When you're rich enough, you get perks you can only dream of. Literally. But somehow, my paradise turned into hell.
Have you ever had a dream so amazing, you wished you could relive it? Explore it? Relish it? Well, when you're rich enough, you don't have to wish. It's a reality thanks to dream banks. You may have heard of them and their pricy services, which include recording, saving, and projecting dreams.
For example, if you'd like a dream recorded, you can book one of their luxurious suites for the night, where the dream techs will fit you with a special helmet and leave you to rest. The next morning, they'll replay the recorded dream for you via the helmet and ask if you want to shell out the extra bucks to save it. If you don't, they'll delete it and you can pay to book for another time to try again.
If you do decide to save it, you must select an item within the dream that will act as the exit key. (This will come in handy during projections.) While still wearing the helmet, you must touch the item, and the dream techs will label those electric signals as the key.
Afterwards, everything is saved under your name, and you can now relive your dream at any time by booking a suite for three, five, or eight hours. Unlike recordings, during projections, you don't have to wait for sleep to come. After you enjoy a snack of your choice, the helmet is fitted and you're immediately transported to your dream, where you have free will and can enjoy it at your leisure. And if you ever need to leave early, this is when you touch the key, which will shut down the helmet right away.
In my case, the key is the stegosaurus leather rug I have hanging on the wall of my throne room. I never have a reason to touch it otherwise, making it a perfect key. I've also never had to touch it. Experiencing life as an all-powerful, worshipped being who lives on my own planet and hunts dinosaurs in my spare time, I relished my dream to the last second.
Yes, the fees are exorbitant, but at the time, I felt it was worth it. The techs were skilled, the system was sleek, and the dreams were private. Each could only be unlocked by the unique brainwaves of the dreamer.
Or so I thought.
My literal nightmare began when I booked a five-hour projection on a rainy Friday afternoon. After taking a sip of champagne to wash down the cranberry brie bites, I settled into the cool silk sheets with a smile. My usual dream tech smiled back as she fastened my helmet, and the last thing I heard was her wishing me pleasant dreams before I was plunged into darkness.
I waited for the split-second adjustment from reality to the dream world, and my confusion grew when I didn't find myself on my throne surrounded by fawning gods and goddesses.
Instead, I found myself in the middle of an endless street. Alone. There were no cars, no life, not even wind. Towering street lamps lined the sidewalk as far as I could see, arcing over the road and tinting everything an eerie red. Behind them, identical buildings stood side by side, silent, their dark, narrow windows hollow.
My pulse spiking, I whipped around. The other direction was just as endless. Uneasy confusion prickled beneath my skin. This had to be someone else's dream. The techs must have made a mistake. I didn't know how it was possible, but there was no other explanation.
My unease piqued as my situation sank in. I was in a stranger's dream and I didn't know the key. I was stuck here until my five hours ran out. Or until the techs realized their mistake. I was ready to rip them a new one once I was out, but until then, I had no choice but to wait.
I studied my surroundings with a frown before I walked over to the curb and sat down, and that was when I noticed I couldn't feel anything. I also noticed I was naked. It didn't matter. There was no one here, and none of this was real anyway.
Time passed, and I tried to distract myself from my nettled offense by humming, but no sound came out. Sitting up, I took a deep breath and screamed. Not even a squeak was heard. I slapped my hand against the ground. Nothing. This place was like a black hole of the senses.
Sighing, I lay down on my back and stared at the red light above me, wondering if I could fall asleep in a dream. I tried, but the more I wished to escape this silent, crimson prison, the more it seemed to come into focus. Soon, the utter lack of noise and movement grew from slightly unnerving to completely intolerable.
There was no way I could wait. I'd go insane. I had to get out of here. I had to find the key.
Jumping up, I ran to the nearest building and wrenched open the door, and a pitch black void greeted me. I gasped, and gasped again as it felt like my very breath was being suctioned out of my lungs. Panicking, silent wheezes rattled in my chest as I struggled to yank myself out of the vacuum, jerking my limbs and bucking my body until I toppled over backwards on the sidewalk.
Gulping in fitful breaths, I scrambled to my feet and ran down the road without looking back, my wide eyes scanning the horizon for salvation. I just wanted out of here, but the hellish path stretched on forever, making me feel like I was running in place as every identical building and street lamp mocked me. Even my silent stomping and mute panting served to draw insanity closer.
And then, a person showed up.
There, in the distance.
With my hope spurred, I raced towards them, desperate. I didn't care who they were. I needed to break this monotony.
As I got closer, hope morphed to confusion, and then to despair. The person was me. It was a mirror, propped up across the entire street.
Sweat-soaked, I slowed down to a jog before I stopped right in front of my reflection. It was me alright, naked, exhausted, and frustrated. But the eyes, something was off about the eyes. With an anxious frown, I stepped closer, staring into them, and they stared back …
… until they glanced behind me.
I gasped and jumped away, and so did my reflection … before it glanced over my shoulder again.
A chill trickled down my spine. My reflection had nothing behind it but the empty street, so I gulped and turned around, and my mouth fell open in a silent scream as a lovecraftian behemoth barrelled its way towards me. With its slick shell gleaming red beneath the lights, it slammed down one spiny tentacle after the other as its five mouths bared their dripping, concentric fangs.
Drenched in undiluted horror, tremors gripped my body as I stumbled away until my back was against the mirror. I knew death was a foolproof key in a dream, but I didn't know if this creature would kill me right away or leave me to suffer in agony until my five hours were up.
With it only inches away, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed myself into the mirror, and my stomach flipped as I fell backwards. I opened my mouth to gasp, but there was nothing for me to draw in. Floating in an airless void, I flailed and thrashed, my wild eyes scanning the darkness for answers as I began to spin around.
Although death would free me, one of my greatest fears was suffocating. On one of my weightless rotations, a red, glass cube passed me by, and I grabbed it, hoping it was a breathing device. I brought it close to my face, and I gawked at what it held within.
Me.
Surrounded by identical buildings and red street lamps while a lovecraftian behemoth tore me apart.
Horrified, I threw the cube as far as I could and increased my efforts to escape this void. Yet all the flailing and thrashing was for naught as the darkness revealed no end. My eyesight began to go red as my lungs spasmed, and I clawed at my throat as my pulse stuttered in my chest.
The red kept growing and growing until it engulfed my entire vision, and I gave up. There was nothing to do but face my fears and die. With my straining heart lumbering, I let myself go limp as I stared at the red and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I wasn't dying.
In fact, I could breathe just fine.
Frowning, I opened my eyes, and intense unease spread through my core. Above me, a red moon had taken up the entire sky, each one of its craters crystal clear, like eyes watching me. I turned my head away, and I realized I was in a park, laying down on the grass. Sitting up, I blinked in surprise at the pond right beside me, its opaque water reflecting the moon's red light. Ducks were swimming in a circle across its surface, their movements smooth with nary a splash.
Trees surrounded us, so dense I couldn't tell when one began and the other ended. It was mind-numbingly quiet here as well, and I still couldn't feel anything or make any noise, but at least the ducks were moving. This place seemed more tolerable than the last, and I was willing to wait out my five hours here. I hoped at least an hour had passed already, but with dreams, one never knew. All I knew was that I was too exhausted to search for the key. And too scared. I didn't know whose dream this was, but they had to be masochistic if they saved this nightmare.
Curling up beside the pond, I worked on calming myself down as I watched the ducks swim in their systematic circle over and over and over. I tried counting the rotations the way one would count sheep, but that still didn't lull me to sleep. I wished I'd chosen the three-hour projection, but at least I hadn't chosen the eight-hour one.
Distorted circus music crackled around me and I jolted up, my heart ricocheting in my chest. There was finally sound, but the last thing I wanted to hear was a cliche horror movie soundtrack. Gulping, I looked around. The music was coming from the trees, and my stomach dropped when I spied a shadow behind one of them. Then another. And another. They emerged into the crimson moonlight, and my blood turned to ice.
Clowns.
I whipped around, trembling to the rhythm of my frantic pulse. They were surrounding me. Dozens of them. As classic as any clown could be. Colorful clothes, big shoes, silly hair, exaggerated makeup. I wasn't scared of clowns, as long as they were where they belonged. And they didn't belong here, staring at me with big, empty eyes and yellow, toothy grins.
I tried to convince myself that they weren't dangerous since they didn't have weapons and didn't seem monstrous, but when they took a step closer in unison, I jumped back, nearly falling into the pond. The ducks remained oblivious, still swimming in their circle. The distorted circus music got louder, and my hair stood on end when I saw the grass ripple in front of each clown. They were sending something my way through the ground.
Panicking, I jumped into the pond, and I screamed as I sank right in. There was no bottom. There was no water either. The pond was filled with red, translucent spheres, each the size of a tennis ball. Still able to breathe, I began swimming through the spheres with clumsy breast strokes, just hoping I could end up as far away from the clowns as possible.
After swimming for what felt like enough time, I tried to swim up, until I realized I had no idea which direction I was facing. Remember a trick for those stuck in avalanches, I spat, but my glob of saliva just hovered in front of me. Before panic could set in, I noticed what looked like an office desk floating amidst the spheres in the distance. After blinking a few times to make sure it was really there, I swam towards it, desperate for any change in my situation.
It was an office desk, a wooden one with carved borders and locked drawers. Tucked beneath it was a stool, and the moment I pulled it out and set it under my ass, an office replaced the red spheres.
I grunted as gravity returned, and I looked around in bewilderment at the cluttered bookshelves and grimy floors. Dust was floating everywhere, highlighted by the red light filtering in through the blinds behind me. I jumped as a clock hanging on the wall chimed. Its glass was too dirty for me to tell the time, but I was glad I could hear. I coughed at the dust. And I could make noise. I dusted my hands. And I could feel. I could even smell, which I now wished I couldn't as I wrinkled my nose at the faint stench of rot.
After failing to read the spines of some of the books on the shelves, I studied the shadowy corners of the room. A slack-jawed skeleton hung in the far end, and a faded poster with anatomical diagrams curled off a cupboard. This had to be a doctor's office. Was the creator of this dream a doctor?
A silhouette slid in front of the frosted glass door, and I gulped as the knob began to turn. A hand reached in, gripping the edge one finger at a time, and my heart dropped as I knew this horror cliche was only going to be followed by another. Having no time to think, I slid off the stool and crouched beneath the desk, my hand over my mouth as cobwebs clung to me.
Praying spiders wouldn't swarm me, I peeked through a small slit in the wood, and I froze when an emaciated nurse walked in the room. Layers upon layers of blood coated her scrubs, so much so that I couldn't even tell what color they originally were. She had no shoes. No feet either. Just ankle stubs, and my stomach turned as I heard bone clunk against the tiles.
A surgical mask covered her face, as bloodstained as her scrubs, and grimy lab goggles obscured her eyes. I was grateful, because judging by the pus leaking out of her scabbed, balding scalp, I didn't want to know what her face looked like. The closer she got, the stronger the stench of rot became, and I struggled to keep myself from retching.
She stopped halfway into the room, and I gawked at her hands. They were transforming. Her fingers elongating into razor-edged blades. She then began to hunch over, and I cringed as her spine cracked and popped until she was as bent as a candy cane, her face staring at her pelvis.
As if that wasn't unsettling enough, her head creaked as it spun around 180 degrees, now facing the front, upside down. Right after, her arms shot to the ground, and I watched with increasing dread as she bent them at the elbows and wrists so they flanked her head like distorted T-Rex arms.
She spread her fingers out and took a few more steps towards me, and I held my breath, hoping she couldn't hear my rabid heart or smell my fear. Her ankle bones clicked and clacked against the tiles as she made her way around the desk, and I cowered as my frantic eyes searched for a weapon. I found none, but I did spy a brass button beside my head.
With her legs now an arms distance away, I had nothing to lose as I jammed my thumb into the button. The back of the desk flung open, and I scrambled to my feet and dashed out from my hiding place, screaming in response to the nurse screeching behind me. Bursting through the door, I held up my fists and began punching like a maniac in fearful anticipation of a horde of nurses swarming me.
Except I was no longer in a hospital. I was in an outdoor parking lot. Alone. And judging by the roiling red clouds, a storm was brewing. After a second to collect my bearings, I dove into the closest car, thankful it was unlocked. The moment I slammed the door shut, lightning blinded me as thunder cracked and the downpour began. Sighing in relief, I tried to shake away my adrenaline, but the bloodshot eyes in my rearview mirror reignited my panic.
Before I could react, a belt snapped over my neck, pinning my head back against the headrest. With a frightened wheeze, I clawed at the leather, and I flinched as hot, heavy breath wafted across my ear. Gagging at the putrid smell, I reached over, desperate to scratch my strangler's face or poke their eyes out.
I felt their greasy hair and tried to pull it, but my fingers refused to hold on. I tried again and again, using my nails for purchase, but the strands just kept slipping out of my weak grip. Shifting focus, I tried to claw at their eyes, but it felt as though I was moving through molasses as my hand slid down their face. Once I felt a wet, bulbous eye, I tried to scratch it, but I didn't have enough strength to do anything damage.
My frustration clashed with my terror and I tried to punch them, but my arm swung back in slow motion and merely prodded a stubbly cheek. Tears welled in my eyes as I writhed and gasped, my strangler's laugh adding insult to injury. Despite knowing death will set me free, fear and self-preservation rummaged through my mind, searching for a solution. And they found one.
Hoping I had enough grip and energy, I reached down and found the reclining lever. Wrapping my fingers around it tight, I jerked it up and heaved my body back, and I gulped in a deep breath as I fell backwards, the belt now slack. Not at all prepared to face my attacker, I slipped out from beneath the belt, flung open the door, and zoomed out into the storm.
Sheets of rain obscured my vision, but not enough for me to see that the keys were left inside a red convertible. After making sure no one was hiding in the back, I jumped in, started the engine, and took off, the wheels squealing through the puddles. A sole street curled down a hill, and I took it, adrenaline pumping in waves through my quivering body.
This rush was a confusing mixture of exhilaration and apprehension. I wanted out, but I wasn't giving up. I made it this far, and I was going to survive every cliche this masochist dreamed up. Sharks? Snakes? Zombies? Bring it on. And afterwards, I was going to detail every single trial and tribulation I went through as I sued the dream bank for all the trauma they caused me.
Up ahead, the road curved, and I gasped as it ended in a cliff. I slammed the breaks, but they didn't do anything. Breaking out in a cold sweat, I slammed them again and again as I yanked the hand break as far as it would go. The car refused to slow down, and I cursed myself for not anticipating this cliche. In a move of desperation, I swerved, but it wasn't enough as the car careened over the edge and took me with it.
My heart hung in my throat as I hung on to the steering wheel, my knuckles white, my screams frozen in my lungs, the raindrops like needles. An endless body of water spread below me, and I knew sharks were my next challenge. I screwed my eyes shut as I awaited the inevitable plunge …
… and I gasped as the car crashed against the surface.
I lurched forward, and I cried out as I bashed my forehead against the wheel. Groaning, I leaned back, my ears ringing as I looked around, disoriented. I was still in the convertible, but we were right side up, having crashed into the concrete wall of an indoor garage. Blood trickled down my face and I reached up, only to feel around my head in shock.
I was wearing the helmet.
Why was it in the dream?
Or had I made it out?
I looked down. I wasn't naked. My pyjamas were plastered to my sweat-soaked skin. I was out. I looked around at the broken glass and mangled metal in confusion. But if I was finally out, why was I in a car and not between silk sheets?
I removed the helmet, and a yell from behind made me jump. I turned to see one of the dream techs running towards me. Was she always that skinny? And why were her scrubs red instead of the usual blue?
She made it to me, panting as she took the helmet out of my hands, and I wrinkled my nose at her unpleasant breath. She said I'd had a nightmare and began sleepwalking, and I'd left the dream bank and stole a car from their underground parking before she triggered a wake-up signal in the helmet, which made me crash.
I stared at her, not believing what I was hearing. I told her I'd booked a projection, not a recording, and she gave me a concerned frown and claimed the opposite. Anger replaced my confusion, and I called her a liar and accused them of misconduct, and she reminded me that dreams can only be unlocked by the dreamer.
Furious, I cursed at her as I tried to get out of the car, demanding to see my file. She was quick to tell me not to move in case I made my injuries worse as she pulled out her phone and said she was going to call an ambulance.
While I sat there and waited, fuming, I glimpsed my reflection in the dangling rearview mirror. Unease rippled beneath my skin and I sat up, grabbing the mirror and angling it to show my neck.
There was an angry red mark across it.
As though I was recently strangled.
Trembling, I tilted the mirror up.
Cobwebs. Stuck in my hair.
Dumbstruck in utter stupefaction, I scanned the rest of my body. My pyjamas were dirty and there was black under my fingernails, but the rest of my examination was cut short by tinny circus music. A chill jolted down my spine and I whipped my head to face the dream tech. That was her ringtone. She smiled as she answered the call, and I drew back at her yellow, toothy grin.
What was going on? I was out of the dream, I knew I was. Had everything been real? What had the dream bank done with me? Done to me?
Ambulance sirens wailed as they entered the underground parking, and the flashing red lights reflecting off the walls triggered my recent traumas. With terror-fueled adrenaline flooding my veins, I jerked my legs free of the wreck, jumped out of the car, and booked it, the dream tech's yells merging with the screeching sirens behind me.
SR

What can/can’t a landlord include in a lease? Can they write in anything they want, and as long as I sign the lease, I agree to it? I thought law states that lessor is responsible for repair of appliances if the lessee is not at fault. This dryer was squeaking when I moved in last year. But can a landlord waive the responsibility to repair it by writing it in the lease?
I read the lease going in, and this kinda felt like a red flag, but everything else about the apartment was fine to me and it’s affordable. I didn’t expect the dryer to give out if I just took care of it and didn’t overfill it.

All I ever wanted was for my wife and I to live comfortably. But the longer we stayed together, the higher our bills increased. We’d already fought off debts from college, barely scraping by. Even after we paid them off, we were only able to afford a tiny apartment on the outskirts of New York City.
Sidewalks laid cracked everywhere while condemned buildings sat sadly against their crooked foundations. Crooked lampposts would hang only by electrical wires. Graffiti marked every street corner in bland art that existed without rhyme or reason. Homeless people could be found on every street corner, a constant reminder of what would happen if my wife and I failed to keep up with our payments.
However, I managed to make somewhat decent money as a plumber. But even then, it sometimes wasn’t enough to deal with loan sharks, the hefty utility bills, food prices, and gas money. I was willing to do anything to get us out.
And that is where I encountered gambling. I was willing to take the risks. I’d take any chance to obtain a reward, even just a small one. It started out with just a handful of poker games. Then I moved on to scratch tickets and slot machines. All I needed was enough to get by. Unfortunately, obtaining a payday from the casinos was impossible. I started growing desperate, which only led to more debt. The whole cycle sucked me down like Odysseus’ ship in Charybdis’ maw. And just like that, my relationship with my wife began to tear us apart.
My wife and I were once so close together. Before we married, there would be days where we’d work together at wood shops, creating 3D prints of various sci-fi characters and video games. Other times we’d study the components of circuits and use them to create elaborate lighting displays whenever Christmas arrived. Our wedding day was supposed to be the greatest day of our lives. Instead of relying on the help of others back like we did in college, we relied on ourselves.
But my actions tore all that apart. I didn’t know what else to do, either.
—
A few nights ago, I arrived at my shitty apartment, having completed a ten hour shift fixing the drains of several upper class folks. I rested my hand on the knob, expecting the worst from my wife. Sighing, I pushed the door. The moment I did, she was already in the front hall. Her eyes were scrunched and she was holding a bank statement, smacking it for emphasis.
“Care for an explanation?” She demanded.
I rubbed my temples, removing my scum covered overalls and plopping them right into the nearest laundry hamper. We locked eyes. Breaking eye contact with her would only ignite her anger further. She was holding another piece of evidence of my failures. My failure to strike it rich. All I could do was stand there sheepishly, tail tucked behind me, and wait to get ripped a new one. No words could come out of my mouth.
She marched up to me, holding it in my face. “Frank, you wasted three-thousand dollars at the casino AGAIN?!” my wife bellowed.
I set my tool box down and washed the pipe gunk from my hands, looking down just for a bit.
“Turn around and look me in the eyes.”
Resting a hand on my eyes, I glanced over at her petite frame. Then, I began to speak. “We can live comfortably if you just give-“
“Enough of the excuses! We nearly lost our apartment twice by you betting on slots, you wasted our heating money on roulette, and now this!”
I held up my hands reassuringly. “Look, just let me figure this out! I’ll think of some way to get the money!”
“You’d better. Otherwise we’re getting a divorce. Got it?”
Without another word, I put on a casual outfit, exiting for some fresh air. Shutting the door behind me, I gazed back at the unpolished apartment number on the frame. Wincing, I clenched a fist and descended the rickety stairs. Eventually, my boots hit the cracked pavement, and I headed off.
---
I had only made it a few blocks from my apartment, when I noticed shadows lurking in one of the alleyways. Picking up my stride, I try to evade the figures. They drew closer and closer. My stride changed into a sprint. Another alleyway comes into my sights. I make a break for it, hoping for an opportunity to escape. Only a dead end greets me. Before long, the figures cornered me. The light from a street lamp illuminated two shady faces. Loan sharks. Before I could react, the duo held me up by my throat.
“What the hell are you guys doing?!” I strained, feebly kicking back one of the thugs. He jammed a fist right under my rib cage. My lips pursed as I lost my breath. The other grabbed me by the chin, grinning like a maniac and revealing his tobacco rotted jaw. I gulped.
“Frank, calm down. Take it easy,” every word he said ground my inner ears. Brown saliva sprayed on my cheeks. “We just want to have a little talk…” I didn’t have the courage to speak up. All I could do was let them tell me everything.
“Your landlord is getting rather impatient with your payments. We just came to send a little message. He has some demands.” The other guy snarled.
I tugged on my collar. “What…demands?”
“The landlord wants you to cough up $18,000 for your next payment!”
My hands grew clammy. Were they out of their minds? I was a plumber, not a heart surgeon! I didn’t have that kind of money! Besides, the rent was only $500 a month.
“You have until the end of the month,” one of the goons croaked.
That was only two weeks! I couldn’t have made that kind of money with such constraints! I’d barely be able to afford food and electricity! Negotiating was out of the question. God knows what would have happened to me if I dared speak up.
“The landlord has given you chance after chance to pay up. But you’ve never followed through. He’s let it slide for three months. You haven’t paid shit in that time frame. Do you realize how much he has to pay for his own apartment? If you fail to pay at that time, there will be consequences…” He makes a capiche gesture.
I nodded. The moment I complied, they released me, disappearing into the smog.
—
I stood outside a graffiti covered subway station, pacing around, hands in my pockets. My fists constricted as I pounded a nearby wall. There’s no way I would have been able to make that kind of money! Craps were too unpredictable, arcade machines were always rigged, and roulette was too high in stakes. Seeing red, I screamed and kicked a wall as hard as I could. My foot throbbed and once I was done with my fit, I broke down sobbing. The sidewalk darkened with my tears. I pressed my head against it, clawing at it until my fingernails turned crimson.
Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Wiping the tears away, I glanced over my shoulder. A card was lying on the floor. Its borders were covered in green dollar symbols. The rest of the card was a silver color shiny enough to reflect my face in it. Written in gold letters were the following:
ACES HIGH CASINO
WIN ONE ROUND OF BLACKJACK
AND EARN FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS!
NO MONETARY WAGER NEEDED
TABLE 777
My eyes lit up. All I had to do was win one game of blackjack, and I’d be rich? Dimples formed on my cheeks and I pumped my fist. I nearly clicked my heels in joy, but decided against it. I’d already caused enough of a scene already, and I wanted to make sure nobody knew my secret. When I flipped it around, it had an address also written in golden letters.
---
Despite the address being in an unknown area, I still managed to pull it up on my phone’s map and arrived without any struggle. The casino itself was a pigsty, to say the least. Smokers polluted the air in the prison gray interior. Slot machines with broken lights clicked and whirred while cheap dice clattered against tables with peeling felt. Meanwhile, the concrete floor was covered in colonies of roaches while neglected beer bottles sat against the rungs of several tables. The only thing that was kept well was the bar and a room draped with navy blue curtains with golden sashes. Emblazoned above the doorway was the number 777.
This was the first time I had entered a casino smiling. For once, I thought that this was my lucky night.
When I pushed the curtains away, they revealed a room with ornate black wallpaper, an assortment of oak desks and other furniture. The walls were covered in fine Baroque paintings. On the floor was a single blue carpet covered in opulent tapestry. I followed the back wall to a single dealer table coated in green felt. Two seats were present with one patron taking the seat on the left. He was shaking with what I assumed was excitement.
Behind him was the dealer, a trim man with long blond hair and a top hat over his nose and eyes. He wore a dapper tuxedo free of blemishes that shimmered in the light of a single hanging glass lamp. His skin was pure and free of moles, glistening with slight amounts of glitter.
“Why, hello there…” The man spoke in a voice slicker than the gel in his hair. “Are you here to win big?” Unlike the loan sharks, his teeth were cleaner than a freshly washed plate.
“Yup. Deal me in.” I said, straightening my back, shuffling into the last seat. The other player had his jaw locked together. His eyes were drooping and bloodshot. Sweat pooled around his brow like glass beads. Just like him, I always felt nervous about losing, so their reaction was understandable.
“You know the rules of blackjack. I deal out cards. You can say ‘hit me’ if you want more cards. Get closest to twenty one without going over. Dealer only draws two cards. And you can also surrender your cards for half your bet. When you don’t want any more cards, say the word ‘stand.’” The dealer said, shuffling the cards through his hands and manipulating them like a sculptor with a ceramic pot.
I double blinked. Wager? “What do I bet with?”
The mysterious man just focused on passing out his cards. First, he brought out two cards for himself and dealt two more to each player. Instantly, he flipped over his cards. A jack and a king. Twenty.
I clutched the velvet backed cards, seeing what I was dealt.
A ten and a seven of hearts. I forced my face into a neutral smile. My stomach twisted. There was no way I could get twenty one that easily. “Surrender,” I said, pushing my cards to the dealer. All he did was reshuffle the cards and toss me two more. They didn’t even bother looking back up at me during the process.
The other player started clutching his stomach. My smile vanished. I carefully looked over the left guy’s cards. A seven and a two of clubs.
“Hit me…” the guy on the left choked out. An ace of spades. A total of ten. Sweat trickled down his head like a shower in April. His eyes welled up with tears while foam developed around his mouth. I raised a brow, wondering what his deal was.
I knew the stakes of gambling, but my sixth sense kept telling me something was just not right. No. That couldn’t be true. Even if there was some kind of string attached or fine print I didn’t read, I couldn’t risk giving up that money. Besides, this might have been my only chance to obtain such a vast award without much risk.
“Hit me…” The man wheezed. A five of hearts. His teeth chattered.
While I waited for my turn, I stood up and walked around the room, getting a closer look at all the ornate gadgets and such. My eyes focused on a painting on the leftmost wall. It resembled a man in rich military regalia. But something made my hair stand on end. Their upturned white mustache looked damp, and their face sagged like they were crying. Linear, stick-like shadows were cast on the sleeves. Edging forward, they came into focus.
Hands. I followed their forms outward, which extended into oily, dripping arms.
“Husssssssssh…” A faint noise echoed from somewhere in the room.
“What?” I mouthed, turning an ear to the source.
“Husssssssssh…” It came from the painting. I backed away, hands out at my sides. Was someone dragged in that painting?
“Where are you going? You forgot to pay up!” The dealer yelled back, hands slamming on the table and pulling out a sack of navy blue poker chips.
I double took. “I thought the card said there was no monetary wager needed?”
“There isn’t.”
Then, I looked at the ground. There was a second rug on the ground. The tapestry matched, but its patterns didn’t match with the other rug. It was off center from the rest of the decorations, like someone didn’t even bother setting it up properly. Taking a closer look, I could hear faint whispers coming from it, too. When I looked back up, the guy on the left was gone. I rushed over, checking his cards. A total of twenty five.
Swallowing saliva, I stood in confusion, wondering what to do next. I scraped my fingernails against my palms. I needed that money. If I didn’t get it, I’d lose my wife and my apartment. And what about the loan sharks? Only God knew what would happen to me if I didn’t pay up. What was I going to do? What would happen if I lost? Would I turn into another object just like the other guy? Or would I be in for a worse fate?
“That’s because there isn’t a MONETARY wager. I’m still taking half of what you owe.”
A sharp pain punched my left side. My left side felt heavier than before, like my veins were replaced with tungsten. I grabbed my fingers around my chest. The area around the pain almost felt solid like a tumor. Brushing around the area, I could make out a cylindrical mass. I tried to inspect it some more, but the pain overwhelmed me, and I crumpled to the ground.
I crouched down on all fours, trying to get back to my seat, but the pain froze me in place. Reaching out a hand, I called out for help. Nothing.
Slithering away, I pulled back the curtains to the entrance of the casino. I spat on the ground from the bludgeoning pain.
“Don’t feel out of luck. You can still surrender once more and you still have two chances left!” The dealer smiled, adjusting his hat. It was only a glimpse, but I caught a look at his upper face. His eyes were on his hat and his forehead was blank. The dealer looked like they were plucked straight out of an Alice in Wonderland book. What or who was this dealer?
“Think long and hard about this. I saw you arguing with your wife. And those ruffians nearly killed you.”
I clambered back to my seat. I still didn’t know what that dealer did to me. Something in me forced me to get back up and keep playing. More questions ate at me the longer I played. How did he know that information?
Then, I remembered feeling a tap back at Grand Central Station. And the card that brought me here. He couldn’t have been human. Was he some kind of demon? I didn’t bother asking. There wasn’t any way he would spill the beans about his nature.
After what seemed like hours, I managed to writhe back into my seat, slumping over the table like I’d just had the worst hangover.
“Ready to try again?” The charming man said, resting his chin on his interlocked hands.
Reluctantly, I gave him a thumbs up. He took back the cards and began manipulating the split deck once more. I analyzed every move he made. None of the cards were tricked. He wasn’t second dealing and didn’t have any aces up his sleeve. Never revealed anything under the table, either. The only thing that brought me reassurance was that he was honest. Still, keeping an eye out was critical.
The dealer revealed his cards. Two tens again. One of spades, one of hearts. His face was harder than diamond and glowed like one, too. Not a pleasing glow, but one that would hex anyone that dared gaze at it for too long.
I looked at my cards. An ace and a seven. Eighteen. Gripping my lower abdomen, I stayed crumpled in agony. The odds of getting a blackjack were slim and the stabbing pain skewed my thoughts.
“Surrender…” I wheezed. The words slipped out of my mouth like the dying breath of a wounded soldier. The dealer smiled, holding a pile of blue poker chips around him. He waved his hand over the mound and made an inaudible chant. Then, they vanished.
I held my hands over my face, bracing myself. Suddenly, the pain doubled, shifting to my right like a mudslide down a hill. Now I knew everything the previous player was going through.
I vomited out something hard and blue. A poker chip. Suddenly, my guts turned and another seven spilled out. My esophagus wound itself into knots more contorted than cobwebs. “I…forfeit!”
The man started to smile. “Without these?” With a thud, the hat faced dealer pulled out a jar filled with a kidney and a piece of liver. They still were oozing with blood that plumed and fit their containers. I remembered how the dealer said that there was no monetary wager. He never said there wasn’t a wager at all. My wager…was my organs.
“You want them back? Win them.” He set them back on the ground.
Now there was no choice. My fate was sealed if I tried to leave. I started to shed tears. If I didn’t get these organs back and fast, I was done for. Even if someone saw me passed out on the floor, finding donors for organs wasn’t guaranteed. And even then, I’d be put further in debt. Nothing would be solved. Then again, was trying to beat this guy even worth it? No. The reward was too great. Taking a few deep breaths, I sat back down. Reluctantly, I asked that he proceed.
The dealer drew out cards just like before. He took the cards and gave them a good shuffle. Plucking two cards out of the stack, he revealed them. A king and a nine. Another poker chip tumbled out my throat. I spat it out in a red and blue plastic heap. Not paying attention to the mess I made, he handed me two cards. A jack and a two. Twelve.
“Hit…me.” An ace. Aces could count as one or eleven depending on what other cards were drawn. I still had a fighting chance.
“Hit me.” A five.
His dead stare tore at my soul. I scratched against the felt, the wounds in my fingers reopening. From the corner of my eyes, I could see him frowning. “Are you going to play, or do you want all that money to go to waste?”
I gritted my teeth. “Shut up…Hit me…” Swallowing saliva, I watched the dealer play out my last card. A queen.
“You lose.” The dealer said coldly, grabbing a pile of poker chips and holding them close. He waved his hand over the mound and made another incantation. Then, they vanished once more. Everywhere at once, burning pain sears my skin, making me blackout.
---
When I wake up and feel my arms, they are covered in something hard, blue and plastic. My clothes were gone. I examined my extremities and my torso.
My skin was missing and replaced with poker chips. They were shaped to fit every part of my body. Cracks filled with blood gushed out with each slight movement I made. Horrified, I spilled my guts. More poker chips slid out my throat. Piles of skin laid clumped on the side of the table in hideous pink and blood red sheets.
“I think you know what’s at stake now. One try left. Better make it count. You want to end up in an object for an eternity?” He taunted.
The rigidity of my plastic coated skin made each movement expose more of the cracks, searing my muscles. I groaned as I raised myself up. Crimson liquid dampened the table. I pounded at the table. This was it. I either walked out with my money and saved my marriage and tied up all those knots. Or I lost and suffered a fate worse than death. Giving up was not an option. I gave the mysterious man a death glare, not even bothered by his resistance.
He plucks out two cards. A nine and a ten. This was my chance.
Then, my cards were revealed. A ten and a two. Fingers rattling, I took a deep breath and let calmness seep into me.
“Hit…Me…” I sputtered. Another two.
Huffing, I opened my mouth to speak again. The dealer just stared into me, tilting his head like a vulture waiting for roadkill. The poker chips rattled again, grinding against each other.
“Hit…” I paused for a moment, recollecting my thoughts. At a value of fourteen, I needed at least a six to beat the dealer. But an eight or higher would result in disaster. Gulping down another chaser of saliva, I spoke. “Hit…me.”
To my chagrin, a five slipped out of the hand. I was now tied. Staring at the pile of skin and my other organs, I closed my eyes and shook in horror. An ace or a two were the only cards I could draw in order to win. I looked down at my cards, sweat dripping on the table. With a quick glance, I gazed at the eyes on the man’s silk hat.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” The man demanded.
I’d begun hyperventilating. His stare grew more intense the longer I waited. His confident smile turned into a frown of irritation. Eyebrows and mouth twisted into a hideous snarl. He rattled his fingers against the dealing table. The cacophony made my ears go numb.
Then, I whispered my answer.
“Hit…me…”
The man darted up, smiling back in anticipation. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
I closed my eyes, expecting the worst.
“HIT ME!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Then, the last card was revealed:
A two.
I’d won!
My mouth dropped. The sheets of skin unfurled themselves and flattened over me. Two organ jars spilled over, their contents rising in a beam of white and torpedoing back into my body. Immediately, I yelped at the top of my lungs, skipping my heels and doing a jig. I regained my strength, instantly looking around for traces of my prize. For several minutes, I wasn’t able to uncover anything. Staring directly at the dealer’s face, I asked him to reveal my prize.
“I don’t have it with me.” He said, blankly.
Not listening, I scrutinized every inch of the room, looking behind his station, checking under the table, everything.
I searched everywhere for my prize, my happiness dissipating. With each step I took, my smile faded even further, twisting into a frown. My nose crinkled. “Where is the fifty million?” I demanded, overturning the table, ripping off the ornate paintings and yanking the tasseled rugs off the floor. “You promised me fifty million dollars if I beat you! Do you realize what’s gonna happen to me if I don’t get that money, you charlatan?!”
The strange man just stood there, not even acknowledging my pleas.
“YOU PROMISED ME MONEY! You’re a thief!” I roared, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I only did this for my wife, to save my marriage! I almost gave up my life trying to help my family out! How can you take that away from me?!”
The demon stuck his hands behind his back and shook his head. He rolled his eyes back in thought. Something was up with him. “You aren’t like the other gamblers.” He said.
“Other gamblers?” I said, stepping back.
“They all wanted the money for worthless things. A mansion with fountains and a view, hookers, a trip to Tahiti…” He paced around me. His face was rather relaxed and calm. Never once did he lose eye contact with me. “But you had so much determination to help your wife out that you would risk it all. I admire that. It took me a while to figure out that you were actually a kind hearted person.”
I saw red and tried to punch him. He grabbed my fist, shoving it back.
“Listen to me. I understand your rage. There never was a prize in the first place. It was nothing but a lure to capture those that wasted their lives away. But there is one thing that you don’t understand.”
I saw red and I thrusted my hands back. “You nearly killed me all for nothing?!”
“Yes, but that was before I saw you the way you really were. Listen to my words.”
Slowly, I relaxed my posture, but still remained firm. “Why should I listen to you?”
“I can help you out of your situation.” The man said.
My nostrils flared. “You owe me money you snake!”
“You never needed the money in the first place.”
Taken aback, I retreated. “What do you mean?” My arms relaxed once more.
“You are a plumber, aren’t you? I saw you come home from work, just barely catching a glimpse of your schedule. Forty hours a week for thirty-eight dollars an hour for five days a week. That’s $15200 a week for two weeks. You already have everything you need.”
“But you don’t understand. They need $18000!” I pleaded.
He wouldn’t budge. “Trying to earn this money via dumb risks and chances will not get you anywhere. Look at all the things that you’ve done wrong.”
Tears began to well up. “And I want to change that.” I wiped my eyes. “But what am I supposed to do now?”
“The only way you can earn that money is through grit and spit,” He said, walking around me. “You aren’t going to find solace through good luck alone. You have to work for it. And you already have the tools that some people don’t have. If you give up now, you might as well have lost. Think about it.” With those last words, he raised his hand and snapped it, disappearing without a trace. Slowly, I gathered my things and walked out of the casino, head hanging low.
---
The following day, I sat outside an old woman’s faucet, inspecting how to fix a leak. I wondered what the demon’s words meant to me. Before I stuck the wrench up to a U trap, I remembered my pay. If I worked the same amount of hours as before, I’d only make $15200. But if I pulled off some overtime and worked several extra hours, I might just be able to pay off my debts.
I started staying up much later than before. Not long after, my wife started to become suspicious. Eventually, she confronted me.
“Frank, you’ve been staying up late. Are you going back to the casinos again?” she asked, hands on her hips.
I closed my eyes. Instead of fear, calmness filled my veins and my blood stilled. “Not this time. I’ve been working overtime.”
Her face loosened up for just a moment before hardening back up. I held my hands up and motioned my palms downward. “Listen, I have been horrible lately. All my gambling did was drown us in deeper debt.”
Her expression began to soften up again, her frown vanishing.
“I want to change things. We used to work so well together, doing everything to help each other. Instead of fighting against each other, it’s time we made peace. And we bring us out of our debt, together.” I held out my hand for her to shake it. She kept her arm pulled back and folded like the pincer of a mantis. Inch by inch, she extended it and took it.
The following day, my wife convinced me to go to therapy to get out of my addiction, which I gladly obliged. Simultaneously, she decided to start up another job working as an electrician. Day by day passed and we pooled all our resources as one. Before our eyes, bills were paid and debt disappeared faster than eye floaters. Our financial status wasn’t the only thing that changed. Her once crusty mood lightened up and she began to smile more. She began to believe my words and began to respect the changes I made.
And then, we paid off our rent. We got a letter from our landlord, saying that we now were even. The moment that letter came in, we embraced each other. The only question now was, what were we going to do with this extra money?
Not too long ago, we ended up earning enough money to create another 3d project, this time of a Companion Cube. Day after day, we created more projects. Although we weren’t as happy as our days back in college, we still could make the best with what we had. In retrospect, the hat-faced man put up a good fight, but I managed to come out of a casino with more than I came in with. It wasn’t exactly money, but it wasn’t worthless, either.

I have a spare remote with broken wheel knob for sale. Anyone interested ?
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https://www.ebay.pl/itm/234886465166

Adding this here to save the next person hours of research and trial and error. The drum on my Hotpoint 6.0 cu ft Dura Drum Electric Dryer (HTDX100ED6WW) stopped spinning and the issue was that the belt had broken. I went to replace it but of course the exact specifications for it do not appear in the owner’s manual or on the GE/Hotpoint page for the model I have (https://appliances.force.com/GEA/s/mya-qrlanding-page?language=en_US&K=HTDX100EDWW&M=HTDX100ED6WW&S=VF760794C&P=R). To order it from GE and get it in time would have been $60. The aftermarket replacements at Lowe’s were either too short or too long, and Home Depot doesn’t carry any at all. All I could find was this info online: the item number for the piece I needed was WE03X29897.
Eventually, I found the piece on Amazon and was able to install it without any issues. Here’s the link to the one that works: “WE03X29897 Dryer Drum Drive Belt...” https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09YLFKBGZ?ref=ppx_pop_mob_ap_share And here’s the YouTube video that I used to install it: https://youtu.be/ZXSJlWcZPiY
Good luck to everyone fixing their dryers!

I have had the great pleasure of living in some lovely homes. Gorgeous villas with floor to ceiling glass windows, swimming pools, and more finely cut marble than you can shake a pick at. Sadly, those days are long since gone, and I’ve mostly had the misfortune of being trapped in some less than stellar dwellings.
My last home had cracked windows to let in bitter winter air, but thick brick walls that trapped the heat of the summer. Far too many parts of the house sagged and bulged under the weight of water being where it shouldn’t. Every sink and bathtub was permanently streaked and stained from a generation of human filth and the mildew that grew in the humidity painted awful black splotches along the walls. The ceiling collapsed multiple times in different locations so you could see the rats glowering down at you at night. A broken sewage pipe filled the kitchen with smells of fecal drippage. An electric current ran through the shower knobs. It was a miserable abode that denied me the most basic of comfort and dignity and I hope that none of you ever find yourself living in such a place. House Flipper is a game about bridging the gap between the unlivable hovel I lived in and the houses I used to live in and I love it for that reason.
House Flipper has a very simple pitch. Fix up people’s houses, use the money from those jobs to buy property, then fix it up and sell that house for a profit, and repeat. You’ll clean up trash around properties, buy new furniture, and completely redesign rooms. All of this is done in first person and buy hand. It lands nicely between the the intensive labor of island design in animal crossing, and the frictionless creative fluidity of interior decoration in the Sims. Never so easy as to be click and drag, but never so time consuming that it becomes tedious.
More so than just being fun, I found the process of revitalizing derelict homes to be so nourishing for the soul. For client fix-up jobs, there is something very enriching about healing the spaces that people are going to live in. Old houses where families have loved, and grown, and cried, and said goodbye get a much deserved paying of respects through your work. New houses await your touch as you prepare them to be loved by incoming tenants. I have never been one to get overly invested in house design the games I’ve played, but the sheer creative freedom you have to completely transform the dis-repaired houses you buy got me making virtual living spaces for 2 hours straight some days.
I live in a new house now. The facade is cracked, and deep cracks run along the popcorn ceiling. The doors squeak and squeal at the slightest touch, and fail to fully close even when you turn the handles. There’s not a single quirk of this building that can’t be chalked up to wear, abuse, and neglect on the part of previous tenants. Moving from one crappy house to another really does weigh on my heart sometimes, but House Flipper has at least let me live the fantasy of living in a nice home again.

Hi everyone! My friend & I are looking for a 3rd roommate who can move in on August 1st . The third room available is the 10’- 2’ x 13’- 1’ master bedroom with your own private bathroom. The rent is $1,824.65 for that room. The building has:

⁃ a resident’s lounge that opens to a landscaped terrace ⁃ a rooftop featuring grills ⁃ a fitness center ⁃ virtual doorman ⁃ Wifi in all common spaces ⁃ a package room ⁃ bicycle storage ⁃ indoor parking ⁃ large storage units ⁃ Elevator ⁃ Pets allowed ⁃ Location- Astoria 

The apartment has:

⁃ 9’ ceilings ⁃ Samsung multi-zone heating/cooling ⁃ washer & dryer in unit ⁃ triple-paned windows w/ tilt capability ⁃ beautiful kitchen with GE stove and refrigerator & Samsung microwave, The bathrooms has a 24" vanity & LED mirror 

Please feel free to ask us any questions about the rent, building, & apartment in general.

So I had ordered a washer and dryer from Best Buy in January and it was supposed to be delivered and installed (have total tech) in a couple weeks but it got delayed several times because of inventory issues.
In March they finally came but guy couldn’t install it cause they didn’t have all the parts so we rescheduled. Understandable, I didn’t know what I needed so fine.
2 weeks later they come again and leave because washer and dryer won’t “fit up the stairwell.”
Asked Best Buy for another team and this time the guy is good and brought it up stairwell and installed washer but couldn’t install dryer because it’s drum was broken so he said to have Best Buy send another.
Fourth team comes with dryer and refuses to install it because vent is in ceiling instead of the side walls. I told them then take it back and I’ll order from somewhere else. He said he couldn’t or they would have to charge me extra because no one told them to return it. Basically I couldn’t refuse so they put it in my garage and told me I’d have to pay someone else to install it because it was unsafe… my unit is new construction and builder confirmed it’s up to code and neighbors had no issue.
Fast forward to today. Best Buy would not send another installer and now I’m stuck paying an extra 225 on top of the 199 spent for total tech to have someone else to bring it upstairs and install.
Really, all around terrible experience and not sure how people are allowed to unilaterally break a contract and still force you to pay.
This whole third party system of avoiding responsibility is awful for the consumer. All I can do is vent on Reddit and nothing will ever change.

I have a whirlpool thin twin stacker. The dryer just kinda died. The washer works and works well. I’ve changed fuses, the door latch and the dryer timer. Had repair man look at it and he said it was probably the dryer timer. He didn’t mention any other possibilities like the heating element or anything but I’m wondering if that’s it. This is a last ditch effort before I get rid of it. It’s been broken for longer that I had it fully functional.

A tripod head that I purchased from Aliexpress for $54 that has a counterbalance and is a fluid head allowing pans and tilts, what could go wrong? Well even though it can pan and tilt the drawbacks are:

1. You have to balance literally everything on the fluid head: The handle, the tripod plate, the camera's position on the tripod plate, and utilizing the proper counter balance then adjusting the drag on the right knob; making sure too there is not too much drag on it.
2. There is a weight requirement: at least 3-4 pounds has to be on the front end of the tripod, otherwise the tripod pushes the movement forward or backward, and at the same time it has a weight limit of 8-12 pounds.
3. It only gives smooth fluid movement at 85 degrees front and 75 degrees back for tilting.
4. Movement is slighty jerky or stiff but is usable once everything is situated with the tripod head and it's balance, which may take a while.
5. Takes a long time to get it properly balanced and may take practice.
6. Fluid head can break (from appearance after since messing with the lock settings with the counterbalance one. Counterbalance is left, lock is right. Do not mess with the lock settings to get a coutnerbalance. Fortunately mine is still working and I have not broken it)
7. Before using it after a while, you may need to give it some friction, or you may need to lock it with the right knob first before leaving it alone, and then after a while unlock it.
8. Sometimes confuses the user in the result of the footage

Now apart from all of that, you get a neat fluid head that allows you to practice for bigger name fluid heads or gear heads. A neat fluid head for its price. Had it been 200 dollars I would have given it 2.5 stars, but since it was only 54 dollars I'm giving it 3.5 stars. Quite a learning curve for this fluid head.

Hi, as the title says, my girlfriend and I are supposed to move in together, but I feel like we have unresolved issues and moving in together won’t fix them, or at least most of them. I guess I should start at the start, and I’ll try not to make things too one sided, as I know most people are inclined to agree with the author of the post as it’s from their point-of-view, so don’t be afraid to push back on everything I have written, I am writing to get peoples opinions, be them agreeing with me or not agreeing with me. Also, sorry about all the text, I sometimes ramble, so each section has a TL/DR if you like.
I’ll start from the start, my girlfriend (who I’ll name Christine here) and I have been together for two years come September. I love her very much and I know she loves me. We met online (as ya do these days) and I was instantly attracted to how warm and thoughtful she was. Christine seemed to take an interest in what I might be interested in and put in the effort to plan dates around these things. She lives in an apartment with her sister, and is more central to town, where as I live in the suburbs, about a 15-20 minute drive away from her, although sometimes more in rush hour. She is very emotional, which is a pretty big contrast compared to my last ex, who either bottled things in or was more suppressed, whereas my current girlfriend will tell me how she is feeling from one hour to next it seems.
A little background on me prior to this relationship, TL/DR at the bottom of this paragraph:
I moved to this town about 6 years ago with my ex (who I’ll call Meg here), and at the time I bought a house when I moved here. Meg was never on the mortgage and I paid for most of the large house expenses, although we did split some of the other bills, like internet, heating, and small house renovations. In that time the company I was supposed to start work with laid off the entire team before my contract started, basically leaving me jobless and with a mortgage. I was quite stressed for a little bit, but was able to set up freelance and full-time work 4 months later. In that time I also started working on projects for myself, and one of them went well and I have been able to work full-time for myself for the past 4 and a half years. This basically makes me my own boss with my own hours, although I do like to keep a regular 9-5 Monday to Friday work schedule. Although I sometimes start later and work later, and on crunch weeks can pull pretty long hours (12 hour days including weekends), but I’ve gotten better with that for the most part. To make a long story short here, Meg and I got engaged after 5 years being together, but we broke up and she left me. In that time we adopted 5 pets, two dogs and 3 cats, she took 2 of the cats and I kept the other animals, leaving me with the house, two dogs, and 1 cat, which is still my current situation. I love my dogs very much and I treat them like my children, but they can be a lot sometimes. They’re a very needy breed, although they keep each other company which is nice. I paid Meg a lump-sum of money at the time to avoid any legal complications, and the statute of limitations has run out if she wanted to try to take more money for the house. Meg ended up getting married to someone 3 months after we broke up, and as far as I know they’re still together, but I have no contact with her, nor do I ever go on social media to see. I’m not huge on using social media, since I use it for my job, I really don’t like using it too much for me personally, although I do like to look at TV clips from shows I like on Instagram haha.
TL/DR for my background: Was in a relationship, bought a house, relationship broke up, I kept 2 dogs and 1 of the cats and was able to keep the house. I work for myself after losing my job, but still work a relatively normal work schedule that is somewhat flexible.
Now that there’s a little bit of background I should get into the meat and potatoes. Christine and I have been having communication issues, which I feel have become more prominent with the planned dates of moving into together. I feel like a lot of these issues have come up in the past, and we talked about them, but some of them are recurring, and I fear moving in together will not be a good way to solve most of them.
Issue 1: The house and how my girlfriend feels about it
It’s a pretty simple house in a quiet neighbourhood, is only one floor and two bedrooms, but is a pretty good amount of space for two people, especially since there is an attached garage and backyard. One of the bedrooms is my office and the other is, well, the bedroom. I have a living room and kitchen, and my hallway has a large closet that houses the washer and dryer. I and my ex did renovate some things, and since she moved out I continued to change some stuff, but am pretty happy with my house, although still have some bigger projects, like a bathroom renovation that I’d like to do at some point. Most people who I first show my house to usually say things like it’s really cute or this place is sweet, things of that nature, although Christine hasn’t really complimented it much. At one point she asked me if I planned to stay in my house forever, and I responded that if that was the case it wouldn’t bother me. Although I don’t necessarily think I’ll be in this place forever, but if I was it wouldn’t upset me. Real-estate where I am is extremely expensive, and I feel fortunate that I was able to but something when I did, as it’s become nearly impossible for my generation to buy anything. While it could be possible for me to sell this place and put the money towards a new mortgage somewhere, that isn’t currently my intention, as I am pretty happy with me current living situation.
Christine has said in the past that she considers my contentment to be me settling, which upset me greatly as I really don’t consider how I live to be “settling”. She has said she in the past that she dislikes my house, and feels she is sacrificing a lot to move in here, and that I haven’t acknowledged this sacrifice enough. The things she’s most sad about leaving behind in her apartment is the more central location, her favourite coffee shops, the shorter commute to work, having her own bedroom that is just her own, and despite sometimes having issues with her sister, she’s gonna miss living with her, as they’ve been roommates for nearly 3 years. She has listed the things she dislikes about my place, but it’s largely more suburban location, and it isn’t clean enough to her liking – it isn’t dirty, but my dogs a pretty messy, so I have agreed to hire cleaners to do more deep cleans every month or so, while I continue to tidy things up in the way that I have been doing. She also the dislikes the direction my house faces and feels like it doesn’t get enough light, although she is often over during the evening, and I feel like my house gets quite a bit of light during the day, so much so I often need to draw the blinds when the sun hits certain areas.
She’s also implied that she feels uncomfortable moving in to my place because I have history with a past relationship in this house, which I can understand, and have agreed to move her bed into the house when she moves in, as living on the same bed as a past relationship would probably be too strange. She has also implied that other couples when they move in together usually move into a whole new space, as she always had a dream of one day buying and picking out her own house and she feels that if she moves in with me that I am taking away her dreams. Although I’ve tried to re-frame her thinking, as once she moves in we can redecorate and change the place, paint, and more or less blend our two styles into one, making it our place. I also think the idea of couples moving into a new place together is usually when they either both already own a house or neither do, if someone in a relationship already owns their own house most often the partner who doesn’t will move in with them, but that’s just my own thoughts on it.
We’ve also gotten into arguments over changing patio furniture, which I already have, and she said we should buy an entire new set of furniture. I said I don’t really see why we would need a new entire set, my dogs have gotten fur on the current set, but otherwise they’re in good condition, and I said we could clean the furniture with my pressure washer whenever we want. I also agreed that we can expand the patio and add more furniture, a piece or two that she can pick out so that she has some choice in the matter. Although to get to that point she cried a lot and then told me she always had a dream of buying her own patio furniture and she feels like this is another dream that I’m trying to take away from her.
To be honest I am quite the saver and value my security over spending money on things that I already have. I grew up in a lower-middle class family and saw my parents struggle with finances, where as Christine grew up in what I would consider upper-middle class or even lower-high class, and possibly expects a little more than I do. Whereas I grew up learning to love what I have, Christine has often dreamed about what’s next and wanting more. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing for either of us, but this I feel has resulted in some of the arguments revolving around things and the house.
TL/DR Issue 1: My girlfriend seems to not like my house and feels she is sacrifising a lot to move in with me.
Issue 2: Me hanging out with my friends
Another issue that has come up is how we value our various friendships. Christine is more of an introvert and works in an office, so can feel relatively drained at the end of the day and often doesn’t feel the need to additional social interactions, although she does have some people she considers close friends, although maybe only sees them once a month or less even. Where as I am more of an extrovert, although I do like my alone time as well and do have introvert tendencies, but because I work for myself at home I do like to fill my social interactions with my friends when I’m not working. Now I’m not a party animal and I don’t go out every night of the week or anything like that, but I do see my friends maybe 2-3 times a week, often in a group setting.
Christine and I did a personality test recently, which showed that she carries the introvert tendencies, but also can be very jealous and feel like she has extreme FOMO when events are going on. Even when she is invited to them but declines as her social battery is low, she still feels like she has been left out, despite being invited to join by me or someone else in my friend group. I always make an effort to invite her most of the time, unless I know it’s just gonna be a guys night, in which case I try to let her know what I’m up to.
Sometimes my friends are last minute with plans so they’ll text me, and I’ll rush to take care of my dogs and then head out. I try to let my girlfriend know what I’m up to and invite her, but since we don’t live together I don’t always give her a play by play at all times of the day of what I’m up to. Past relationships I’ve had haven’t really wanted to know what I was doing at all times if we’re not living together. I’ve also never made plans with her and then ditched her for my friends, I always make a point to stick to my word and keep any plans that we have set in stone.
In the past when I’ve been hanging out with my friends her texts to me have been short and impersonal and I can tell she’s upset, this has sometimes taken away my joy from hanging out with my friends. She has stated that she isn’t upset at me, but just upset that she is missing out on something, despite most of the times being invited to join. While moving in together would result in me and Christine seeing each other more and I’d of course always let her know if I was heading out or wouldn’t be home when she was expecting me, I sometimes fear her FOMO and the sometimes hour long conversations reassuring her about our relationship after I hang out with my friends.
I feel like this comes down to trust issues, and I feel like Christine doesn’t trust me, despite never being dishonest with her. I’ve had previous relationships cheat on my either emotionally or physically and that’s a pain that doesn’t go away, so I’ve always made an effort to never do anything unbecoming as such. The trust issues come down possibly to Christine’s insecurities about herself, and while I’ve tried to comfort her or reassure her, I feel like it’s a personal issue that she should be talking to a therapist about. She was seeing a therapist for a while, but has stopped recently, stating that the therapist was to agreeable with her, and she wasn’t seeing actionable changes. Although she is self-aware enough to realize that these trust and insecurity issues are her own.
This is compounded further because my friend group has a female friend, I’ll call her Carlotta, who is dating one of my closest friends. After my ex and I broke up 2 and a half years ago, Carlotta and her boyfriend (my close friend) broke up, Carlotta and I both got a little drunk and bonded over our breakups and kissed. We only kissed and nothing else happened, but the next morning we both said that it was a bad idea and that was more or less the end of it. My close friend and Carlotta ended up getting back together about a month later, and after some awkwardness, my close friend forgave both of us for the kiss. They were of course broken up at the time, and I respect peoples relationships too much to ever make a move on someone who is in a relationship, nor would I ever make a move on someone when I’m in a relationship myself. Carlotta and I both chalked it up to both feeling lonely with the recent break-ups. I still hang out with my close friend weekly usually, and Carlotta is there I’d say about 25% of the time, so I might see her once a month or so in group settings. In an effort to be honest with Christine I told her about I and Carlotta’s history early on in our relationship, and this only made Christine more insecure. When I told her I was unaware of her underlying trust and insecurity issues, although I still feel like open honesty was probably the best choice.
While the FOMO and jealousy over me hanging out with my friends is still there, if Carlotta is around it is usually worse. This has led Christine to comparing herself to Carlotta, or at least the idea of Carlotta. Christine at one point block her Instagram because she would see Carlotta’s stories feel even more insecure. Christine has accused me of hiding things from her about me and Carlotta’s past, which I haven’t, and accused me of acting awkward when Carlotta is around. Although I feel like any awkwardness is probably because I know Christine is insecure around Carlotta, so I might be a little uncomfortable not wanting to upset my girlfriend.
While I feel like this has gotten better recently, when I hung out with my friends the other day, Carlotta happened to be there and I told my girlfriend as much afterwards. I of course invited my girlfriend to join at the time, but she wasn’t interested. When we talked on the phone and I told my girlfriend what my friends and I got up to, I could feel like she was upset, and she told me she felt triggered. I asked her why exactly, and the conversation eventually spun off, and while recognizing that it is her insecurity issues, she got upset with how she felt I responded to her being triggered. While I was trying to figure out why exactly she was upset, she became upset at me for not instead immediately comforting her. Although I did try to comfort her, I guess it wasn’t in the way she wanted to be comforted. She accused me of “being attracted greatness”, and because she considers Carlotta to be “great” I musty be attracted to her. This isn’t the case, I’m really not attracted to Carlotta in that way anymore, so I feel like I need to defend myself. Then I get accused of being defensive, so really there’s no winning. It took an hour of back and forth talking to eventually come to end the phone call on good terms where neither of us were upset.
TL/DR issue 2: My girlfriend is insecure and very anxious when I hang out with my friends.
Issue 3: Communication stuff I guess?
While this has probably been apparent in some of the above writing, I really feel like we sometime struggle to understand one another. I’m a very logical person and tend to need a reason for something to be a certain way or to change things. Christine is more emotional and a dreamer, she’s more concerned with thoughts and feelings where as I am more interested in facts and data. Neither of these things is a real issue at all, except for when it comes to conversations that lead to disagreements. Sometimes I feel like we’re having a perfectly normal conversation with some back and forth, and then all of a sudden she’s upset at me and in tears, and I try to rewind the conversation to find something that would have resulted in this response, and I legit can’t. That probably makes me sound pretty stupid, because if someone is crying there must be a reason, but even when she repeats what made her upset, I can’t even place in the conversation when this happened. Seriously, I rack my brain trying to place it and it just isn’t there. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Eventually we can maybe rewind enough to the initial triggering, but even when it’s repeated I have no idea why it would deserve this emotional of a response.
Some of the time it’s because she took a joke I said as reality, not realizing it was a joke. So I have to explain the joke in great detail so that she can get it. I’m a very jokey person by nature and do struggle to be serious. Christine is less jokey, and more serious by nature. Sometimes I can say a joke and she laughs really hard, so she isn’t humourless by any degree. I just think because she’s so serious that she sometimes assumes what I’m saying is serious, and suddenly all the context is gone.
Other times it seems she gets upset at me for reasons that others wouldn’t. I play sports with my friend in recreational leagues, and every now and then we’ve needed a sub so my girlfriend has filled in. After some of the games she is, at least I feel she is, angry at me for perceived things about how I play. Sometimes when you’re playing with a sub you don’t have the same groove as your team usually would, but my girlfriend seems to take it personally if I don’t pass the ball to her enough, and accuses me of not wanting to improve at the sport, despite my level of play being equal or better than most of my team-members, at least in my opinion. There are obviously ways I could improve, but this is a rec league and I only play once a week at most and I’m not going for the majors, most of us are there to have a good time and play the game, and then maybe grab some drinks after to celebrate the win or the loss. I can feel Christine’s mood sour if we aren’t doing well, and everyone else isn’t upset at all. Sometimes you lose and sometimes you win, but she hates losing and is very competitive. While she’s not horrible at the game, she doesn’t play as often as we all do, and is probably not quite on our level. So she gets upset when she feels she’s letting the team down, but I’ve told her many times that no one feels like she is letting us down. She does feel like she needs to be the best at stuff, and when she isn’t she gets upset at herself, and then might turn it around on me. It got to the point where I had to stop inviting her to join us as she was getting too upset either visibly in the game or at me after for some perceived slights, for not passing the ball enough, or for me not improving enough since playing.
We have started going to therapy, largely because I want to iron out these issues before moving in together, and in the session I brought up the FOMO and insecurities she has over me hanging out with my friends. We talked and I got some perspective on her side, and I hope she got some perspective on my side. We mostly talked about the house issues though, as that was the most pressing, and the FOMO stuff was relegated to a small part of therapy. Later on in the evening when I went over to her place to hang out she said she felt blindsided about how I brought up her insecurities about this in therapy. She said that she felt we had talked about these issues in the past and didn’t think that it should have been brought up in therapy. I told her that just because we’ve talked about it in the past, and it has gotten a little better, doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try to talk about it in therapy to gain a better perspective. For context, the next night she got upset when I hung out with my friends, aka the last paragraph of issue 2, so it’s pretty clear that this is an ongoing issue and hasn’t been fully resolved.
The therapist even picked up on something that my girlfriend has started somewhat jokingly diagnosing herself with after watching some videos on TikTok, that is possibly her having ADHD or being somewhere on the Autism spectrum. Both of these would explain why she struggles to contain her emotions, and appreciates having control of her environment, although I can’t really say for sure either way, as I’m not equipped myself to diagnose anything.
TL/DR of Issue 3: Sometimes we just don’t seem to get each other or be on the same page.
In closing:
Welp, that was a long novel. I think Stephen King will be reaching out to me for the rights soon. I know this might seem like a lot of things, but I just wanted to provide as much detail as possible, plus I think it’s probably all kind of the same thing, but written a whole bunch of different ways. I really do love my girlfriend and want to work out these issues. I hope that therapy is enough to be able to see eye to eye, but I maybe wanted some outside perspective. And I would ask that people keep in mind the ass for mentioned bias that this write-up has probably in my favour, so I would appreciate any opinions in favour of my girlfriend. I really want this to workout, I just want this relationship to last when we move in together, that’s why I wrote all this out, and that’s why we started going to therapy. I truly do love her and I know she loves me. If you read this entire thing then I thank you, and even if you just read the TL/DR of each issue I still thank you.
TL/DR: My girlfriend and I want to move in together, but I feel like communication issues, issues with her thoughts on my house, and her insecurities over my friendships may need to be resolved first. Would appreciate any advice. What would you do in my situation, or how would you handle any of the situations noted above?

I just got my SP-404 mk2 today in the mail from Amazon and I'm trying to turn the PUSH ENTER knob in the utility menu, but it's not doing anything. Did I receive a broken unit or is there something simple that I'm overlooking?

The year is 1626. The Wittebane brothers have reunited on the worst of terms, and Phillip has tracked Caleb to his home in the woods. Evelyn is gone from the house. It's just the two brothers, neither of whom will take no for an answer.
Or: Caleb Wittebane soapboxes about depression and then promptly gets killed. My take on Caleb's death.

• Also on AO3, if that's your thing!
• Starring Caleb, who needs a hug, Phil, who's a murderous asshole, and no one else. I wanted this to be fairly self-contained.
• Content warning for stabbing. (If that wasn't already obvious from my putting “Caleb” and “death” next to each other.)

The fire flickered, almost in alarm, when Phillip entered the house.
Caleb had left the door open. He was expecting his brother. Phillip had come for the portal, and for Evelyn, neither of which were here. He’d made sure of that. Everything else was replaceable.
Phillip stood over him. He was shorter than Caleb when they were both standing, but while Caleb was in the armchair, Phillip managed to look quite imposing.
“Where is she?”
Caleb sighed, tea mug still in hand.
“I've only ever loved two people in the world, Phillip. I didn't want to watch one of them kill the other. So I sent her away. Somewhere safe.”
He didn’t stand. He didn’t stir. He just sat in his armchair, by the fire, like he'd done so many times before.
“Besides, soon it'll be three. I wasn't totally sure she'd win that fight if it happened.”
Phillip didn't move either. He just stared.
“You made a child,” he recalled, still in disbelief. “With that thing.”
“We got married first, if that's what you're worried about,” Caleb chuckled.
Phillip's face remained a mask. Caleb returned solemnly to stoic.
“I’m sorry.”
That elicited a bit of surprise. Phillip’s grip on his knife went the tiniest bit slack.
“I left you there,” Caleb continued. “I shouldn’t have done that. I knew I shouldn’t have. No matter how much I tell myself you were safe in town, or that I didn’t know what I was walking into, that I wanted to keep you safe, I should not have left you alone. And I am sorry.”
Phillip’s eyes darted, briefly, to the empty wicker chair that sat opposite Caleb’s, where he could have sat. Rested. Talked.
He stayed standing.
“I don’t care that you left.”
At this, Caleb was surprised.
“...What?”
“I care why you left. I care that these monsters have corrupted your soul. They are warping your sense of reality.”
“Stop saying that.”
“You abandoned everything we stood for,” Phillip snapped, unfazed. “It wasn’t just that you abandoned me. This place… it’s made you forget all the things you warned me about as a child. It saw your temptations and-”
“Those were stories, Phillip,” Caleb urged. “I told you stories to help you sleep. Lloyd and Mather and all the others were the ones who believed them. You never believed them!”
Phillip took a step back.
Caleb only pressed further. “You barely believed any of it. What changed?”
“I saw Hell with my own eyes,” Phillip said immediately. “That’s what changed.”
Caleb didn’t look at him with anger, or even anything resembling anguish. He looked out the window, at the cool blue of nighttime, with an expression that looked almost like pity.
“This place isn’t Hell.” he finally said. “I’m not even sure anymore that Hell is a place.”
Phillip scoffed, but there was desperation in his eyes.
“It’s a thing,” Caleb continued. “It’s a cruel, insidious thing that latches on to the back of your head and fills it with lies. With hatred. It makes you hate everything it can. Even yourself. Especially yourself. It makes you hate life. It eats at your soul until there’s nothing left, constantly nagging at you. Vile. That is what warps your reality. Not this place. Not any place. It’s always people who tell you you’re nothing, and that thing in the back of your mind that tells you they’re right. That is what Hell is. And that’s what Gravesfield was for me.”
“Always people…” Phillip repeated, his voice almost a whisper. He looked on the verge of tears.
“...Did you hate living with me that much?”
“No,” Caleb swore. “It’s not you, I promise you that. It was never you. You were the only reason I had to stay there."
Phillip stared at him in disbelief.
“I wasn’t happy there, Phillip. I just… put on a brave face because I knew you were, and that mattered more to me. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the Isles when I found it, to go back to that place. But it was never because of you.”
He hesitated for a moment, weathering Phillip’s stare.
“And I’ve had to unlearn… a lot of what we thought we knew as children, don’t get me wrong. But it’s worth it. This place isn’t perdition, it’s paradise. I just had to give it a chance, and it gave me one. Evelyn gave me a chance. She’ll give you one, I promise.”
He gestured towards the knife, and to Phillip’s white-knucked grip on it.
“But you need to put the knife down first.”
Phillip didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.
There was actual, genuine fear in his eyes.
“...You really have lost it, haven’t you?”
He took a step forward. Then another. Caleb suddenly became quite aware of the light glyph in his pocket.
It would buy him a couple of seconds, at most, but he could make that work.
“Phillip, please, think about this.”
His brother said nothing. He just lunged.
Caleb didn’t have to rely on his secret weapon, this time. Phillip’s knife had less-than-excellent reach. He was up and out of his seat with ease, and the knife missed him by a mile.
Phillip realized that just as quickly, and grabbed a poker off the mantle, brandishing it like a sword. Caleb would’ve found it funny, under happier circumstances.
“...Really?”
Phillip wasn’t any better with the poker. Caleb dodged out of the way, and Phillip swung again, lodging it into one of the blazing logs. He lobbed it at Caleb’s head.
Caleb barely ducked out of the way, and darted through the kitchen, as the fire began to spread.
“Are you mad?!”
Phillip didn’t answer. He just chased him, jumping over the flames that now blocked the front door. Caleb darted up the stairs, finally throwing the glyph into Phillip’s face, blinding him. Phillip howled in shock.
“I’m going to save your soul,” he practically screamed, “even if I have to kill you!”
Caleb, despite himself, almost laughed at that. “Do you even hear yourself?”
Phillip ascended with ironically devilish speed, but Caleb knew the house better. (And Phillip had to abandon the poker when he got it stuck in the backboard of one of the stairs, which slowed him down some.) Caleb shut the bedroom door, locked it, and pushed Evelyn’s lucky armchair up against it, jamming it under the doorknob.
Now he had a minute or so to think of what to do next.
Most of the glyphs in the drawer were single ones, fire and ice and light. None of those would do him much good. There were a couple plant glyphs, and Caleb activated one and tossed at the door, buying himself a bit more time.
At precisely that moment, Phillip’s knife tore through the door, right above the knob, and his guttural, desperate wailing became much more audible.
Caleb frantically searched for a blank piece of paper, while Phillip continued hacking away at the door. Soon, his face was partially visible.
“CALEB!”
His eyes were glowing.
Caleb only needed one particular glyph. The trouble was, he’d never tried it before. He’d only drawn it once, theoretically. He barely remembered it.
Funny how well he did under pressure.
He threw another plant glyph at the door, patching up most of the holes Phillip had made.
Then he opened the window and vaulted out.
He activated the glyph halfway down, and his fall halted not a foot from the ground. He landed safely and broke into a run, making for the trees nearby.
He looked over his shoulder once. The entire ground floor of the house was in flames, and the upper floor was catching it quickly. A day’s work for Evelyn’s uncle, gone.
Caleb just kept running. There would be time for damage control later.
He’d been running for less than a minute before he heard a thump behind him, a crack, and a scream.
He stopped. He couldn’t see the house from here, but Phillip didn’t know all the glyph combinations that Caleb did. He probably broke something jumping out the window.
That’ll slow him down, thought an insidious, selfish part of his brain.
He looked back a second time, back through the trees. He couldn’t see Phillip. He couldn’t even see the house, which by now looked more like a bonfire, he was sure.
As he ran, he planned.
Option one was Evelyn. She was with her parents, deep within Bonesborough, surrounded by family friends, all of whom seemed to love Caleb almost as much as they loved her. Could he risk going to her?
No, he decided. The town would protect him from Phillip, but that meant nothing when he wasn’t what Phillip was after, not really.
Phillip was after everyone else.
Caleb wouldn’t endanger them. He wouldn’t endanger her.
Option two was just outside Bonesborough. Ulysses Blight was friendly with Caleb. (Maybe a bit too friendly, but he’d deal with that if he had to.) Problem was, the house Ulysses lived in was more like a fortress, and who’s to say Phillip wouldn’t size up that fortress, then cut his losses and go after the town instead?
Besides, Caleb was getting tired. He doubted he’d make it all the way up the Right Arm to where Bonesborough was.
If he dropped from exhaustion, Phillip would catch up to him.
“I’ll save your soul, even if I have to kill you.”
If he dropped from exhaustion, Phillip would kill him.
And then he’d kill everyone else.
(He’d find the portal, surely, and go back to Gravesfield. God knew how big the town had gotten in Caleb’s absence, and he rather doubted they were any less superstitious and cunning and murderous than they had been when Caleb knew them. If Phillip brought back an army of witch hunters and taught them his tricks… that was it.)
That left option three. He had to stop Phillip, somehow. He had to stop him alone. No one on the Isles knew Phillip better.
And right now, Phillip was chasing him, which was infinitely better than the reverse.
Caleb could circle back toward the house, keep the catastrophe contained. Maybe even make sure the fire didn’t burn down the forest. The house was in a big clearing, a good distance from any trees, but he couldn’t be too careful. There was grass, too.
He didn’t turn around completely - he doubtlessly would run right into Phillip that way. Instead he cut left, through the thick of the trees, ducking through branches and vaulting over roots. Countless flights with Evelyn had made him familiar with most of the forest.
But Phillip had always been the smarter brother, even when they were children. Caleb couldn't hear him anymore, but he didn’t doubt he was gaining.
He was wrong.
When he cleared the forest, he came upon the house again. Phillip was there, waiting for him to come back.
He’d always been smarter.
The cracking and screaming he’d heard had not been Phillip breaking a bone on impact. Whatever curse he was inflicted with had twisted him. His skin was gone, given way to dark green veins and glowing blue eyes all over. His face, still shrouded in ragged brown hair, had sprouted antlers, and overall he gave the terrifying impression of that witch-hunter’s mask Caleb had made for him when they were boys. Caleb marked the resemblance in horror.
He’d caused this.
Phillip writhed in this new form, but it didn’t last long. Soon, the contortions stopped, the eyes receded, and his skin returned in its usual shade. He gasped in pain, as the house burned behind him.
Phillip’s smooth, ornate knife was at his feet, and he made no effort to grab it, even as his fingers bent back into shape.
Instead, he pointed.
“I won’t let you acquiesce devilry,” he spat, and his voice still had a monstrous echo. “I’m trying to save your soul.”
“I’m trying to save yours. If you kill those people, if you kill me… there’s no coming back from that.”
“We were supposed to do this together,” he seethed. “This is what we do! We find evil. We root it out, we burn it, we cleanse it. You have to remember!”
Caleb gripped his own knife in his left hand. “I remember.”
“Then you understand!”
“I remember the people we cleansed. I remember the people we burned and hanged.”
He dropped his knife, letting it settle next to his feet.
“I want no part in it anymore.”
Phillip looked at the knife in the dirt. Then back at Caleb.
"Witches aren't people, Caleb. They don't deserve your mercy."
Caleb said nothing more. He just stared.
"I am trying to save humanity from evil. I'm trying to save you! From all this! This realm of demons. How can it be good? They're monsters, Caleb."
Caleb stood still, and said nothing.
“...You’re not going to do anything?”
Phillip walked towards Caleb. More of a limp, really. Maybe he had broken his leg.
“Say something.”
Caleb didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just watched.
“Say something!”
“...I don’t know what more you want to hear,” he finally said, quietly.
Phillip stood no more than a few feet from Caleb now. He looked surprised.
“Fine.”
He knelt down briefly and scraped up the knife off the ground. He stared at Caleb, eyes bloodshot and bulging. He was trembling, and his breathing was ragged. Caleb couldn’t tell if he was sad, afraid, or angry.
It was probably all three.
Eventually, Phillip looked away.
“I don’t have to kill you.”
He limped past Caleb, his breathing growing even again. “One day, you’ll understand.”
Caleb reached out and gripped his shoulder. “I won’t let you h-”
The knife was between his ribs before he could react.
He gasped. He tried to breathe. He couldn’t. He tried to look down at the knife. Somehow, he couldn’t. His face was fixed on his brother.
Phillip looked in shock. Almost regretful.
Within seconds, his expression hardened. He drove the knife deeper and twisted it.
Caleb would’ve cried out, but… he couldn’t. His throat closed up. He gasped. He felt tears on his face, but he couldn’t feel himself crying. He felt the knife in him, but it felt… removed, almost, as though it was someone else’s pain.
He could still see Phillip through his eyes, but he couldn’t close them. It was like he was looking through someone else. Feeling through someone else. Bleeding through someone else.
Caleb couldn’t move. He could feel the sensations seeping out of him through the wound. He couldn’t speak. His legs ceased their support, and he collapsed. The knife fell out of him - Phillip still had an iron grip on it - and that jolt of pain was the last thing Caleb felt. He didn’t even feel himself hit the ground.
Phillip still looked at him. And then at the knife. And then back to Caleb, as if still realizing fully what he’d just done. His face was contorted in disbelief, his breathing panicked again and through gritted teeth. His eyes were still reddened, tinged with rage but mostly bulging with shock. His hand shook.
Then, in a horrible moment, it steadied. His breathing slowed, his jaw unclenched, his posture corrected itself.
His eyes glassed over. Slowly. Like he, too, was dying in that moment.
Caleb’s vision lost focus. Phillip’s face lost all emotion. He turned, and walked away, to the west, toward Bonesborough.
It's only fair, Caleb supposed, that I should be left alone like this. It was much the same kindness he had afforded Phillip, when they were children.
I left him alone. I caused this.
I'm so sorry, Evelyn.
(That was the last thought he had before everything went black.)

It was a long trip. This is a long post. Apologies in advance.
HIGHLIGHTS (Days 1-14 of 28) KYOTO--Kiyomizu temple; Nanzenji temple; Nijo Castle; Sanjusangendo temple; Shugakuin Imperial Villa; Kinkakuji (Golden Pavilion); Fushimi Inari shrine; 184th Kamogawa-Odori geisha show HIMEJI-The castle and garden. NARA-Todaiji temple UJI-Byodoin temple IZU KOGEN--Jogasaki Coast nature trail
TOKYO, Monday 5/8
We arrived mid-afternoon at Tokyo/Haneda, right after Golden Week ended. It turned out to be, coincidentally, the day when the Japanese government officially downgraded the Covid pandemic to the level of a seasonal flu.
Fresh off a 13-hour flight and experiencing Japan for the first time, we went from touchdown to hotel check-in in something like 90 minutes, braving an almost-rush-hour crush on the Keikyu Line train from the Terminal 3 station.
Experience has taught us that meticulously planning every step of arrival in a new country is crucial to avoiding confusion, getting lost or simply wasting time.
Pre-loaded Suica cards on our smartphones led us straight to the train without standing in any lines.
We' chose the Shinagawa Station area of central Tokyo to spare our jetlagged selves another leg of indeterminate length--four or five hours at least--to reach our Kyoto base. Shinagawa is a straight shot--no transfers--from Haneda and a great place to catch a bullet train.
It was a geezer move that gave us plenty of time to familiarize ourselves with the layout and operation of one of Japan's busiest train stations.
Before crashing for the night, we'd taken care of some business by getting cash from an ATM and picking up reserved seat tickets for a post-Kyoto leg. We used a JR Railway ticket machine to print out the tickets, using QR codes emailed to us the previous month when we bought the tickets online directly from JR-East railway (we avoided costly middlemen in all our travel and entertainment purchases, something that requires planning but is easily doable from abroad). Like all our electronic machine transactions in Japan, there was an English language option on the touch-screen.
A machine also checked us in at the Prince Hotel Shinagawa, part of a modern high-rise development, chosen mainly for convenience. It's a one-block walk from the train station and was perfect for a couple jet-lagged Japan newbies. What we got, for the princely sum of $116 USD, was a spacious (by Japan standards) room on the 34th floor with a dead-on view of Tokyo Tower. Dinner was carryout sushi from the Queen's Isetan department store on the opposite side of the station, plus beer and sake from a convenience store, all consumed in the hotel room with Tokyo's skyline at our feet.
KYOTO , Tuesday 5/9
On the advice of an old Japan hand, we made Kyoto our base for the first two weeks. It worked well. We explored a fabulous city, took three day trips (Himeji/Osaka; Nara; Uji) and left town wishing we'd had time for more.
We expected our first full day to be a blur, due to jetlag, but it wasn't too bad. Following advice from this sub for first-time shinkansen travelers, we got to the station an hour early.
We bought far enough in advance on the Smart EX app to get a slight discount. We booked back row seats on the right-hand side for easy luggage storage but discovered that both our bags (including my larger one, which measures 142 cm [L+H+W]) also fit on the overhead rack. We never had luggage problems on trains during our trip.
Our train to Kyoto had great Fuji views, our first. After depositing the bags in a Kyoto station storage locker (rented with the smartphone Suica card), we made our first sightseeing stop: Toji Temple, a quick subway ride and walk away.
About picking hotels
We used triangulation to pick hotels; that is, cross-checking information from various sources to give us the best possible chance of getting a good place at a decent price. Sources included a handful of guidebooks from the public library, Trip Advisor and this sub.
Solaria Nishitetsu Hotel Kyoto Premier ($221 USD per night with massive breakfast buffet, best of the trip) turned out to be a great base. We paid extra for a room facing the Kamo River, a popular gathering spot for locals, tourists and joggers. We benefited from early booking (more than six months in advance, shortly after Japan began opening up). Inflation and other factors have since raised the price of the same room by about 10 percent.
The newish (opened in 2017) hotel attracts mainly Japanese/Asian travelers who, like me, enjoyed the onsen in the basement. We also put the coin-operated washedryers to good use.
KYOTO, Wednesday 5/10
Up and out, thanks to jetlag, shortly after 5 a.m., walking deserted streets to the foot of magical Kiyomizu temple, arriving just as it opened at 6 a.m. We were back at the hotel for breakfast by 8, after walking down the picturesque, cobbled streets of Sannenzaka, shops still closed, with more tourists starting to trickle in.
About choosing sightseeing spots
I'm a sucker for ratings, assuming they're done well. So, guidebook must-sees, like DK Eyewitness's or Lonely Planet's, star ratings in the Michelin Green Guide to Japan or in the downloaded Gateway to Japan guide (a steal at $10 and in your pocket for free on Kindle app) and, finally, Japan Guide's recommendations helped guide our steps.
That's how we ended up spending the afternoon at Nanzenji, a must-see Zen temple, which, like Kiyomizu, is laid out at the foot of the mountains east of town.
Lunch this day was at Junsei, a yudofo (boiled tofu) restaurant we stumbled onto near the temple. We used wooden sticks to skim the surface of an iron vat filled with simmering soy milk, that was set before us over a gas flame.
About finding restaurants
If you've never been to Japan but lurk on this sub, you've already heard that it's practically impossible to get a bad meal. We booked a handful of places before leaving home but agree with others that you rarely need to do that to eat well. If you're determined to hit a place that's highly popular, often with deep-pocketed foreign tourists, reservations may be required.
We're foodies, up to a point, but Japan's profusion of starred Michelin restaurants was wasted on us. We've learned over the years that we seldom enjoy paying the inflated cost. Over four weeks, we ate once at a Michelin one-star, chosen for other reasons.
That said, Michelin's Bib Gourmands (good, affordable restaurants) never disappointed us. They are plentiful in Japan, especially in Kyoto and Tokyo, and worth seeking out. Most of the time, though, we picked places to eat by cross-checking Google (asking for "soba noodles" near me, for example) and Tabelog, the indispensible crowd-sourced Japanese website (we looked for places in the 3.5 range).
Non-speakers of Japanese can have a hard time making reservations. We found that we could make them in advance from abroad through services like TableCheck (and an apparently expanding number of others aimed at tourists, usually charging a fee; sometimes small, sometimes steep). On the ground in Japan, we sometimes reserved for free through Google and Tabelog (at random places which you can find on Google or Tabelog restaurant listings); they were always honored. We also asked hotel reception desks for reservation help on occasion. We went to a couple restaurants in person and booked a table for later. But the easiest and often best way to get in is simply to arrive on the early side for lunch (by 11:30 or so) or dinner (between 5 and 5:30). More than once, we walked right into a place and were seated, only to discover lots of people waiting in line outside when we left. That said, if you're looking for an above-average meal on a Saturday night, especially in a popular location, you might want to book in advance.
Konbinis (convenience stores) are cheap, good and extremely reliable sources of takeout. And though we liked what we got there (mainly onigiri), we wound up relying on them less and less as the trip went along. The same was true of department store basements, which lived up to their reputation as fantastic food sources, for locals and tourists alike. We learned that we could often eat for the same amount or less in restaurants geared to locals or foreigners on limited budgets, rather than chowing down in our hotel room.
KYOTO, Thursday 5/11
We hit Nijo Castle in the morning and Sento Imperial Palace, one of several attractions we reserved in advance through the Imperial Household Agency. All were well worth it (and free of charge). The agency website explains the rules, which vary somewhat from site to site. We also toured Kyoto Imperial Palace.
About navigation
Just as the Google Translate app (and similar devices) have broken down language barriers, several travel apps have vastly simplified the business of getting around. Google Maps was our basic navigational tool and it rarely failed us. Another app that helped work in concert with Google Maps was Navitime's Japan Travel guide. Both provide alternate routes, detailed information on trains and stations and much more. Sometimes, when we popped out of subway station, we'd check the compass app on the smartphone to make sure we were heading off in the right direction. It doesn't hurt that public transit throughout the country increasingly uses English or romaji to translate Japanese. Over four weeks, we only found one place where we had trouble deciphering the destination signs on buses (oddly enough, in Himeji, a tourist magnet).
KYOTO, Friday, 5/12
A busy day started at Katsura Imperial Villa. Like other Imperial Household venues, a guided tour (in Japanese, but with free English audio guide) is the only way to see the place and its beautiful gardens.
We also caught a kabuki for beginners show at sumptuous Minamiza Theatre--tickets purchased online in advance--after briefly stopping by bustling Yasaka-jinja shrine down the street.
Dinner was our priciest splurge: Itoh, a serene, traditional style steak house in the atmospheric Gion neighborhood. We hadn't initially planned on eating Kobe beef, since we've pretty much given up beef in our everyday lives, but we were persuaded by a family member who correctly posed the question: If not now, when? Worth the steep tab ($264), not least because our table overlooked the tiny Shirakawa canal, the service was great and now we can say we know what Kobe beef is all about. Like buttah.
KYOTO, Saturday 5/13
We were at Sanjusangendo when it opened and glad we'd gone. The display of 500 life-size, gilded 1000-armed kannon in Japan's longest wooden structure was unforgettable.
We're museum people--either you are or you ain't--and the special exhibition at Kyoto National Museum on the 850th anniversary of the founder of Shin Buddhism was well worth it. Unfortunately, like most Japanese museums, photos were prohibited inside. In this regard, technically advanced Japan lags much of the civilized world; even Old Europe has greatly loosened such restrictions in recent years. Smartphone cameras can be a nuisance to other visitors, but they are a quick and easy way of capturing what you've seen and preserving it for later study.
Lunch was at Vegan Ramen Uzu Kyoto, a Bib Gourmand and the weirdest place we ate. Expanded availability of vegetarian ramen is a promising, healthier trend, and we enjoyed it at several places in Tokyo and Kyoto. A TableCheck reservation, made well in advance, got us seats at this cutting-edge spot. Dining is at a polished black surface in a darkened room bathed by the illumination of a giant, swirling teamLab artwork. Pricey but good.
KYOTO, Sunday 5/14
We're horseplayers and enjoyed a day at recently reopened Kyoto Racecourse, capacity 120,000. Betting is easy; just stop by the information desk for instructions in English.
Dinner at Tiger Gyoza Hall was lively, inexpensive and delicious. It was the only restaurant on our trip that we visited twice; reservable on Google.
KYOTO, Monday 5/15
No place put us through more hoops than Kokedera, better known at Moss Temple. It was well worth the difficulty of getting a needed reservation; if you do it by mail from abroad--the least expensive way to go--you need a couple months head start (and an International Reply Coupon, which you have to buy online from the Swiss Postal System). We got there and back via city buses. Along the way we crossed Togetsukyo Bridge in the very congested tourist hotbed of Arashiyama. It didn't make us regret our decision to skip the area.
Afterward we visited Ninnaji temple. Ryoanji temple and its famous rock garden (where noisy fellow tourists made a Zen experience impossible) and Kinkakuji, the incredible Golden Pavilion. The place was jammed but crowd control is excellent and we're glad we made it.
KYOTO, Tuesday 5/16
Shugakuin Imperial Villa, a vast imperial property of gardens and buildings (which you cannot enter) on the northeastern outskirts, was our favorite Imperial Household Agency site. We felt fortunate to get advance tickets through their lottery but saw that same-day tickets were also available there and at other Agency sites; it would be a long way to go, however, if all tickets were gone on the day you wanted to enter. Since we made a conscious decision to visit Japan after the cherry blossom and Golden Week crowds were gone, we have no idea what things are like during busier times.
We strolled the Philosopher's Path after lunch. Perhaps if it had been a quiet early or cherry blossom time, we might have been blown away. Instead, it was a rare disappointment. It struck us as a very conventional touristy trail; nothing special at all.
On the other hand, Ginkakuji (Silver Pavilion), near one end of the path, lived up to the hype. We capped the day by off by catching the procession of Aoi Matsuri, or Hollyhock Festival, one of Kyoto's three big annual festivals. The parade of hundreds of elaborately costumed people, some on horseback, highlighted by a pair of ox-drawn carts, was a hoot. What surprised us was the absence of music or any sort of percussion.
HIMEJI and OSAKA, Wednesday 5/17
A shinkansen whisked us to Himeji for a tour of the incomparable castle and impressive gardens. We took advantage of the unique Himeji Castle English Speaking Guide service, which generously provides personal tours with an area resident, in English, at no cost (book online in advance).
Lunch was at Mentetsu, a very good ramen shop at a mall located between the train station and the castle. Recommended.
We finished the excursion at Osaka's famous, crazy Dotonburi neighborhood, a cross between Times Square and Disney. Dinner was our first okonomiyaki, deliciously prepared at Okonomiyaki Mizuno (a Bib Gourmand). We're allergic to standing in line---life is too short--and we never waited more than 30 minutes for a table on our trip. They took our order at Mizuno while we were in line, and it was prepared before our countertop seats shortly after we got in. Oishī!
UJI, Thursday 5/18
Uji is renowned for its tea and Byodoin temple, best known for its elegant phoenix hall, which is pictured on the back of the 10 Yen coin. It was a great day trip, including lunch at a traditional local soba shop that served cold noodles sobayu style; you pour hot soba stock--the cloudy water the noodles were boiled in--into what's left of your soy-based dipping sauce and drink the (supposedly) healthy brew. Definitely the way to go. Mampukuji, a Zen temple, was a worthwhile stop before we caught a train back to Kyoto.
NARA, Friday 5/19
Our first day of heavy rain failed to dampen the visit to one of the best places on our trip. The town, a tourist favorite because, or in spite of, the overpopulation of overly friendly deer, is well-described elsewhere. We toured Todai-ji, with its giant Bronze Buddha, had lunch at the cute and delicious Pizzeria Trattoria Magazzino (Bib Gourmand) and checked out Kohfukuji temple, too.
KYOTO, Saturday 5/20
Fushimi Inari shrine, on almost every Kyoto must-see list, lives up to its reputation. We followed good advice from this sub and arrived early, a few minutes before 8 a.m. Already, crowds were building. We detoured from the main path through thousands of torii gates and wandered instead up an almost totally deserted sylvan trail on the south side of Mt. Inari, past bamboo groves, a few minor shrines and some houses. After about 45 minutes, we reached a set of stone stairs to the summit. From the top, we took the main path down, dodging the stream of fellow tourists as best we could and gaping at the gates and the view from the halfway point. We highly recommend this alternative way of seeing the best of two Fushimi Inari worlds.
We celebrated our last full day in Kyoto, and our 40th wedding anniversary, with a memorable kaiseki lunch at Hana Kitcho, a Michelin one-star booked weeks in advance from home. The beautifully decorated private room, attentive service, imaginative presentation, museum-quality stoneware and delicious food were certainly up to one-star standards.
The minute that advance online tickets went on sale for the 184th Kamogawa Odori, I jumped on them. The tourist-oriented geisha dance performance is held in May at a theater that overlooks the Kamo River. We were lucky to have been given seats in the front row and when one of the geishas tossed a white cloth package in my direction I snatched it. I now have an unexpected souvenir, a cloth banner autographed by the geisha herself. The fantastic show will remain in memory.
IZU KOGEN, Sunday 5/21
We left Kyoto for the Izu Peninsula and what turned out to be the best single night of our trip. Hanafubuki, a modern ryokan I learned about on this sub, was everything we could have wanted. It features 9 private outdoor onsens on beautifully landscaped property and elegant guest rooms with fluffy futons for sleeping on tatami mats. The ten-course dinner was exquisite. Breakfast, a seven-course feast that featured whole grilled horse mackerel and golden-eye sea bream, was simply amazing.
IZU KOGEN, Monday 5/22
A short walk from the ryokan is the scenic Jogasaki Coast nature trail, a rugged stretch of rocks and pounding surf. A guy I met there who introduced himself as Zeus, a Japanese native currently living in California and in town to visit his parents, compared the coastline to Monterey Bay. We could have used another night to allow us to explore the trail at greater length.
Lunch was at a great local restaurant, walking distance from the train station, Honke Maguroya, featuring local fish and top-grade tuna. The wasabi rhizome, which you grate yourself, is a tipoff to the quality of the sushi, but the prices are extremely reasonable. Recommended.
From there we headed back to Tokyo and the remainder of our trip. Highlights and a full (too full?) final report coming soon.

I am only accepting PayPal F&F.
Shipping is not included. Open to bundle offers.
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$175	Shantae: half genie hero, pirate curse, risky revenge director's cut, slipcover	Selling as a bundle, all sealed	PS5
$40	Cthulhu Save Christmas	Sealed	PS5
$55	River city girls	Sealed	PS5
$95	Castlevania Requiem [Classic Edition]	Sealed	PS4
$75	Uncharted golden abyss	Sealed, small tear at the back	PS Vita
$60	Mvp baseball 2005	Sealed	Gamecube
$15	Dragon Ball Z Budokai player choice	Game, case, manual	Gamecube
$225	Pikmin	Sealed	Gamecube
$25	4 gameboy coloadvance lot (all loose) include pac-man collection GBA, spongebob square pants, lizzie mcguire 3 gba, tetris	All loose, selling as a bundle only	Gameboy Advance
$75	Fire Emblem Sacred Stones	Loose	Gameboy advance
$90	Golden sun + Golden sun the lost age	Both loose	Gameboy advance
$8	Lord Of The Rings Two Towers	Loose	Gameboy advance
$23	Mario kart super circuit	Loose	Gameboy advance
$5	Snood	Loose	Gameboy advance
$950	Mario and luigi superstar saga (sealed)	Sealed	Gameboy advance
$1200	Sealed gameboy color teal	Sealed, great condition	Gameboy Color
$30	Nano Assault	Loose	3ds
$45	Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Gates To Infinity	CIB	3ds
$40	Star Fox 64 3D	CIB	3ds
$12	Super smash bros	CIB	3ds
$5	Mario Vs donkey kong mini land	Manual only	DS
$18	Mario party DS	CIB	DS
$185	Mega Man Star Force 3 Red Joker	CIB, great condition	DS
$5	ATV Quad Frenzy	Loose	DS
$25	Dig Dug Digging Strike	CIB, sticker residue on the front	DS
$10	Super monkey ball touch & roll	Game, case, manual	DS
$30	3 wii games bundle include Truck racer, Miniclip Sushi Go-Round, Brave A Warrior's Tale	All games are sealed. Sealed game top right seal is broken. Selling as a bundle	Wii

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$50	2064: Read Only Memories	Sealed	Switch
$50	Arc Of Alchemist	Sealed	Switch
$45	Astalon: Tears Of The Earth	Sealed	Switch
$65	Axiom Verge 1 & 2	Sealed	Switch
$30	Battle Chef Brigade Deluxe	CIB, LRG variant	Switch
$30	Battle Chef Brigade Deluxe	CIB, Bestbuy variant	Switch
$45	Black Bird	Sealed	Switch
$50	BloodRayne Betrayal: Fresh Bites	Sealed	Switch
$105	Bloodrayne 1 & 2: Revamped [Dual Pack]	Sealed	Switch
$100	Bloodstained curse of the moon	CIB, best buy variant	Switch
$60	Bloodstained curse of the moon 2	PAX west variant, sealed, small cut on the plastic cover	Switch
$65	Code of princess EX	Launch edition with soundtrack	Switch
$40	DARQ complete edition	Sealed	Switch
$95	Deponia Collection	Sealed	Switch
$60	Doom the classic collection	Sealed	Switch
$60	Dusk	Sealed	Switch
$55	Fairy Tail	Game, case, insert	Switch
$120 shipped	Fire emblem engage divine edition	Top seal broken, box is in decent condition	Switch
$33	Giga Wrecker ALT	Sealed, LRG variant	Switch
$35	Grand mountain adventure	Sealed	Switch
$35	Gris	LRG variant, sealed	Switch
$35	Hyper Parasite	Sealed	Switch
$30	Ion Fury	CIB	Switch
$85	Jay And Silent Bob: Mall Brawl	Sealed	Switch
$65	Langrisser I & II	Game, case, insert	Switch
$45	Last day of June	Sealed	Switch
$150 + shipping	Legend of Zelda Tears of the kingdom collector edition	Broken seal from shipping, otherwise unopened	Switch
$46	Mercenary Kings	CIB	Switch
$75	Metal Unit super rare games	Sealed	Switch
$100	Minecraft: Story Mode Season Two	CIB	Switch
$60	Monster Sanctuary	Sealed	Switch
$50	Murder By Numbers Playasia edition	Sealed	Switch
$65	Octopath Traveler	CIB	Switch
$60	Oninaki	Sealed, JPN version	Switch
$50	Othercide	Sealed	Switch
$40	Pokemon Brilliant Diamond	Sealed	Switch
$40	Pokemon Shield	CIB	Switch
$50	Quake	Sealed	Switch
$60	Rogue Heroes Ruins Of Tasos	Sealed	Switch
$56	Shantae and the seven sirens	Bestbuy variant	Switch
$65	Shantae and the seven sirens	LRG variant	Switch
$50	Slime-San Superslime Edition	CIB	Switch
$55	Sol Cresta: Dramatic Edition	Sealed	Switch
$80	Super mario party joycon bundle box only	BOX ONLY, no game or joycons, mint condition	Switch
$160	Stranger Things 3: The Game standard edition	Sealed	Switch
$35	Ms. Splosion Man	CIB	Switch
$45	River City Girls Zero	Sealed	Switch
$50	The missing	Sealed	Switch
$43	The mummy demastered	Sealed, bestbuy variant	Switch
$20	Valkyria Chronicles 4	Case and joycon skin only no game	Switch
$15	Witcher 3 wild hunt complete edition	No game, PEGI, box and insert and case	Switch
$45	World's End Club Deluxe Edition	Sealed	Switch
$40	Xenoblade chronicles 2	Loose	Switch

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Adam's venture origins - $30
Creature in the well (sealed) - $50
Captain Tsubasa Rise of the new champions - $20
Deemo - $50
Disgaea 5 Japanese version with English - $45
Disgaea 5 - $30
Doom 64 - $40
HOA (pax west exclusive variant with sunflower seeds, sealed) - $100
HOA (sticker residue from gamestop) - $30
Knights And Bikes limited run (sealed) - $45
Oxenfree (no game, just case and manual) - $35
River City Girls (Asian version play english) - $33
Salt and sanctuary (sealed, drowned tome edition) - $140
Sniper elite 4 (sealed) - $35
Super bomber man R (PAL) - $15
Towerfall bestbuy edition (sealed) - $40
Tiny Barbarian launch edition CIB - $20
World end's club deluxe edition bestbuy cover (sealed) - $40
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No case:
Bubble Bobble 4 Friends (minor damage on the cartridge covert art) - $30
Lego Marvel Super Heroes - $25
Star Wars: Jedi Knights II: Jedi Outcast - $30
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Trading cards

Super rare games
- The lions song sealed pack $10
- Mundaun sealed pack $10
- Last day of June sealed pack $10
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Gamecube manual only

Warioware $30
Mario Party 5 - $25
F zero gx - $25

About to recieve a Bosch 300 washer (WAT28400UC) and 500 heat pump dryer (WTW87NH1UC) tomorrow, and it is too late to cancel my order without significant restocking fee ($175 and $275 respectively). Just realized that the standpipe in my basement laundry room is 42", whereas the manuals for both say the max height for the drain is 39". I can manually drain the heat pump, but how risky is it to run the washer with this extra 3-4 inches in drain height? What are the consequences?
Wondering if I can get away with it short term until I can have someone sort a more proper solution: lowering the drain pipe (likely expensive); removing a section of countertop above the washer dryer space and putting them on pedestals to reduce the effective height (moderately expensive, a little hacky), or routing the hose into the nearby sink (cheapest but less elegant). any advice on these alternatives also appreciated.
My bad for not reading the install manual closely enough but bummed Bosch has such weak pumps (e.g., LG, GE, Electrolux compact washer can go as high as 8 feet!)
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One of my closest friends moved in 3 days ago on Sun. For context, I'm 41f and she's 38f. We're both on disability and share similar health problems and are very close friends. She has been here for me when no one else was so I don't want to be rude or hurt her feelings, but something has to give. The place is in my name and I was going to have the landlord add her to the lease this week or next. I only asked for $300 for June since she really wanted to get a mini fridge for her room. It's a 2b2bath duplex. We have not worked out how the rent and bills will be split going forward yet.
Problem 1: I have 5 cats who I take extremely good care of. She has 2 dogs, one is a chihuahua (20lbs) and the other a chihuahua mix (28lbs). We had agreed to keep her dogs shut in her room for awhile unless she was taking them out. In 3 days, she has accidentally let the dogs escape 3 times (twice today) because she doesn't close her door quickly enough. The progress our animals had made towards getting to know each other has regressed because now my cats don't feel safe walking around the house because they never know when a dog is going to come flying out of the room. She won't walk them after 9/10pm, during rain, or even after the rain when it's wet. She plasters the floor with puppy pads and let's them pee wherever. Even when she's home and the weather is nice, she doesn't take them out often enough and just let's them use the puppy pads. One of her dogs has a major skin infection and she hasn't felt up to bathing them and the house now reeks of infection and dog.
Problem 2: This is her first time not to live with family, as her dad passed in Jan and she was his caretaker. She's moving from a 3br home with a significant accumulation of stuff. I've ask her to not bring too much over and to put it in the storage unit she has, until she unpacked some and made more room. She keeps saying that she'll make room for it, but I'm pretty sure she's a hoarder and there will never be enough room. Broken stuff, almost empty bottles of soap, and crap she doesn't need (like a knife sharpener, sandwich press, and stuff like that) has now cluttered the entire house. Apparently her room being overfilled was the reason the dogs escaped. There's just not enough space for it. I asked over and over to not bring more and she always says she'll make space. There is no more space. I asked her to put her huge kitchen table in storage until she could unpack, but she brought it anyway. She still has a ton she is packing to bring now and I'm about to lose my sh*t.
Problem 3: Her family smoked 2-3 packs of cigarettes a day for decades and everything reeks of filth and cigarettes. I smoked for a decade and have never ever smelled anything like it. Even canned food, wood and plastic smells vile. I've almost puked many times already because of it. I don't know how her previous house smelled and never expected it to be this bad. I'm in a duplex and since the whole house now smells like years of filth, cigarettes smoke, and unbathed dogs with one having a skin infection, the neighbor could report me to our landlord. I could cry. She's not worried about it at all and is completely unphased by it while it's literally the worst smell I've ever known someone to live with. The washer and dryer are in my bathroom and she's unconcerned with using vinegar and baking soda to clean her stuff so the smell infects everything that I wash.
Problem 4: She's not throwing out trash from her room and she KNOWS I just had the place exterminated out of my own pocket because of ants getting in through cracks in the foundation. Today, because of the messiness, she broke a glass in her room, cleaned it up with my brand new broom that I had bought so I could throw out one that had been used on glass. She even admitted to not cleaning all of it up and putting her totes of junk there, because there's no room for them anywhere else, on top of what's left of the glass instead of cleaning it up properly.
I'm 3 days in, 3 DAYS. I've been the one taking out most of her dogs pee messes and 90% of trash. If I get rid of stuff to make more space I guarantee she'll fill it back up with crap that she doesn't need. She won't get rid of anything from the 3 br home she's coming from. Right now, I don't want her there. Oh, did I mention she can't drive so I've been asked for the last 3 days, every day, to take her somewhere instead of running the errand myself so she could stay home and take her dogs out. She has medical and dental appts (none of them urgent) she won't reschedule or cancel so that's more time she can't unpack or take her dogs out.
When I offered to let her move in here, she knew that the furniture in that bedroom would stay and expected her to bring just necessities and a few other things. I had a major surgery on May 16th and while I wanted her to wait to the beginning of July to move in, she kept insisting to do it sooner. Now I can't even rest properly because so much has been put on my shoulders that I didn't expect nor want.
Please help me guys! I need a roommate financially since I barely make it every month, but there are too many things going wrong that could've been prevented had she listened to me or just used common sense.

How do we stop payment on something we financed? And where I can report a consumer complaint for free? We got an expensive dryer from the Brick and reported that it was broken from day one but they won't take it back because it is dented. The dent was strategically covered by the paperwork they taped to the machine.It's gas and we are scared that it will burn our house down. See the video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBLR9v3uZWY
Their own installer told us that it was broken and we went right into the store to ask for an exchange. They agreed to take it back but now won't. This is so wrong and we don't know what to do.
What would be the most economical thing to do besides hiring a lawyer?