The world is certainly wetter than before, but that does not make the Great Basin any less difficult to farm. All but the most resistant crops struggle here, and seasonal rains often create shallow brine pools which breed mosquitoes of a most horrible sort. While people can't eat it, the land is fine for growing hay, so ranching has been the primary means of agriculture in the Basin.
The people here seem to be taking well to the Lake Tahoe Division Teams. They've kept a tradition of football for recreation, but it has to have been decades or more since anyone has seen professional veterans of the Game.
After a short search by State Security agents, there does not seem to be a Chinese person in any of the new towns to join California though evidence of several abandoned houses suggest this has not always been the case. Residents asked about these houses generally told agents that their former occupants were "kind folk, but jumpy" and that the houses had been abandoned for about six months. There is no record of KMT agents having been active this far east, but desperation may have driven some out this way.
I the Magyars seem to have passed through Kiev; were the Kievan's at the time under Varangian rule? (I've read about the Varangians setting up governments over the local Slavic peoples, whether by request or not, I'm unsure).
And prior to their migration, did the Magyar come from nearer the baltic coast, or did they originate nearer the Arctic Circle. Their language's closet European relative is Finnish, but they're considered Uralic languages, did they perhaps come from nearer the Ural Mountains?) I misread/remembered this. It's Urgic, not Uralic, but the language group seems to straddle the Ural Mountains, and seems to be part of an larger language tree known as Uralic
Bonus question: What spurred their migration? Many cultures pushed west from the steppes, and at different times, such as the Huns. I've read as well that some Hungarians claim their culture descends from the Huns, in some way, and that the city of Buda (before becoming Budapest) was named after Atilla's brother Bleda), could their migrations be related, even if 300 years apart?
Can you legally shoot there? I’ve heard some say they get fined, others say they’re up there all the time.
The only conclusive evidence says that you cannot shoot within 100 yards of the Sultan Basin Highway.
I apologize if this is too many questions in a title, I have no idea if there is a rule against it or not.
We turned around to where the Oasis was, a clear mist was rising up into the sky settling into a deep grey cloud, as the constant wind caught it, the cloud was dragged away towards a Tor where it gathered and began to fall.
“Shall we have a look?” Snow asks
I nod and quickly summon my Sparrow and race off up the dunes to the Oasis. Stopping atop the dune before it I look down into the basin as Rock warblers bathe in the pools, a Sandcrawler is dragging its snout through the dirt it's rough chitin flaking off revealing smooth dark scales beneath.
“It's breathing life into the planet.” Snow says watching at the silver tree, its branches poking just above the dune top. Mist was falling from the branches and steam was rising in equal measure.
“Jesus those things are fast.” Nepp says catching up to us. Nut curiously flying along with her.
“They’re also dangerous.” I reply, leaping down the dune and blinking forwards towards the tree.
The Animals look at me but don't attack, more interested in sifting for grubs and drinking the water. I reach the tree and watch it pulse with light, roots visibly growing, burrowing down into the planet.
Reaching forwards I touch the tree’s spiralling root feeling it lightly shift under my hand slowly. The tree is alive, healthy and happy to be doing its duty.
On a whim I funnel a bit of light into the root and watch as it ripples along the tree before a small pulse of light flows through the ground, as it travels the plants shiver and the Oasis grows noticeable.
Snow and Nepp watch the change before continuing towards me. I give them a wave before placing my hand back on the tree and feeding it more light. The more I feed it the faster I feel its roots flow underneath, through the tree I feel them snake through the sand until they touch bedrock and after anchoring themselves into the hard stone hundreds of metres beneath us, stop growing.
I feel another source of light join me in feeding the tree and briefly look over to see Snow, eyes closed and gently glowing as he feeds his own light into the tree.
I feel the wind passing through the branches dry and harsh on one side, cool and moist on the other as water is simply created and introduced into the world.
I don't know how long I baske
... keep reading on reddit ➡
“Please, don’t kneel,” the god said. He was shorter than she expected, and he was holding both hands out - as if she were nothing more than a scared animal.
But Agraneia couldn’t bring herself to her feet. Clouds of mist sizzled and hissed against the underside of the bridge, rising up and painting her scales with droplets of water.
“I thought you were a lie,” Agra whispered, softer than the mist.
“That depends on what you believe.”
All that liquid metal, all those long, wiry ribbons were sliding back over each other, collapsing onto his body. His surprisingly thin body. Agraneia was a full head taller than him, and where she had muscle and bulk, he was as spindly as a sapling tree. The scales on his face - no, the skin - was a deep, richness that shone anywhere from earthen black to shiny magenta. Unlike her scales, there was no sharp change of color. A smooth transition, across the perfect planes of his face. The browns of his forearms, the clay colors of his fingers, tapering to the light tan of his open palms - still trying to calm her.
Next to him, her own glittering scales felt cheap and gaudy, somehow.
And all that metal, writhing over the strange fabric of his clothing. A living thing? Or some extension of his body? It moved like another layer of skin, rippling with some inaudible heartbeat.
Easier to bow her head, than to look directly at him and wonder at all that quiet, dangerous power.
“Where is Eolh?” There was concern in the god’s voice. “Is he here?”
Agraneia found that she couldn’t move. Her mind was flooded with the stories and legends. The gods who rose up, and destroyed their makers. The gods who warred with each other over meaningless slights. The gods who, with a simple glance, could turn you to dust.
“It’s okay,” the god said. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not what you think I am.”
Her head jerked up, a pang of worry in her chest, “You can see into my mind?”
“No,” the god laughed. A gentle, scratching music. “You’re not the first cyran I’ve met. Nor the first believer.”
“Believer?” she echoed. In some circles of cyran culture, that was an insult. Among the officers and the upper echelons. She said it, before she cou
... keep reading on reddit ➡“Be sure that you’re sure,” Kirine’s voice was ragged, and his wounds were worse. The cyran politician had aged a decade in the last three hours.
He was lying on the concrete ring that encircled the gate. The mile-wide basin of the Grid opened up around them, and the walls of mist just beyond. Here, there was no wind, and the air itself felt almost too dry to breathe. Yet, despite the warmth, the politician was wrapped up in three layers of coats and cloaks, some loaned from the Scribe and from Eolh. His teeth chattered slightly as he spoke, and sweat dripped down his forehead, collecting on the silvery scales that outlined his eyes.
“Say nothing you don’t want him to remember. The Emperor is the Everlord for a reason. No one lives forever by luck. He knows what he’s doing, at all times. You cannot catch him off guard, no matter how much you think you have. He knows what he wants, and he knows what you can give him.”
“I will try.” Poire said.
“And if you have the chance, stay silent. The Emperor has always been our foremost politician. And we do love the sound of our voices. You will gain more by letting him speak.”
“I think I understand.”
"Please," Kirine reached out a hand, struggling to extricate it from underneath all his grimey, well-travelled layers. “Help the ones who cannot help themselves."
The whole squad watched as Poire put his hand on the terminal, and began to speak to the Keeper. His lips did not move. And no one heard anything, except for Poire’s two words: “Connect us.”
Eolh, with a cutting glare. Kirine, with desperate hope. And Agraneia, whose face was a wall of un-emotion. Laykis’ hands were folded before her, her unmoving body staring straight ahead. All of them, standing out of sight of Poire’s camera.
A face appeared in the air, above the terminal.
The Emperor’s red lips cracked into a wide smile that might be charming on anyone else. But if it reached his eyes, Poire could not see, for an ornate, mechanical mask obscured everything from his metal-wrapped nose, and above. One eye was an empty socket of metal, the other was a staggered series of glowing slits. The rest of the mask was all hard planes and curving edges, with nodes and sensors and hard-cut wires making deep cracks in the metal. The cracks ran in lines up his scalp, or aro
... keep reading on reddit ➡I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.
Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.
First off, thank you all for your advice and well wishes. It hasn’t gotten better, I’ll tell you that. I’m now trying to figure out what to do about this whole situation, but before I get too far ahead, I’d like to go back to where I left off.
After finding a box of three 8mm films in an abandoned house in the woods, I watched the first one titled “Family BBQ”. I will now start referring to the person who filmed these simply as “The Cameraman”.
I sat in my room in silence, thinking about what I just watched. I removed the film from the projector and placed it back into the box. Unsure if this was real, I reluctantly grabbed the second film named “Woodwork”.
I then made myself another drink, set the projector up with the new film, and sat down to watch.
This one started with a grainy shot of someone’s backyard on a sunny day. There was a work crew cutting trees down in the yard, and also some other guys setting up a wood chipper in the far left corner of the frame.
The man behind the camera was documenting the work at his new house. Saying something about how he wanted to see the “progress coming along”.
Once he was done explaining what he was planning to do with his yard, he gave a tour of his newly renovated house. It was a secluded ranch that was built on a slight hill, so it allowed the house to have a second floor & garage beneath the main level.
He went through the house, finally recording the rest of the family. It was just him and his son by the look of it.
After having a conversation with his kid and finishing the tour of the house, the film cut.
It was now almost dark outside. The weird music I heard from the last film was playing again. The large, yellow wood chipper was now center frame, running. The camera then slowly panned to the right, showing the father and son, both gagged and tied up by some type of metal wire.
Their wrists were profusely bleeding from how tight the wire was. I could see both of them struggling to break free, with their attempts remaining unsuccessful.
The Cameraman then walked into frame this time. He was at least 6’5” and looked to be around 250 pounds. He was wearing a long black trench coat. Something about his build appeared strange. His movements appeared as if they were inverted. Like he was kind of moving in revers
... keep reading on reddit ➡The Kaedweni tribesmen have long wandered Volksatte, but their home has always been the foothills of Loc Vergen where they have tended herds of sheep and cattle for generations.
Map with capital of Caer Muirwydd marked in Gold.
Banner of Angor Liaftet, Chosen King of the Kaedweni, and Bannerholder of the Unicorn Dynasty.
A cartographer sets out on a mission of discovery, mapping a strange, foreign continent full of exotic beasts and mysterious natives at the behest of his employer. The further he heads Westward, the more bizarre his journey gets, the very land itself somehow becoming twisted and blighted. Despite the danger, he is compelled to press on by a plea for help from a stranger who believes that he may be her people's only hope of salvation.
Longhunter is a fantasy western that features action, romance, and horror elements.
Please note: this story contains adult content which will be tagged on a per-chapter basis.
CHAPTER 1: INTO THE UNKNOWN
“Over here!” George shouted, clambering his way up the rocky outcrop. He turned to glance back at his companions, loose pebbles tumbling down the slope behind him as he dug his boots into the loose earth for purchase. They were an expedition thirty-strong, mostly trappers and traders, clad in the rough leathers and furs of their profession. The men were laden with backpacks and gear, guiding a procession of horses along with them, the animals similarly encumbered. One of their number broke ranks, scaling the grassy hill to join him, George reaching out a hand to catch him as he lost his footing for a moment.
“Careful there, Sam,” George chuckled as he steadied his friend by the tasseled sleeve of his jacket. Sam looked out at the view beyond, a rolling plain of grassland that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was pristine, untouched by the industry that was slowly encroaching Westward. They were out in the wilderness now. They hadn’t encountered so much as a homestead or a fort for days.
“Well I’ll be,” Sam muttered, reaching up to straighten his wide-brimmed hat. “Just how long do you reckon it goes on for?”
“Guess we’re going to find out,” George replied.
Another of the men climbed up to join them, pausing for a moment to take a swig from the canteen that was hanging from his belt. He narrowed his eyes as he looked out over the sun-baked plain, squinting against the sunlight. Dawes was the leader of their group, a grizzled veteran who had spent more time on the frontier than all of the other men combined. His face was as leathery as the coat that he wore, tanned and wrinkled by the elements, his bushy beard reaching the fur lining of his collar.
“Lotta open ground,” he grumbled, reaching into a leather pouch on his hip. He withdrew an ornate compass,
... keep reading on reddit ➡The Beginning | Wiki Page | Fifth Part | Seventh Part
“And Isilda can cover the Prairieton call… again… she’s got the skills for it,” I said to Pokle as I pointed around our scheduling book. “That’s three weeks open, should be enough to account for assorted disasters and stuff. Are you sure you can take care of Varia and Grif while managing the place?”
“No problem,” Pokle answered with a telling lack of confidence. She looked at my equally evocative face. “Hey, cheer up! You’re knocking out the biggest favor on the ledger!”
I let the change of subject slide as I pursed my lips further. “It only counts if I come back alive to strike it off the page. Going off what I know so far, it’s something nasty.”
“Oh come on, boss, you’ve dealt with some tough stuff in your time. How bad could it be?”
My eyes bulged. “Don’t fucking say it out loud dummy! That phrase never helped anybody!”
“Right, sorry. I forget you’re superstitious like that.” Her tone was apologetic solely out of obligation.
I repressed the urge to strangle her, considering I have a LITERAL GHOST IN MY HOUSE, and there are ACTUAL GODS LISTENING IN SOMETIMES and those gods are BORED! Instead, I wandered over to my office and finished the latest version of my will, just in case. After throwing it in my drawer, I sighed and decided that I wanted a drink. I got my dusty bottle of sweet rum and poured a glass.
That particular mood didn’t last. I’d stopped at one drink by the time Greesly leaned into my office. “Someone wants to talk to you,” he said.
“Alright, make it quick. I’m expecting a call.”
To my surprise, it wasn’t someone I despised walking through that door. It was Cameron!
“Whoa hey, Cam. What’s up?” I stood to shake his hand.
He gripped my palm with some major muscle. “Not much, man, I thought I’d swing by to catch up.”
“Oh, it’s a terrible time for that. You’ll have to make it quick, I’m about to get real busy.”
He stopped to mull over his next words. “Alright, umm. The gist is… adventuring sucks. I’ve almost died three times and only leveled up twice! I want a job—from you—that pays bills and grinds XP like you said it does.”
At that moment, Pokle rounded th
... keep reading on reddit ➡I was reading the NJO (and beyond) AU fanfiction by YodaKenobi on tf.n. And there comes a point where (spoilers for the fic series) >!all but 13 Jedi Knights/Masters are wiped out, along with most of the apprentices etc by a Sith called Darth Malig. !<
The following is Luke's response to this (written in 2012, just saying). Read the full chapter and ignore context if you want, but this is the key bit. Skip to the end if you must for the most important part (I've marked it out and its in the comments because character counts)
>The fire popped and crackled as its blue cinders collapsed, sending sheaves of glowing embers and flickering motes of ash swirling above the lashing ribbons of orange flame into the cold night sky, where one by one they dimmed and went out, just like...
>
>Jaina let the thought trail off, feeling cold and empty again.
>
>How long had it been since she had been staring into another campfire on a beach far from Tatooine? Fourteen hours? Twenty?
>
>She couldn't be sure. But in that time, everything had changed.
>
>Darth Malig had won. The Jedi were destroyed. And all was lost...
>
>It didn't seem real somehow. In the year since this war had begun, Jaina had never really thought that they would fail. The Light always triumphed in the end, didn't it? The heroes won and the villains were vanquished, right? Like with the Empire. Like with the Yuuzhan Vong. That was the way it was supposed to be. As cynical and guarded as Jaina could often be, she was surprised to find in the depths of her own soul that she truly believed this.
>
>So how had everything gone so terribly wrong? How could Darth Malig have defeated them so completely? How could the Jedi lose the very thing they were fighting so hard to protect?
>
>The answer, of course, was that Jaina, and all the others had been wrong.
>
>Sometimes the villains did win.
>
>Sometimes heroes died.
>
>Whatever balance had once governed the Force was gone. It was as if Malig had snuffed out the light in the galaxy as easily as he might have a candle in the night.
>
>And the galaxy had fallen into darkness.
>
>Jaina shivered.
>On the other side of the fire some five meters away, Leia Organa Solo sat in
... keep reading on reddit ➡Jordan Ratcliffe was 16-years-old in August of 2008. He was reported to be a well-known and well-liked young man who had grown up in Moston. He attended the North Manchester School for Boys and was a huge fan of his football team: Manchester United. He stood at 5'5" (1.65m) tall, roughly medium build, and had ginger hair with brown eyes.
On August 31, 2008, Jordan was with his Aunt Kimberley Pierce. Jordan had lived with his aunt since he was only 20 months old, but things were changing at his Aunt's home. Pierce was in the process of moving Jordan's grandfather into their home, as he had recently become ill and required a caregiver. Pierce was to be that caregiver. Jordan had planned to spend some time at a hostel in Manchester while his aunt cared for his grandfather. The Manchester Evening News reports, "[I] think he was a bit of a troubled teenager who had gone to stay in this hostel because his grandad was not in good health with all of the intentions of moving back home."
At about 16:45 that evening, his aunt and her boyfriend dropped Jordan off in Tib Street in the Northern Quarter. He wore a black and grey jacket, black Nike tracksuit bottoms, and black trainers (tennis shoes). Jordan was traveling light; he only had a small black rucksack, a package of crisps, and £5 in cash.
"Call me when you get yourself settled," Aunt Kimberly Pierce had said as he exited the vehicle.
Jordan waved goodbye to his aunt with a smile, heading in the direction of the hostel he was to stay at, Men's Direct Hostel in Longsight. He never arrived.
Because Pierce had not expected to hear from Jordan immediately, she didn't panic when she failed to hear from him that evening. Days passed without word, and by September 8th, the family had notified Manchester Police of the missing teen.
Julie Potts of the Greater Manchester Police's Missing Person Unit has been working on the case since its initial report. In the decades since Jordan's disappearance, Potts has carried out numerous checks to try and trace the teen. She states, "He has been gone for ten years and I will guess everyone knows that. The £20,000 reward is still out there. But there are no othe
... keep reading on reddit ➡Do your worst!
I'm surprised it hasn't decade.
He thinks he’s quiet, but I can hear him. Paws slap on wooden slats, a low guttural growl cuts through the silence of the night. I hide in the corner of the pantry as the beast approaches, his breath quickens with excitement, knowing I’m near. The Devourer, we call him. His hunger is never satisfied, filling his gullet with the flesh and bone of my kin.
His shadow spills into the threshold and a shiver creeps down my spine. My mind goes numb with fear, the stench of it fills his nostrils and enraptures his blood lust. He’s close now… his black fur smooth and sleek, claws out and teeth bared. My legs quiver with the urge to run, but not yet… not yet. The timing must be perfect or else…
He draws closer, I don’t risk moving an inch. Is this my end? Has my reckoning come to pass? Does death dare to collect me now?
God showed mercy on me then, a sound erupts from the kitchen. The ice maker settling in the fridge, dropping cubes into the basin. The creature turns his head to look back just for a second, giving me the window I needed to escape.
I scurry as quickly as my legs would take me, running faster than I ever have. He recoils in surprise, another hesitation, a terrible mistake on his part. I’m already outside the doorway and halfway through the kitchen before he gives chase.
The sound of him hurdling behind me fills my ears with thunder, but I never look back. A high-speed murder machine quickly closes the distance, right on my heels. I can almost feel his hot breath on my neck, but I’m almost there. Almost to safety.
But just as quickly as hope had lit my path, it had suddenly been snuffed out. A searing pain streaked across my back until I felt my spine snap in two with a sickening crack, and then nothing… I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel my legs. The monster came to lay beside me, licking his paws smugly. He began to purr as the bell jingled around his neck. Mr. Sprinkles was stamped in ruby red lettering on his collar. The beast took his time with his victory bath as I waited now, in this catatonic state, for him to finish his meal.
For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.
I said "hey look, an escaPEA"
No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!
Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂
It really does, I swear!
My wife breaks the news, “the Smiths have backed out of buying the house. I uh, couldn't get them to tell me why, sorry.”
My sheriff's uniform is stiff, too much starch Margaret, but I don't say that. Instead, I sigh, thank her for everything, and sit down for some pancakes. She's more concerned about them backing out than I am. They just seemed too skittish for my taste. Probably would've converted the basement into a meth lab and tried to break some bad.
Our daughter Shelly is with her friends in the living room, snickering at whatever they're looking at on their phones. Packed suitcases for her summer at Grandma's stationed by the door. Ready whenever I am, which is soon.
Marge pours me a coffee and I ask, “so the sleepover went well?” “You slept right through it so you tell me Andy,” I snort in approval. Don't remember the names of her friends, which means they grew up good girls. It's only troublemakers that ever stand out to me.
I dig in, and that first bite is always bliss. My wife is better than I deserve. She's better than this awful house deserves! Water bill is always double everyone else's, electrical stuff is always on the fritz, and Shelly's night terrors started here at this ranch-style abomination.
I check my watch, “did they call this morning?” “Yes sir, just got off the phone with them while you were in the shower.” It wasn't a long shower either. Haven't dared take one of those in six years. Not since the first bill came in. Tried to dig a well, but surveyors found not a single drop available. As if the land itself was too thirsty.
I let it all sink in before continuing, “well, at least there wasn't an accident or a murder this time.”
Marge shakes her head darkly, “this place is too beautiful to be cursed, but some days,” she lets the words hang in the air. I finish up eating, transfer my coffee to my lucky travel mug, and call out to the girls. Shelly has an airplane to catch.
We pack up and get a move on without a hitch. The department provided me with a spacious four-door. It's new enough to not smell like a drunk man's vomit, but that's because I let the deputies take those calls. It's good for them I tell myself, and I'm sure when I was a deputy the sheriff thought the same thing.
One of the girls, dressed for summer and not much else, wants to ask about our house's history. “Hey, Mr. Woods?” I meet her gaze with my own through the rearview and correct her before she continues.
“Sheriff.” She seems a little put off by this
... keep reading on reddit ➡Because she wanted to see the task manager.
Heard they've been doing some shady business.
Scientists spend so much time looking for water on other planets because without water, there’s no life. It’s vital to have a homestead water plan. Lacking an alternate plan to running water can be a life-or-death mistake.
Many homesteaders look for land with a source of freshwater for this very reason. An established homestead may have running water. However, if a water pump stops working or you encounter another problem, an alternative water source can keep animals healthy and crops growing.
Of course, when you make a homestead water plan, a lot of factors need to be considered. Not every farm or home is the same, therefore there is no single homestead water plan that will work for everybody.
Reasons for Having a Homestead Water Plan
From hurricanes to ice storms, drought to social upheaval, there are many reasons a family could find themselves without running water.
I live in a region where thunderstorms and blizzards are the most common reasons for power outages and therefore the lack of running water. In either circumstance, there’s still water everywhere around me. Still, it’s useless if I don’t have a plan for harvesting it.
Frozen or broken pipes, and even plumbing maintenance or repairs can cause you to be without running water, too.
If you live in a drought-prone area, having a plan to capture and use water is even more vital for tough times.
Factors to Consider
1. Drinking Water
CDC guidelines recommend keeping 3-gallons of water per person on hand in case of an emergency. That’s a gallon a day for 3 days, enough to cook, drink, and do some basic cleaning with. While it’s a good starting point, there are many other things to think about.
Obviously, the guideline is that you should calculate the number of people in your household times 3-gallons. However, factors such as the ages of members of the house and health conditions could affect the amount that is appropriate per person.
If you are caring for an elderly family member or young children, there can be extra messes that require cleaning. So keeping extra water on hand just for cleaning is prudent.
2. Animals and Plants
All animals require water to drink, so you will need to know approximately how much water they consume per day. Some animals drink more water during the hot months, so it’s good to be prepared for the high end of their daily needs rather than the average.
Drought
... keep reading on reddit ➡They’re on standbi
Pilot on me!!
https://imgur.com/a/Qg9gwD5/
So this thing was flush with (or a hair below) the ground level, with rocks on top.
I went outside to check it tonight after heavy rains here in DC and it has popped up way above the ground.
What the heck? How do I fix this?
I paid to have this done; did they miss doing something here or is it natural for something like this to happen?
We did drill a hole in the bottom of it to try to drain water and avoid standing water. Is that the issue? The water is lifting it out of the hole?
but then I remembered it was ground this morning.
Edit: Thank you guys for the awards, they're much nicer than the cardboard sleeve I've been using and reassures me my jokes aren't stale
Edit 2: I have already been made aware that Men In Black 3 has told a version of this joke before. If the joke is not new to you, please enjoy any of the single origin puns in the comments
Nothing, he was gladiator.
Or would that be too forward thinking?
