Rag Mop Puns

Had a spin mop bucket break but saved the mop. Having a soft tool protects the car paint but lets me reach across the car easier.

I am trying to reduce my use of paper products. I was looking around on Amazon and the brand of towels with the most reviews is Utopia. They have a pack of 30 towels for $18. Have any of you used these or have a different brand you might recommend? I am looking to use them mostly in the kitchen.

I have searched online for an answer but came up with nothing.

I would like to know why some NBA arenas prefer using RAGS that are used by their cleaning staff to wipe sweat off the floor over some mops that have a wider coverage.

There must be some special reason for this preference.

In my opinion, mops are better because it covers a wider area a lot faster and saves the back and knees of the ones using it. The hand-held rags on the other hand would be the exact opposite.

Portage county, Wisconsin.

Sorry for formatting, im on mobile.
As stated, I’m a janitor and we have to take out mops and rags home every week to use our washers, or take them to the laundromat to get cleaned. We are paid an hour for our time, (it usually takes at least an hour and a half, plus time to drive there, plus bleach, soap, and quarters for the machine or water if you’re at home. Plus they’re incredibly heavy. We hate this with a passion. It gunks up our machines, takes way too long, hurts our backs, and we don’t get paid a second hour if we do someone else’s. When asked if he could get a company to do this, he said, “there isn’t enough laundry to get an expensive cleaner to take care of it.” And said if we didn’t want to take it home, we could hand wash it in the back and hang it up to dry(these are used to clean up food, pee and blood on occasion). So is this legal?

I am refinishing a table. I am an idiot. Pigtails everywhere. I just don't want to ruin it more.

Also on a separate note when I sand the stain off it goes away. Then a minute later it's like more has bled out of wood. Just curious about it. I did some googling couldn't find a reason.

Rangers at the X, 7pm

cleaning puns are hard

I used to be an excessive paper towel user. I’d use 2-3 sheets for each meal, clean up pet accidents, cover food in the microwave, clean things around the house etc. I would typically buy the 12-24 pack at Costco believing I was saving money when I did that since it would last me 3-4 months. One day I decided to grab a big stack of cleaning rags and stuck them in a basket where I used to keep the paper towels and moved the paper towels to beneath my sink. This all started about a year ago and I have yet to buy paper towels. When I did this I was about half way thru a big pack of paper towels I had purchased before making the switch and I’m no where near the end. This was easily one of the best money savers I’ve implemented to date. I haven’t calculated my savings yet but I figure I used to buy 3-4 of those big packs of paper towels a year so $40-$60 a year. Now I’m down to buying a 12 pack once a year. When the rags are dirty, unless they were used to clean up something they could ruin my clothes i would usually just throw them right in the wash on a normal setting and I was good to go.

EDIT: Unbelievable! My first Gold on a post! Thank you. I hope this anecdotal bit on my switch from paper to cotton inspires others to do the same and save some green 🤑

No clothes washer right now. How can I clean mops and rags to get rid of previous solutions (vinegar, tile polish).

I’ve been in a pit. Im ashamed and disgusted at how filthy my place has become. Im looking for cleaning products or tips that can help me tidy my apartment up before the year starts. Thanks in advance! Be well.

I work for a family and DB is WFH. His office is right next to the living room/ kitchen area.

I don’t prefer screen time.

Also, all of his toys are in his room and MB wants me to read to him everyday. We play in his room with the door closed because he crawls out into the hallway and doesn’t focus on the toys or books. NF has let me know they want the door open all of the time from now on.

Also in the email:

• starts off saying “thanks for efforts and I would imagine taking care of her like this is not quite the same as babysitting and it has its challenges so thank you!”

• “I encourage you to go online and research interactive activities for 14 month old to get some ideas” I want to remind them I have over 10 years experience, worked in an infant room for over a year and completed 3 years of early childhood education.

• “expectations when NK naps: sweep and mop floors, steam clean her mat, hand wash any rags used, hand wash the mop pad, clean all of her dishes used that day.” They also leave all dirty dishes and bottles for me from when I leave the day before to when I return again in the morning. So, all bottles used from 5pm - 9am next day. NK naps for 1.5-2 hours a day. This is the only time I can eat and take a break as well.

I've been cleaning houses with this lady we'll call Janet for over three years. About half the time I'm working with her and/or another worker, the other half are houses I do on my own that she sets up for me. It's pretty low key, unofficial, under the table work. Technically a sub contractor, but kinda treated more like an employee.

I started a new house on my own through Janet about two months ago. This lady Petunia had broken her leg and needed some temporary help cleaning. Petunia would hand me a sealed envelope with cash labeled for Janet, which I would give to Janet, and Janet would give me my cut of each house I did at the end of the week. Some clients give me cash in hand or a check, sometimes in an envelope, sometimes not. Pretty standard. It's not really my business how much Janet charges each house, but I always try to clock it though, but Petunia was too new so I didn't know.

Petunia was always grateful for my work, and I would do some extra things because she couldn't get out of bed. She asked me if she could pass along my info to friends who may want cleanings. I said, of course! And happily gave her my phone number. I've been trying to branch out and get my own clients to make more money anyway. Then she said something about the tips she's been leaving in the envelopes. I must have looked confused because she asked me if I've been getting them and I said, "No, I don't think so." This is not my first time realizing Janet has stiffed me on tips.

Petunia looked upset. She told me how her and Janet negotiated the rate in the very beginning. Petunia couldn't afford Janet's standard rate of $30 per hour for two hours, so they settled on $25 per hour. Petunia then just put $60 in the envelopes after the first cleaning, with the extra $10 intended for me. Petunia said she told Janet that the extra was meant for me. I told Petunia I would talk to Janet about it and not to worry. I thanked her for bringing it to my attention, and thanked her for the tips anyway.

The next day, before I had a chance to talk to Janet, she actually texted me saying she forgot to give me an extra $5 from Petunia from the last cleaning. I still had the envelope from the previous day's clean. I asked Janet if she had talked to Petunia recently. She said "no" in a tone that was so obviously a lie. She claims she had just realized she forgot about this tip when she was going through her scheduling calender. I told Janet all about my conversation with Petunia. Janet sai

So I guess my sweatshirt fell off the coat rack today. Okay fine. Except it fell into the dirty/wet bar mop bin and no one thought “oh let me take this black sweatshirt that fell into. Pile of white rags out of the bin” so there were roughly 10 soaking wet rags piled on my hoodie by the time I noticed/clocked out. Best part? It’s the only jacket I have with me, it’s 35° and I’m supposed to go to class right now. Needless to say I’m skipping school, going home and drinking myself to sleep. Also might not go back because I already feel so disrespected half the time, and this just adds to it. My sweatshirt is fucking SOAKING wet

I work bad hours. Eight o’clock until three in the morning. Every day during the week. I don’t get sleep. My feet kill me. So do my arms. Constantly carrying a bucket filled with soapy water, and pushing a mop around a colossal building. And I have to empty all of the trash cans, and put new trash bags in them. Boring stuff. I also have to mention my pay. Eleven dollars an hour. Not bad, just not great either. The only good thing about the job is that I get to listen to music while I’m working.

I’ve been wanting to quit my job, and after last night, I cant keep working there.

I get to the museum at around seven forty-five, get changed and then get to work at eight. The museum closes at six, so it’s so weird when I get there. The sky is dark, but not pitch black. It has this weird purplish-gray hue to it. So the whole building has a weird dull color. Most of the lights are off, and the only ones that are on are by the bathrooms and near the exits. Almost all of the exhibit lights are off, but there are some statues and paintings with the lights on them. It’s probably for the guards to check up on. I just show up and do my job. I’ve been working there for the past three months, I don’t think the amount of work I put in is equal to the pay I get, but it’s fine, I’m getting by.

I bike to work, as I can’t afford a car. Plus it’s good exercise.

The museum looked bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. There’s so much space, you couldn’t believe it. Huge halls, lined with tall marble pillars. The ceiling had murals of angels, gods and a bunch of other religious depictions.

It’s crazy how massive the place was. It’s kept under constant security. I can’t even fathom how expensive half the stuff is in this place.

There were some security guards that go by each exhibit, about four or five, and they’d just walk around patrolling the area. It’s nice because it’s not as scary as it would be if I was alone in that place at night. I got to know one of them one night, I forgot his name, we talked about our favorite paintings, and how scary this place is at night. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who was terrified of the looks the statues had on their faces in the dark.

There weren’t any guards this night though.

When I made it to the front door, usually a guard would let me in, but the doors were unlocked. I didn’t have the keys to the place. Only the keys to the bathroom and janitor’s closet.

When I got in, I went straight to the janitors cl

I’m not even sure why I’m writing this. I’ve been to so many therapists and psychologists and even spent two weeks in a hospital for an “evaluation” when I was nineteen, all because I tried to tell someone about this. To ask for help. To beg for help.

I feel like I should start with the fact that I’m not crazy. I’m sure that makes me sound more crazy, but I’m being honest. All I’ve ever wanted is for someone to make this stop, but no one has ever believed me so how could they help me? My parents were some mix of embarrassed and furious that I wouldn’t “just be normal,” and my brother only used the information to alienate me at school. If I ever did mention it, I got yelled at, or grounded, or sent to therapy, or medicated. But none of it — and I mean none of it — has ever helped. The woman has always been there, she’s always waiting, and eventually I learned to just keep my mouth shut.

That’s how I’ve made it to 32 years old. It’s how I graduated college and got a job and most days I can almost pretend I’m like everyone else. Normal, just like my parents always wanted.

But I don’t think I can keep pretending.

I’m just so tired, and I think if I put the truth down here, even if no one reads it, maybe it will help me pretend for just a little longer. Maybe I’ll even find someone else who knows about the woman.

I guess I should start at the beginning, so that you can understand what my life has been like. There’s a picture of me as a baby, I think it was one of those Sears Portrait Studio ones, and in it I’m propped up on this pink blanket, wearing a frilly dress and white patent leather baby shoes. My face is flushed and red and it’s obvious I’ve been crying, which babies often do, but the cameraman was able to catch a moment where I’m looking at the camera and my mouth is closed. From afar it really does look like a normal photograph, but when you look closely at my left sock it’s obvious that the pale reddish smear and red dots aren’t a pattern. The other sock is pristine white, ruffled at the top, with no red.

I think it’s the first documentation of what’s been happening to me all these years, and it’s proof of just how long it’s been going on.

I don’t remember that photo being taken (I think I was 6 months old) but I do remember a few years later when I was three or four and begging my mom to let me go to Sunday School barefoot. It was summertime and I never wore shoes — except when we went to church. She told me no, I threw a tantrum, she start

I don’t really trust cleaning services. No, not as the concept or a business model - rather the people who are involved in it. In my humble opinion they just don’t know how to do the job right. Or are just not really interested in doing It good. And trust me - I’ve booked quite a number of them previously.

It all began with an argument I had with my wife. She’s one of those who think that once you’ve married a man - you can relax and leave all the attempts to impress the guy. Who shows a bait to a fish already caught, right? That was the logic.

I, on other hand, was raised in a family with strong conservative traditions. The man should bring money to the house and the wife should greet him in a cozy, tidy house with warm food on the table. Well, not exactly like that - we are living in the modern times and I’m not a chauvinist, but when she said that she doesn’t want to clean and why wouldn’t we pay some trained people to do it for us - it sent my lid flying.

We argued for couple of hours. Why would I pay hard earned cash for things that should be done naturally. I would understand if she had a share in bringing money home or taking care about a child, but all her day was chatting with her girlfriends and reading horoscopes on Facebook.

So I slammed the door, as I put my jacket on - I had to cool off. And I came back with a plan. Without saying a word I’ve picked up a hoover, a mop and cleaning chemicals - a man got to do what a man got to do to prove his point.

Three hours later the house was shining. I turned and watched at her, as she was giving me a look with her raised eyebrows, like saying: “And? What’s your point?”.

Next thing I did - picked up the phone and gave a call to a cleaning company. I entered the number from the notepad lying near. At least she did her homework and wrote down couple of numbers of services that looked reliable to her.

After brief talk and two hours later a doorbell ringed and I hurried to let the visitor in - it was a middle-aged woman with some equipment and wearing some sort of uniform jumpsuit and pair of thick glasses. We greeted each other and I let her do her job.

I was sitting in the kitchen, reading some news on my laptop when she knocked on opened door frame slightly.

“Oh hey. Can I help you with something?” - I’ve asked with my regular smile.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Doe, but is this some sort of a joke?” - she asked fumbling a microfiber rag in her hands.

“Uh, what do

A friend of mine worked at Panera bread for a short period and swears he was told to mop the walls. Is this common or was he just being pranked by his coworkers? None of us believe him because it’s so hilarious.

I haven't got a legendary in quite a bit but the free packs from the release event and brawl I got. Both ragnaroses... Ragnarosi?? And Tirion.

I have made a deck I'll post later. It's basically divine shield token with all the rags (including majordomo) and Tirion.

Will you guys Help me brain storm to have a fun deck that won't suck using my new pally cards?

I might even go for a dragon style to do Domo Alex combo...

Since I see a lot of the same types of posts here every day, I’m writing this as a one-stop reference for info about detection/monitoring, treatment and mindset/outlook.

##Disclosure:

The subject of this post involves the use of pesticides, substances, devices, methods and/or actions that have the potential to be injurious and/or fatal to oneself, other individuals and/or animals. ANY action you take in relation to this post (and/or any post, comment and/or communication attributable to me) is done entirely at your own risk.

I am NOT a medical professional, scientist or pest control expert, and I do NOT possess any kind of accreditation or qualifications. I make NO guarantees in regards to the factual accuracy of any aspect of this post (and/or any post, comment and/or communication attributable to me). NONE of the content in this post (and/or any post, comment and/or communication attributable to me) constitutes medical advice, or has been verified for factual accuracy by a qualified party.

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ALRIGHT ALREADY… here we go.

#Introduction ##Tuning your mindset

Your first step should always be to take a second to collect yourself. Right now, take a second to breathe.

Practice emotional self-care and self-regulation. You are the descendant of a long line of people who managed to survive in a harsh world—I promise you, you have more strength and resilience than you realize. You will persevere.

Remind yourself of the following perspective: if you do have them, you will deal with it. If you follow appropriate protocol, you will be victorious at some point in the future. That’s what you’re facing here: a practical issue with a practical solution. Life will go on.

Note: improper/inadequate treatment methods will make the problem worse—it will take longer, be more expensive to treat, and consume more of your energy in the process.

The Failing Union:

Floyd B. Olson was never supposed to be the President. Yet on January 20th, 1937 he took the podium at the Capitol Building and recited the oath of office. His inauguration had been a somber one. Boycotted by the HCP and SPA, the crowd was full of hopeful and skeptical moderates alike. On the podium he was flanked to one side by his coalition partners. Outgoing President Hoover, Vice President Roosevelt, Speaker Garner, and Senate Leader McNary. To the other side stood, in full military regalia, the iron fist part of his popular slogan “the iron fist within a velvet glove”. Chief of Staff Douglas MacArthur, General Dwight Eisenhower, and Admiral William Leahy looked as stoic and emotionless as possible.

“My fellow Americans,” Olson began, “a nation cannot be preserved which does not preserve its citizens. Industry is reducing wages, lowering the standard of living, reducing buying power, and sending honest Americans into the arms of radical groups that want to tear our beloved nation apart. This cannot be how we solve our economic problems. Each and every American has a duty, a duty to family and home yes, but also a duty to their country. To the ideals our Founders espoused to us, the ideals of democracy, civility, security, and brotherhood. As your President I vow to you that I will restore our national brotherhood, and ensure that the common American can not only survive but prosper under our sacred democracy! I vow to you that as long as I, or any true American with idealism in their heart holds this office, America shall remain as One Nation Indivisible!” Thunderous applause followed Olson’s speech. With the news that his stomach cancer is in remission, he strode into office reinvigorated amidst protests from syndicalists and hardliners.

President Floyd B. Olson Delivers his Inaugural Speech

President Olson’s first priority in office was to end the general strike launched by the SPA that had been going on since his election. He sent an invitation to Senator Haywood to sit down and negotiate. Haywood held a firm grip over the Combined Syndicates of America, the massive union that most laborers in America were apart of. Some in Olson’s diverse Cabinet were opposed to negotiation or compromise of any kind, but he believed that civil compromise was the only way to save America. Big Bill Haywood

Short and sweet.

Working for a cleaning company that sends out groups of cleaners to several houses a day.

Middle manager comes up with a great idea. When we are washing floors on hands and knees (required of every kitchen and bathroom) we are supposedly leaving dirt behind. To remedy this she says everytime you go to dunk your rag or it gets dirty just get a clean rag so there won't be any leftover debris and shit.

We don't even bother telling her how many rags this will take since she's always talking down to us and using this super cheerful overly fake voice.

Next day we just get to business, rags even a little dirty, grab a new one. The team assistant loaded way more rags than usual, we were ready. We used an ungodly amount of rags than day but we was just following orders.

Come back at end of shift training manager sees our laundry bag and is like what the fuck are you doing out there? We tell her genius middle managers plan. Next morning we and middle manager are told not to do that again.

Hated that company.

My boyfriend (22m) and I (24f) have been together for 4 years and started living together 6 months ago. Some days ago I was cleaning our apartment because he was having some friends over the next day. He never cleans around here even though he used to help out his mom living in his parents' house, but that day he said he'd help me. I asked him to clean the bathroom because he always leaves hair, toothpaste, splashes and dirt everywhere, and I thought it'd be nice if he could see how dirty he leaves the bathroom every day and maybe he'd realize it and be more considerate (I had mentioned this to him a few times over the months, but he didn't do anything about it). I went to wash the dishes and left him alone. I then realized that he would probably need a cleaning cloth (I leave them hanging on a line outside), but he said he already had one, so I just thought I had forgotten one in the bathroom and brushed it off.

10 minutes later, he shouted that he was done. Impressed by his speed, I went to check on his work and saw that all he'd done was clean the toilet and sweep (poorly) the floor. I asked him why he hadn't cleaned the sink, or the mirror, or the shower, or hadn't mopped the floor, to which he said that he didn't want to spend the whole day cleaning and had better things to do (watch TV). I didn't see any cleaning cloth around, so I asked him what cloth and cleaning products he'd used on the toilet. Turns out he didn't use any products and "cleaned" the toilet with the rag I use to clean floors. I got angry at this point and asked him why he hadn't asked me which products to use, to which he replied that the toilet doesn't need any products. I tried explaining to him that it does, but he argued that it looks clean, therefore it is clean. I told him that he could've asked for my help or any instructions, but he said this is the way he does things, and he doesn't care about me commanding him and shouldn't have to listen to me. I told him that the toilet (and, well, the whole bathroom) had to be cleaned again, but he said he'd already cleaned it and wasn't going to do it again, and that I should be grateful that he's even willing to help. I explained to him that it's not "help" if I have to clean everything after him again. He, already angry as well, repeated that the bathroom looks fine and if I don't like something, that's my problem. He called me ungrateful, bitter and a control freak, and said that all I do is complain and I'm never satisfied wit

I moved out from my parents 6 years ago, have been living in my own since and I never really learned how to properly take care of my own place. Things like, how often should I use new bedsheets, how often should I clean my shower & toilet, how often do I dust my stuff? Also, how to clean furniture, tables etc. - I always use one-way wipes, but that's not very economically friendly. I know this sounds stupid, but, I never really learned this.

Is there something like a comprehensive guide for this?

First part: https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/s2nk24/conjunction_part_1/

***

Caden leaned over the yellowed parchment as the Master gestured to the map that had been drawn onto the aged scroll. It showed the world as it had been known at the time, the continents and landmasses oddly shaped, not quite true to their real-world dimensions. They were still recognizable, but it didn’t exactly fill Caden with confidence. The Master had placed a more modern map beside it and was using it as a reference to make better sense of what they were seeing, turning to his mountain of notes as he translated the place names.

“Our kingdom did not exist during the fourth age,” he began. “The territory that we now inhabit was home to several smaller city-states. It is hard to say whether these coastlines have changed significantly over time, or if the cartographers of the era simply did a poor job of reproducing them. The borders of our kingdom end here,” he said, gesturing to the old map with his bony finger. “Although we are on good terms with neighboring powers, the roads can be treacherous. In these trying times, banditry is on the rise, and the more remote areas are reported to be plagued by highwaymen.”

“That is why you thought it necessary to arm me,” Caden muttered, his mentor replying with a solemn nod.

“Avoid the cities and large towns as you head East. Follow the roads, the more well-trodden, the better. There are many small villages and hamlets along the route where you might seek shelter in taverns and inns. Remember, you must not advertise the nature of your quest. Tell no one who you are or where you are headed. Assume a new identity if you must.”

He slowly dragged his finger to the right, referencing the modern map as he went.

“This land bridge connects our continent to the Eastern peninsula. From there, our knowledge grows spotty.”

Caden looked over the parchment, the depictions of green forests and hills gradually giving way to sandy deserts and barren wilderness.

“There are other kingdoms even further East that are said to be civilized,” he continued, “but this expanse of desert is oft-rumored to be inhabited by tribes of savages and feral beasts that have made establishing trade routes over land impossible. None now venture there, save for a few brave explorers who have brought back word of harsh conditions and hostile natives.”

“And...my destination is right in the middl

I read the rules and I don't think I am breaking any of them by writing this. If so sorry.

I used to work as the main guy for donations for a thrift store back in like 2010 until 2013 and I just wanted to remind all of you guys about stuff so that you can stay safe when you shop.

No clothes are washed. No store washes, cleans, or even brushes off any single piece of clothing. Most of the time pockets are checked for money of valuables, but that is it. Make sure that you thoroughly wash every single item, even brand new ones before you wear them. I wouldn't even try on clothing in the store if there is an exchange allowed. Wash it first. You would be absolutely shocked and disgusted what sometimes gets donated that they end up putting on the floor. It is not uncommon at all for a bag to be all soggy and wet with mold and rat poop etc all over it and if one of those items in that bag looks good enough, it gets a tag and out it goes. So wash your clothing at least once if not twice before wearing it. Take a bunch of pictures of it with the tag attached before you remove the tag to wash it though because some stores are dicks and won't let you return if the tag is off. If you have proof many wont care.

Never buy any item that is on the ground, fallen on the ground or article of clothing that when on the rack is touching the ground, like pants, coats or belts etc. The ground is gross. Like so beyond gross. Most of the cleaning implements are 10+ years old and smell worse than any backwoods truck stop outhouse you could imagine. I know a lot of stores, mine included, never once paid for cleaning products. So you used whatever was donated. Sometimes we were lucky and had actual floor cleaner to use to mop the floors, but I would say 75% of the time it was whatever we had. Sometimes oven cleaner. Sometimes diluted bleach. Sometimes upholstery shampoo. The things cleaned off the ground can be anything from bodily fluids, to dog poo, to whatever else horrible you can think of. So if it touches the ground, and is not made to be on the ground like furniture don't risk it.

Always check the pockets carefully. I have found so many used needles, bloody Band-Aids, snot rags, knives, razor blades etc etc etc it would shock you. Check all clothing pockets. When you're done checking all of them check again. Then look for pockets in places you wouldn't think there would be one. There is a surprising amount of hidden pockets on clothing. Check shoes for pockets. There a

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

(Mild self-harm warning)

As Isaac continued to lead the tour with slightly more pep than before, I sat quietly, never leaving my seat nor speaking a single word. After helplessly witnessing a man get electrocuted to death only for everyone to laugh about his gruesome fate, my mind was largely numb, simply struggling to not replay the scene over and over on a loop. Even as Isaac shocked more unfortunate beasts into showing themselves while the tour progressed, I was a ghost among the jovial heathens, despite my heart thundering in my chest with each zap and subsequent cry of pain.

Additionally, Isaac’s satisfied grin as the rich man convulsed and cooked burned itself into my mind like a brand onto a heifer’s hide. No matter how desperately I tried to rid myself of it, the image was a scar among my self-numbing brain. I merely wished for the tour to conclude, so that I could leave Isaac’s side without offending him. I feared what he would do otherwise.

Finally, after a couple hours, we left the open safari area and entered an exhibition known as the ‘Curious Wonders.’ From feeding and my notes, I knew the creatures housed here were of either the most unique or the most ‘entertaining’ variety. Still, I had not seen them all, as a few had hidden themselves among their décor during breakfast, but I knew Isaac wouldn’t allow them to hide for the patrons’ presence. More would be blatantly electrocuted, and I would feel my stomach curl into tighter knots. Inevitably, I would feel the cold claws of helpless compassion grip my soul all over, again and again.

Blankly, I stared as Isaac quickly showcased a snake with two heads and spiked scales that glittered like solid gold. I did nothing while he talked about two furballs which comically rolled and jumped like cartoons. And even as he boasted about the cat-ape named Ginko I had read about upon my initial arrival, I barely looked at the beast. None of them phased me. None of the strange, unique creatures ripped my mind away from itself, until we came to the middle of the division.

Instinctively, my eyes landed on its visage as it moved in my periphery from behind its glass