ve become.Geoff’s last high school was nothing like he’d ever been to before, a snobby upper-crust hellhole he was only in because his Ma’s third husband pulled some strings, and the other students were quick to point out just how much he didn’t belong. Between the tattoos and the smoking, the lazy looks and slow sneering drawl, it was always all too easy to label Geoff a loser, a drop out, trailer park trash everyone knew would be washing their cars one day. Never mind that he scored higher than most of his cohort even when skipping more or less every class, never mind that he is possibly the most well-read crime-lord in the country, back then he had an image and teenagers are relentless. Not that Geoff was all that phased even at the time, only a year or so away from the day he picked up his first gun and never looked back, but it’s the principal of the thing.So when an invite forwards through from an email so old he’d forgotten he’d even made it Geoff has to laugh. Then pause, consider, hatch an utterly ridiculous idea, and laugh some more. Because he might not care, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy ruining the night for all the pathetic stuck-up nobodies he went to school with; rubbing your success in everyone’s faces is what reunions are for, after all. The fact that it has a theme, that it is masquerade of all things, really just cements Geoff’s resolve to drag his crew halfway across the country into one of the strangest nights of their lives.Everyone knows the option to bring a guest to these events is, in reality, the offer to bring a romantic partner, singular, but it isn’t technically stated. There are no rules barring Geoff from RSVP-ing for 7, so that’s exactly what he does. Sure he receives a few increasingly less polite emails suggesting he’d been mistaken but he doesn’t even bother opening them, doesn’t try to clarify that he is bringing his friends, his family, not his entire harem. Let them talk; they’d do it anyway. Plus, it’s not like the Fake’s aren’t all entirely too pleased with the suggestion, cackling hyenas who spend the next few weeks laying it on thick, batting their eyes and blowing Geoff kisses, picking out increasingly absurd meet-cute stories to tell his scandalised classmates. Between creating new identities and playing dress up in masks and suits they couldn’t be happier.Masks or not they catch every eye in the room when they make their entrance and why wouldn’t they; Geoff and his unusual request must have been the talk of the rumour mill and identity hidden or not clearly this must be Geoff, it’s not like anyone else brought along 6 dates. As stage whispers hit a dull roar it’s obvious no one was prepared for what they were seeing, perhaps imagined instead stained tank tops and a string of strung-out baby mama’s, not expensively tailored suits and an attractively refined entourage. Paying the noise no heed Geoff swans into the room with Jack looking elegant on one arm, Gavin at his most Ken-doll glamorous tucked under the other, flanked on either side by Ryan, Michael, Jeremy and Ray, all dressed to impress.Shock and jealousy aren’t good looks on anyone, let alone rich brats turned elitist yuppies, so Geoff’s classmates behave just as poorly as he’d anticipated, years and newfound maturity doing nothing to stop the tittering laughter, the sneers and judgmental looks, fake pleasantry and condescending questions. But then, his crew didn’t exactly play nice with them either.Ray and Jeremy immediately beeline to the food table and bar, respectively, and each set themselves up and settle in for the night; loud, obnoxious and tactlessly talking about everyone around them. When asked about themselves or their relationship to Geoff they’re both frustratingly vague, Jeremy chattering away without saying much at all and Ray simply staring people down until they can’t bear the tension.Michael and Ryan set off together to explore the room but quickly separate to accommodate their vastly different methods of surveillance. Ryan skulks into the background, ducking numerous attempts to catch his interest in favour of fading into unlit corners and empty nooks, frightening the life out of anyone trying to slip away for some private time. Michael, on the other hand, seems determined to be the life of the party, cheerfully making conversation only to laugh in the face of every so-called achievement, ruffling feathers and causing major offence wherever he goes.Gavin slinks off like a man on a mission and doesn’t come back for over an hour, offering no explanation for the absence beyond a dangerously self-satisfied smirk. His work becomes obvious soon enough anyway, once the yelling starts; Geoff’s two main high-school tormentors, mentioned only in passing stories over the years, simultaneously having huge, public, relationship-ending blow ups with each of their significant others. What are the odds? Across the hall Gavin laughs, all tinkling glass and sparkling charm, smoothly working the room like Michael’s mirror opposite.Jack stays at Geoff’s side all night, hackles raised into something abnormally cold and unimpressed any time someone comes up to speak to them, protective instincts in full force no matter how often Geoff claims to be unaffected. He fills her in on all the worst gossip about those who approach, and as the night progresses and general unease begins to spread Jack mellows, sinking back into something sweet and mocking, somehow even more unsettling playing docile arm-candy than she was rabid guard dog.Throughout the night the Fake AH Crew remain a key topic of every casual conversation; they might have been regardless, even this far from Los Santos no one can get enough of their scandals, but with the huge heist pulled just last week there was no way to avoid it, everyone has their two cents, their praise and condemnation. It’s too funny, the whole crew killing themselves trying not to break character, to laugh or correct or manipulate the conversation but all their self-control is well rewarded in the end.Half the room removed their masks less than an hour into the night; too difficult to eat and talk and drink in, too vain to keep their hard earned looks covered, so it’s not at all strange when the Fake’s start to follow suit. Jeremy and Ray start it, the newest member and the one caught on camera the least often, casually dropping their masks mid-conversation. They each get a confused squint or two, a double glance, a few individuals trying to place them, remember how they’d met before, why they were so familiar.Next came Gavin and Michael, having goaded each other out onto the dance-floor they were playing as much as they were moving to the music, laughing and grappling and generally making a bit of a scene. They snatch off each other’s masks as they play and the looks double, because alone they’re each distinctive but together, together, people have seen those faces together, somewhere they’ve seen them and so often together..Last is Jack and Geoff, more graceful than their counterparts and moving with far more purpose they reveal their faces in the centre of the room and, like a party trick, they instantly catch the whole room’s attention. Out of context, in ones and twos where they don’t belong, the members of the FAHC could be mistaken but no one in the country would fail to recognise Ramsey and Patillo, the kingpin and his right hand, rulers of the most well-known gang in the US. And here they stand, casually mingling at a high school reunion.In the calm before the storm the crew gravitates back towards one another, can almost see the cogs turning around them, the lightbulbs flickering on in a slow ripple spreading out across the room, disbelief and the first hint of horror swirling together as people start unconsciously reaching for their phones. As Ryan slips back out and wanders over, the last still masked, always masked, the chatter seems to crescendo then crash into something still and almost silent as a room full of entitled trust-fund babies recognise their own terror.Finally uncovered and flanked by his family Geoff’s grin creeps across his face, slow and violent and more confirmation than anyone needed as he lets the oppressive tension sit for a long moment, arms spreading out to his sides like a magician revealing a clever trick before he breaks the silence; Surprise motherfuckers. Guns are pulled from jackets and from there it’s all running and screaming, no honour or courage, just a stampede for the exits to the sound of cackling laughter and the occasional aimless pot-shot. The Fake’s aren’t looking for lives, not worth the hassle really, and this job certainly has no monetary reward beyond the wallets Geoff’s filthy little thieves have no doubt absconded with, but the fear in the air is delightful and even the sound of incoming sirens can’t ruin the mood. If anything it only hypes them up further, all savage grins and ramping excitement as they make for doors, reloading their weapons and pumping themselves up for a whole new police force to terrorise, Geoff’s magnificent little miscreants.On the way out they pass a wall of yearbook photos, blown up large and captioned with names and all the old superlative awards. Ryan stumbles to a halt and snorts, snatching one off the wall and tucking it into his jacket to take back to the penthouse, though not before flashing the Lads a glance at that all too recognisable face, sending them into peals of screeching laughter as they pour out into the night. Geoffrey Fink; Least likely to succeed. 

Whisky Jewbilee VI was a roaring success in New York City not more than a few weeks ago. The Boys of the Jewish Whisky Company bring the fun o’ plenty and a smorgasbord of Kosher chow AND new whisky like their own new retail line, Westland’s Garryana 2017, Amrut’s Spectrum, and all of the 2017 Feis Ile Islay Festival Bottlings (!).  But as usual, and happily, it’s seeing all of the great friends and whisky family all in one place that makes Whisky Jewbilee so, so (not so-so) special! It’s like Thanksgiving without Uncle Leonard ticking off Grandma because she forgot to put sage in the gravy…

C’mon Leonard, give Granny a break and get back to your kanoodling with the new 24 year old wife (that’s her real hair color?!) and pass the dark meat and bourbon. You’ve had plenty of both!

Luckily, with whisky family, there’s only laughter, tasting notes, and more laughter. And sage. Never forget the sage. As we’ve said before, whisky is all about connections and reconnecting. It’s the SuperGlue of this nice little community keeping us together like your thumb and forefinger that get stuck whilst trying to fix that stupid mug you got at Joe’s BBQ in Kansas City so many years ago, then clumsily whacked against the counter leaving you permanently gesturing “Ok” all in the name of home repair when you could easily order another stupid mug from Joe’s semi-secure website plus the embroidered apron and 20 lbs of ribs with a quart of Joe’s homemade BBQ sauce shipped overnight. Cheap bastard has to fix things himself and instead buys said self a night of acetone washes and a few layers of skin wonting.

Please sit back with a stellar whisky and enjoy our slide show of Whisky Jewbilee VI with actual overheard conversations using actual electronic surveillance equipment purchased over the internet along with detailed drawings of every North Korean nuclear power plant built in the last 25 years including the one that looks like a Starbucks…

“My fly is down. I can feel the breeze from the Hudson River.”

“Didn’t I tell you to check before we left the little boys room after you tinkled? Keep smiling; it’ll be over in 12 more clicks. How many photos does he need? I see vegetarian Kosher sausage that needs my attention!”

“I can easily get into her purse and take her Blackberry. Wait, what am I going to do with a Blackberry? Is that even a thing anymore?  Probably only works in Canada.  I’ll take the garage door opener. Wait, why does she have a garage door opener in her purse?  She doesn’t even have a garage.  Juicy Fruit?!  Juicy Fruit?!  Oh, c’mon!  This is just silly.  Fine, I’ll take the damn Victorinox Outrider Damast Limited Edition pocket knife with Damascus steel and punctuated by robust and environmentally friendly black epicurean scales. She’ll never miss that.”

“I love your Instagram posts so much! I may cry! Please hug me. Please!”

“Throw the damn bottle already, would you?! I’ve caught them in my teeth many times!”

“If I had a dollar every time I heard that line, I’d be living in bloody California by now.”

“If you don’t throw the damn bottle, I’m going to whack Joshua over the head with a Kosher chorizo sausage!”

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

“I see a little silhouetto of a man… Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango? Thunderbolt and lightning! Very, very frightening me… (Galileo) Galileo… (Galileo) Galileo… Galileo Figaro… Magnifico-o-o-o-o…“

“I was only expecting whisky at this thing, but singing too? Wow! He’s not bad. What d0 you guys think?”

“He’s no George Michael.”

“He’s no Adam Lambert.”

“He’s no Paul Rodgers.”

“He’s no Roy Rogers.”

“Mmmm. Roy Rogers. Let’s get burgers!”

“So this guy walks up to me. Says his name is G-LO. Now I don’t know this guy from Adam, yet he has the nerve to ask me where I got this glass. So I look this mook right in the eye and I tell it to him straight… I. Bought. The. Glass. With my own money. The guy just looks at me with this deer caught in the headlights expression on his face…I swear, they’ll let anyone in to this event. What ever happened to standards?”

“Wait, I’ll google it. Is there wi-fi in here? Whatever. There’s a store nearby where you can get a burgundy sports coat. We’ll look GREAT! Do you guys know any Wiggles songs?”

“I’ll smile for the camera, and you guys see how many of these that you can stuff into your pants.”

“High Five me! I just got Brenne into the White House liquor cabinet and it’s only going to cost us, the American taxpayer, $1.3 billion. We’re making America drink again!”

“I can’t tell you the code, but I can give you a code to get the code so you can get the recipe online which is in code. You’ll need a code for that too.”

“Ladies and gentleman, please welcome to the stage…Mr. Skyfab himself, Tom Jones!”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“I know. Captioning pictures wasn’t my idea, but how do you review the greatest whisky festival ever?!”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Stop saying that.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Get. Out!”

“You didn’t have to shove me in the chest.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“I’m not wearing shoes because I’m a Texan and we do whatever you all are afraid to do. Wimps.”

“I know a guy downstairs looking for a burgundy sports coat. I bet he’d buy your blouse. I’ll text him. Do they have wi-fi in here?”

“Two Gals and a Dork”. Season 1 available for streaming on Netflix this Friday.

“It’s whisky. W-h-i-s-k-y. Very popular these days, I dare say. Yes, you drink it. No, you don’t do shots of it. Yes, it’s brown, but that’s ok. No, it doesn’t have an expiration date. Yes, it’s alcohol. No, it’s not free. Yes, it might find you a wife. No, it won’t make you go blind. Yes, you buy it in stores, but not 7-11. No, there isn’t a special prize inside the box other than the whisky itself. Yes, I am above average height. No, I most certainly do not have an accent. Yes, if I opened the window and you leapt out, you would die. No, we wouldn’t stop Whisky Jewbilee for that. Yes, we would be sad. No, we wouldn’t give your goody bag to anyone except next of kin. Yes, I’ll hold your glass. No, you should try the whisky before you jump. No, I don’t think it’s a good decision but it’s an excellent whisky, now available in a better spirits shops near you. Yes, they mostly likely will take credit cards. No, not Discover. Yes, they’ll charge sales tax. No, I haven’t tried Apple Pay. Yes, mobile payment services would seem to be the wave of the future. No, I don’t know how it works, but I don’t believe there are tiny bank people in your phone. Yes, there are a lot people here. No, I don’t like sad songs. Yes, it does burn a little on the first taste. No, my name is not Glen Tauchers. Yes, those people are Jewish. No, it’s rude to point. Yes, they can smote you with one phone call. No, you can’t use my phone. Yes, I have an unlimited data plan. No, you can’t have the rest of the bottle. Yes, you’re my only customer. No, more customers will only make my job more difficult. Yes, the food is included in your ticket. No, there is no pork, shrimp, shark, barracuda, snails, lobster, crab, sea anemone, rabbit, wild boar, frog, owl, pelican, ferret, turtle, capybara, or dragon. Yes, there are napkins. No, I gave at the office. Yes, I will pour you a wee bit more. No, I can’t drink on the job. Yes, my zipper was down earlier. No, it’s not anymore. Yes, I think the woman pouring that whisky over there is very pretty. No, I don’t think she’ll be your wife. Yes, it never does hurt to ask. No, you’ll make a lovely couple. Yes, I’ll be your best man. No, there is no wi-fi.”

“The Tipperary is the soft beating heart of a small quail by morning’s light. Tender and tame like a Joe Montana to Roger Craig quick, simple and accurate screen pass on 3rd and short from the scripted first fifteen Walsh-devised plays where delicate touch is required and oh, so soothing. But, KAPOW, like a Batman boffo belly aching upper cut, it hits with the rugged security of the Dark Knight covering the city with vinyl bat wings casting their omnipresent shadow over a city in need of love and protection from the evils that scourge its alleys and streets. The finish is Finis; abrupt like the snapping of an 8mm reel moving picture, the kind we slept through in elementary school while waiting for the warm sunlight of recess to bathe us anew.”

“The Ohishi is Distilled Rice not A-Roni duh Haiku is funny”

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Many thanks to Jason and Joshua of Single Cask Nation for once again hosting one of the greatest whisky shows that the world has ever seen!

#Whiskileaks: Overheard Tales from #NYC @WhiskyJewbilee VI! @monocaskism @jewmalt #WhiskyFabric Whisky Jewbilee VI was a roaring success in New York City not more than a few weeks ago.