How a Moneyline Works in Sports Betting

Sports Betting Systems

A reddit subreddit for sports betting systems that actually work. Systems for MLB Baseball and NHL Hockey (with NBA basketball coming soon) We share all performance data, so you always know HOW these systems made a profit, and the performance can be replicated using historical data.
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Clubhouse Games: 34 Frustrations

The more I play Clubhouse Games the more annoyed I get over how phoned-in it is. It looks great but I’d rather have worse graphics if it meant better gameplay.
I have about 80 hours in the game so far. I’ve played everything at least a few times: online and not, with friends or strangers. At a certain point, the novelty of the game wears off and your left with something incredibly subpar. Nothing about this game really feels broken but nothing feels incredibly polished either (except for the graphics but they’ve even managed to mess those up). I know I’m about to list off a bunch of minor annoyances but I don’t think expecting a first party Nintendo game to feel like it’s worth $40 is too much to ask.
I am interested in people’s opinions so I’ll try to keep things organized.
Clubhouse Games
  1. There are no global options whatsoever, and individual game options need to be set and reset often. You can’t change the volume for sound effects or music, you can’t turn the announcer off. It’d be nice to be able to disable intros, set all games to the hardest difficulty, or set favorites. Things like that wouldn’t be all that difficult to put in and would only make the experience better for everybody.
Single System
  1. Why does the game start with the worst possible UI option? Unless you love mancala, having games set up in a line isn’t useful (and even then you may want to play something else from time to time). You have to press X to change the menu every single time. The line is a cool presentation but it shouldn’t be the default.
  2. There is no way to sort games. They are not arranged in any particular order. It’d be cool if they were organized alphabetically or by age or region or players or game type but instead we get them loosely thrown together.
  3. Just to get this out the way now, there are not enough games for 3 or 4 people, despite a lot of these being games that support that many players.
Dots and Boxes
  1. Full analogue control is unnecessary. There should be the option to use the D pad to navigate the grid. Also this is an incredibly bare game for what is essentially color and paper. Being able to change the size and shape of the play space would be nice, as would different visual options.
Yacht Dice
  1. Mostly fine, the fact that it doesn’t snap to the category with the most points is weird.
Hex
  1. Same aesthetic complaint as D&B. Otherwise it’s fine and the grid based movement feels way better.
Hare and Hounds
  1. Why is there no option to randomize which player is which? That’s literally what happens online.
Chinese Checkers / Ludo
  1. Why can’t you pick your own color?
Shogi / Mini Shogi / Hanafuda
  1. Why aren’t Global and Classic purely cosmetic? Like, why do both players have to use the same setting? Just make it so each player can use the version they’re most comfortable with in the same game. This is a bigger problem online where they’re considered two different games.
Last Card
  1. The option to draw 1, or draw until you have a matching card should be in here, which is a pretty common house rule.
  2. Where you sit at the table doesn’t change nor can you can’t change the total number of players (uno itself can support up to 10 people). This makes friend matches somewhat boring because you’re always seated next to them.
  3. Declaring last card and playing the selected card should be the same action. It’s not like people still wouldn’t mess it up.
Blackjack
  1. This game is broken. You can go negative, which means there’s no incentive to place a reasonable bet. Why not just start the player with 500 if they can rack up debt? This is especially strange because in Texas you lose if you run out of money.
Texas Hold ‘em
  1. The betting system is better but it’s not great. Why can’t we choose how much we want to bet?
President
  1. Are five rounds necessary? The only thing that matters is who wins the last game so why not have a one round option?
Speed
  1. The selection mechanic doesn’t make sense and doesn’t always cooperate, which is problematic for such a high intensity game. Why not map the four cards to buttons and put the deck selection on the triggers?
Matching
  1. Same as #5. There’s no advantage to full analogue controls here.
Takoyaki
  1. Combos should snap to the appropriate card automatically. You get nothing from having to cycle through to each card.
Pig’s Tail
  1. Analogue makes a little more sense here but digital should still be an option (or at least give us cursor sensitivity options).
Golf
  1. A practice mode would be nice, or the option to undo your last stroke at least.
  2. Unlike other golf games, your ball wont bounce across the hole if you putt too hard. This makes the final putt unexiting and almost useless.
  3. It’s not clear how high your shot arcs in relation to the rest of the field.
Billiards
  1. Why does aiming and shooting suck so hard? Why not map aim to the shoulder buttons and give us a power meter like Carrom?
Bowling / Darts
  1. Why aren’t more than 2 players supported? These are the party games.
Toy Curling
  1. Worse than pool in that aiming and power are the same action. Makes the game imprecise.
  2. We don’t need to be reminded how many shots are left every turn. “Last three” is sufficient.
Toy Baseball
  1. I have never had a successful match with this game against another person. Maybe it’s just me but the controls don’t work when playing against a human who will use every trick under the sun to strike you out. They should’ve just put NES or Wii baseball here.
Slot Cars
  1. Analogue sticks are not precise. I get why they’re here but buttons or even RC cars like in Mario Odyssey would feel better.
Fishing
  1. Have we learned nothing from Mario Party or Smash 3DS? Turning the stick in a circle like that isn’t fun or comfortable and I don’t want to give my joy con a reason to start drifting again.
Shooting
  1. Also broken. The fact that there’s nothing stopping you from just spamming shot takes any fun or challenge out of the game once you play against other people. Even limited ammo would work here.
Piano
  1. A wasted opportunity. Why aren’t any keys mapped to buttons?
Online
  1. This game, like the NSO libraries, runs poorly for no reason. I have a friend in Australia (which has a poor internet infrastructure). We can play more demanding games like Splatoon and Minecraft just fine but this online is almost unplayable.
  2. Players with poor connection should be locked out of the action games.
  3. There should be a way to quit out of a game without quitting the whole app. There’s no consequence for it—on anyone’s end because they just replace you with a CPU anyway—so why not.
I know I didn’t get everything but I’d like to hear your thoughts. How are you getting along with the game? Are these problems starting to bother you? Do you have different problems that I didn’t name? Let me know in the comments.
submitted by mierecat to NintendoSwitch [link] [comments]

My After-school Bus Drive Didn't Take Me Home

This hurts to write about. It hurts to close my eyes and reopen them because I find myself back in the nightmare of what happened. This experience I am going to tell you about happened on October 5th, 2006, which makes you probably wonder why I am writing about it now. Truth be told, I am babysitting for my sister’s child, who has finally come of age to start taking the bus to school. All the horrid memories came swinging back since I saw her take the bus and due to the coronavirus, I’ve had limited access to my therapist. So, I am hoping maybe writing this story on different sites that I use might comfort me somehow. I don’t think it will work, but me lying awake at night until 5:00 in the morning obviously isn’t working either. If you care to hear on, well here goes my story.
I was in 5th grade and going after school to my science club, basically to get away from my parents arguing back and forth each day about why the mortgage wasn’t being paid and who cheated on who. That kind of shit was something my 10-year-old brain couldn’t handle. And so, on that day, I stayed after school. I remember having a blast and peeping over the microscope to look over to my school crush Haiti. I guess you understand the real reason why I wanted to be in this club. She was smart, pretty, and of course the popular girl. I was the typical nerdy kid that people didn’t hate or despise, but knew I wasn’t on the same level of hierarchy as the “cool kids.”
Case in point, I spent time enjoying the science club studying insects and multi-cellular organisms under the microscopes and goggley-eyeing my crush from afar. After I took the last few notes for the club’s homework, I did my best to put some big boy pants on and approach her. And as soon as I tried to do so, my best friend at the time Jason came to stop me. He pulled me by the arm with that serious but friendly smile with closed eyes and a sigh.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt Leo.”
When he said those words, I felt sadden. It was like giving a box of chocolates to that special someone you like, just to have them laugh at it and crush it beneath their feet. I looked up to see Haiti kissing a stupid moron named Derek and taking off to the buses holding hands. I sighed too and patted Jason’s shoulder.
“Thanks Jay’. I needed that.”
He nodded and patted mine too.
“Guys like us Leo, we don’t get the picture-perfect ones. We’re better off keeping our noses in our books. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather wait ’til college when girls are hotter and more mature.”
He gave a gentle nudge and playfully ruffled my messy hair. He was such an ass, but I loved him for it.
“You’re such a dick. I’m shocked you even manage to get straight A’s considering all you do is watch porn on YouTube instead of studying.”
“Who needs to study when you’re a genius?”
I laughed so hard.
“You do know you’re a dick, right?”
“I know, I know. Come on. We’re gonna miss the bus.”
With that, we raced to the buses laughing at each other and cracking jokes along the way. You would think that I would be more hurt about seeing my crush with somebody else. Truth be told, at the time, I knew I would’ve never been able to be with her. She was just out of my league and I was a weird geeky kid with terrible social skills. I’m sure a lot of you out there have had the feeling.
Still, none of that mattered. I was pretty much in fantasy land thinking that once they broke up with each other, I would swoop in and be the prince charming. So, as Jason kept making fun of Haiti’s butt and I kept mocking him for watching porn rather than trying to actually have a crush on someone, we made it to the bus with an unusual surprise:
A different bus driver.
Now it’s not like this was completely out of the ordinary. It happens all the time. Sometimes the usual driver calls out sick or something but it’s not like I was shocked or confused. It didn’t bother me much. It’s just that me and Jason knew our usual bus driver well and she would always be super nice to us and let us fool around on the bus, even though we should’ve gotten in trouble for some of the dumb stunts we pulled. Nonetheless, Jason and I got on the bus and said hi to the male bus driver. Allow me to describe him for you because I need to for the sake of my mind.
The bus driver, aside from being male, was quite tall. Tall enough that his head reached a little farther than normal above the head rest of the driver seat. He looked middle-aged with a shaved face, thick round glasses, and a pale coat to his skin color. Not albino or anything, but as if he hadn’t seen sunlight for at least a long amount of time. He had a Tampa Bay baseball cap on and a smile that was cheerfully intoxicating. I say that because most bus drivers are tired or calm with their smiles, like the smile a cashier gives you after a seven-hour shift. But his smile was…nice. Like really nice. I know that sounds weird, but I’m trying to say that it felt like a genuinely happy smile. I just remember thinking to myself that he was so nice.
So, I was extra polite and said, “Hello sir. How are you?”
With a tip of his cap and that pure smile, he said, “I’m doing well. Thank you, sir.”
He said it without being condescending and without mocking my pleasantry. I just thought he was nice, and I walked a few seats back behind the bus driver where Jason and I sat together. The way the bus worked was the cool kids sat in the back and the “not-so cool kids” sat to the front.
Jason and I didn’t care though. Him and I would sneak our Nintendo DSs in our backpacks so that we could play Pokémon together after school. Of course, both our parents didn’t want their straight A students getting distracted with video games, so we weren’t allowed to bring them to school. And let’s be real: does that ever stop kids? So, we played our games, made stupid jokes like usual, and eventually he had to get off for his stop. So, we said our famous goodbye which was, “See ya later sucka!” and playfully stuck our middle fingers at each other. Yeah, we were fucking dumb.
At this point, I put my DS away and just began staring out the bus window bored out of my mind as I was subjected to the cool kid’s loud laughter and dumb comments about after school parties. What always made me bored was that I was always the last stop. My house was just located far enough out. That meant that it was always pretty much an hour-long ride. And since Jason got off in the middle of it, that pretty much meant I had another half of the hour to go.
So, to get to the point, I watched as every other student got off the bus, and now I was left shyly alone with a bus driver I wasn’t familiar with. Normally, this part of the trip was fun for me because my usual bus driver Becky would always ask me how I was and talk to me like a grown up and not just a lame old kid. But now I just felt awkward.
I decided to just keep looking out the window and avoid eye contact with him through the rear-view mirror when he spoke very nicely again.
“Hey kid, everything okay with you?”
I looked up from the seat and shyly said, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”
He gave a chuckle and bellowed, “Come on. Don’t be shy. Come up here. Let’s talk. Clearly something is weighing on your mind. What’s up? Is it school? Someone’s not bullying you, is there? Because if there is-”
“No sir, nothing like that. It’s just…”
I sighed as I grabbed my backpack, dragging it along the floor and walking up to the front seat behind the bus driver. For some reason, he just seemed so nice. And the way he asked about me made me feel like he actually cared rather than my parents. So I caved in and relented in a polite way.
“It’s just that there’s this girl that I like. I like her a lot. But I found out today that she has a boyfriend.”
He frowned and tucked his hat downward again.
“I’m deeply sorry to hear that kid. I’ll tell you this though: I can tell by looking at you that you’re a sharp kid. You think that she’s better than you and you would give the world to her. The truth is you should value yourself. If she has someone, then that’s okay. You’ll find someone too. Don’t waste time on someone that won’t notice you the way you deserve to be.”
I thought it was odd for him to say the way he said it, but I appreciated what he meant by it. I nodded and thanked him.
“Believe me kid, when you get to be my age, there will be so many girls for you to get a chance to be with.”
I laughed at the corny joke and said, “Yeah, I’ll bet.”
He smiled softly and looked at me through the mirror.
“What’s your name kid? I feel bad calling you kid all the time,” he said with a chuckle.
“No worries. My name is Leon.”
“Good to meet you Leon. My name is Caleb.”
He reached his hand over to shake mine, and I of course shook it.
“So, what kept you after school Leon? Don’t tell me you’re a troublemaker getting detention,” he said with joking tone and that hypnotic smile.
“No sir, nothing like that. I’m in the science club.”
“Ohhhh, science! I used to love astronomy when I was your age. What subject are you studying?”
“Biology mostly. Right now, we are studying different insect exoskeletons.”
“I’ll be honest with you Leon. I sucked at science. I flunked every class. I’m sure you know way more than I do.”
When he said this, I immediately hated him. I still thought he was nice and friendly, don’t get me wrong. But I hated having conversations with people where they complement your intelligence by calling themselves dumb. It seemed forced and pathetic. Like why would anybody ever admit to being stupid like that? To flunk science? To flunk any subject? Let alone a 5th grade level course? Like I said, I hated him. Maybe that’s not quite it, but I suppose I just felt tired of the conversation.
Luckily, because of that, I realized that when I looked out the window, we were no longer on route to my house. Normally, I wouldn’t be freaked out by this because sometimes other bus drivers made mistakes or didn’t know where my house was. But since it was winter and with day light savings about, it got dark very fast. At this point, the sun was already setting, and it was only 4:40ish.
So nervously, I interrupted the conversation.
“Excuse me sir, I think you’re going the wrong way to my house.”
With another nice-looking smile, he said, “Oh gosh, I must’ve missed the turn blabbing. I’m sorry Leon. Let me make the turn at the end of this light here.”
Then I realized two more things. The first one being that I had no idea where I was. There were houses and street names on the signs. I’m not talking Silent Hill shit or anything. But I mean I didn’t recognize the area. NOT AT ALL. Like this wasn’t anywhere in my town. When you take the bus long enough, you recognize where the local areas are. This wasn’t anywhere local. Just where the hell did he take me to I thought.
Mind you that I wasn’t allowed to get a phone until I was fourteen because my parents didn’t want me getting distracted from schoolwork. So, with no way to call my parents, it almost being dusk, and having no fucking idea where I was, I started sweating amongst my arms and face. Just as I was looking around the windows, I noticed the worst thing ever. And to be honest with you, I am so grateful to God that I did.
In case you don’t know, usually school buses they have the bus driver information. Some school systems handle this differently, but in my school’s case, they hire bus drivers and use their own school buses. This means that they work for the school district of the town. In order for the safety of kids and for parent’s peace of mind, they have the information of that driver on the front either on the corner windows or beside the mechanism that opens the door. This applies even for new drivers or for substitute drivers too. In this case, it was on the window. And when I looked to read the name, it read “Aaron Jackson.”
I remember to this day trembling with goosebumps. He told me his name was Caleb, and I knew it wasn’t a mistake on the ID sticker because above it was Becky’s information. So, I knew this was the bus she used. And I knew the information below belonged to “Aaron.” But this guy wasn’t Aaron.
As deeply afraid as I was and cold I felt all over, I tried my best not to freak out screaming and give away that I caught onto what was going on. I didn’t know what his true intentions were and to this day I still don’t, but what I did know was that he wasn’t planning on taking me home.
So stuttering, I began to lie.
“Oh, oh shoot! I think I-I lost my phone,” I said pretending to check my pockets, “I think I left it in the…um…the other seat.”
From the rear-view mirror as I glanced back, I didn’t see a smile anymore. I saw a stern glance. I suddenly felt the bus turning to the right into a parking position at the side of the road.
That’s when I booked it. I ran to the back of the bus where the emergency exit was and thank the lord, I remembered how to use it from what I thought were nonsense fire drills.
“Hey come back here!” Caleb said, no longer with the same politeness in his voice.
I lifted the latch of the exit door and jumped from the bus taking off down the road. The problem was that I had no idea where to go. There were no cars and the sun was now beneath the horizon. It was purple-black outside and all I could think was to run into the wooded area where I could hopefully lose him. I could hear him chasing after behind me, screaming creepy things to me.
“Leon!”
“Leon come back here now!”
“Don’t make me tell your parents about this Leon!”
“You’re going to be in big trouble mister!”
“If you come back now, I promise I won’t hurt you!”
“I’m taking you back home Leon! I swear! I just got a little lost is all!”
At this point, I stopped running and crawled underneath the fall leaves. Even now, I can feel the scratches upon my arms from slamming into the trees and twigs. I was so fucking scared, and all I could do was try and keep levelheaded. All I could do was listen to him creepily promising me things and sounding awfully nice and awfully mean at different times.
“Leon! I know you think I’m going to hurt you but I’m not!”
“Don’t you want to see your family again Leon?”
“Leon! Stop this now!”
“If you don’t come to me this instant, you’re going to be in big trouble!”
“Don’t make me hurt you Leon!”
When he shouted that, I choked. I was holding my breath at this point, but I coughed up air. I could tell he heard it because I heard his footsteps stop and I heard the leaves crackling in my direction.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you Leon? You really thought you were gonna hide from me? You’re being such a bad boy Leon. Now you’re going to get your punishment.”
The leaves kept crumbling and crunching. Louder and louder. Louder. Crackle. Crackle. Snaps of twigs. I just kept holding my breath until underneath me I felt a twig. It was then that I had an idea. I waited until his footsteps matched my movements so he wouldn’t hear me fidgeting. I reached for the branch underneath my foot and threw it over to a broken tree stub I could barely make out in the distance.
Somehow and I do believe that it had to be God’s doing, I landed the branch to crackle loud enough that it broke the other branch and made a thud. Caleb stopped his footsteps and ran over to that sound, no longer screaming my name. I could now see his phone light jumping up and down in the distance after the sound as he tore through leaves.
“Where are you Leon? GET BACK HERE NOW! I’m going to fuck you up Leon! You have no idea what I have in store for you!”
I had no choice. In my mind, I no longer could think rationally. I got up and booked it again in the opposite direction. At this point, he realized now I was running and began chasing after me. What scared me most now that he was no longer screaming my name or ranting creepy shit. He was just breathing really hard. And I mean really hard. I would occasion turn back to see his phone light shifting around the darkness. It was so bright at this point that I could catch glimpses of his face getting lit up.
That’s the thing even now at night I see so vividly. That face that he faked on the bus wasn’t there anymore. It was just anger and malice. The kind you see in a spider ready to leap on twitching mosquito. There was just a cold blank stare, as if he knew he was going to get me.
I had no choice at this point but to drop my backpack because it was getting too heavy and making me slow.
All I could think was keep running. Keep running. It was then I made it back to the road I was on before, except I found a run-down gas station out in the distance. I just kept running and running, afraid to look behind me when I threw myself inside the station.
The cashier, a hard scruff looking college kid, quizzically saw me panting and pressing my face against the glass door when she came around the counter asking me what was wrong. Out of breath and light-headed, I just ran into the back of the bathroom and cried relentlessly. When I refused to explain the situation to her, she told me she was calling the cops and within what I think was fifteen minutes or so, two cops came and knocked on the door.
“Son, my name is Charlie and my partner Lauren is here too. We are police officers. We just want to come through the door and talk to you. Can you open the door?”
In between sobs, I pleaded for them to please keep Caleb away. Obviously, they didn’t know who that was, and calmly suggested I open the door for them. Not knowing what else to do at this point, I decided to crack open the door a little bit, making sure Caleb wasn’t somehow behind the door. When I saw the two officers and the cashier lady behind the door, I opened it all the way and cried profusely all over again.
I can’t really remember much of exactly what was said from this point and all I remember was them asking for my name and my parents picking me up from the gas station. The police from I think happened to get a statement and explained to my parents the events that I sort of was able to convey to them. It turned out that I wasn’t all that far from house, but still far enough that I was half an hour out.
My parents took me home and were paranoid from everything I could ever do at this point. No more after school. No more friend visits to Jason’s house. And no more bus trips. They drove me to school from there on. Of course, I didn’t go to school immediately after. I stayed at home for a few weeks and explained to Jason what happened over AIM (remember that using that stupid thing?).
Anyhow, I basically spent all my time inside afraid to go out for those few weeks and I had nightmares, insomnia, and the shit that comes with PTSD. I had counselors, routine check-ups from doctors, and the police came back every so often to ask me for more details to what happened. Unfortunately, to make a long sob story short, the case went cold. They couldn’t find Caleb or any evidence to suggest he had any prior connection to the school, nor did they find any fingerprints on the bus or DNA evidence to suggest he was there to begin with. They canvased the area of the woods where I was for weeks, but that’s all I know from what they told me. I don’t know all the details concerning the investigation. I spent the following years doing my best to recover from this.
For a while, by the time I made it to high school, you could say I was finally able to function normally, or as normally as anyone can. I didn’t have any more nightmares or panic induced episodes. I could even talk openly about what happened without freaking out. But now that I’ve been looking at the school buses for my niece, this has all come back to haunt me.
So, before I go and I suppose lose more time for sleeping, I will say that something that still concerns me about what happened. I don’t know if he chose to do what he was planning to do to me on purpose or if it was just because I was the unlucky last kid to get off the bus. But I told you I dropped my backpack in that wooded area and to this day as far as I know, the police and investigators haven’t found it. Which leaves me to believe that the creep took it. Now thankfully it didn’t have my address or anything like that in it, but it did have my name on it. MY FULL NAME. I can’t help but wonder if he gave up on trying to get me, or if he will one day come back to get me. That scares me most and I will do my best to respond to your questions if you have any, but for now, I am going to do my best to force myself asleep and pray that I will be safe from that man.
submitted by Leoharp to nosleep [link] [comments]

Half-bear, half-owl, all-murder. The ferocious Owlbear might look cute, but its only interest in you is how tasty you are - Lore & History

If we had to rank the ugliest Dungeons & Dragons monsters, the Owlbear is definitely near the top along with the otyugh and the AD&D orcs. The Owlbear was created by Gary Gygax who was looking for new monsters for his players to fight. He found this kaiju monster toy in a small shop that labeled it as a ‘prehistoric animal’ and, along with other great monsters like the rust monster and the bulette, inducted it into the game. While the Owlbear was originally modeled by a toy company in China, it’s growth and development in Dungeons & Dragons can be credited to Gary Gygax and all the designers after him.
If you find yourself curious as to what the original toy Gygax designed the Owlbear off of, luckily Tony Diterlizzi, the awesome artist who did a lot of work for Planescape and the 2nd edition Monstrous Manual, shared it on his blog as well as a few others that Gygax had created. It’s fascinating to see these old chinasaurs and makes you want to run to a dollar store and see what horrifying ‘dinosaurs’ you can find to throw at your own party.
 

OD&D - Owl Bear

No. Appearing: 2-5
Armor Class: 5
Move: 12”
Hit Dice: 5
% in Lair: 40%
No. of Attacks: 2 claws/1 bite
Damage/Attack: 1-6/claw****, 1-12/bite
Treasure: C
**** hug on score of 18 or better causes 2-16 points of additional damage
The Owlbear, or as it was actually introduced Owl Bear, was featured in the supplement, Greyhawk (1975). The story behind its creation was that Gygax used a plastic toy from the Godzilla movies created by the company in Hong Kong. These toys were the inspiration behind a few of the early monsters Gygax used in his early games. Tim Kask, one of the first playtesters who later became the editor for Dragon magazine tells the story as follows:
There once was an unknown company in Hong Kong that made a bag of weird animal-things that were then sold in what once were called dime stores or variety stores for like $.99. I know of four other very early monsters based on them. Gary and I talked about how hard it was to find monster figures, and how one day he came upon this bag of weird beasts…He nearly ran home, eager as a kid to get home and open his baseball cards.
Tim Kask, Forums on Dragonsfoot.org
Kask goes on to say that the figures were the inspiration for the rust monster, purple worm, carrion crawler, umber hulk, and, of course, the Owlbear. Looking at a picture of this odd yellow-colored toy, we aren’t sure how he thought the creature looks like a combination of a bear and an owl. It seems more like a twisted version of Big Bird from Sesame Street if Big Bird was a flesh-eating, homicidal maniac.
The creature that Gygax created is described as having a ‘horrid visage and disposition’ but we suppose if people kept calling us horrid looking, we’d be angsty too. Their bodies are furry with thick skin, and its head has feathers covering most of that area. Our poor, genetically confused creature is one nasty customer, as it had multiple dangerous attacks. The Owlbear was able to attack with its giant beak, though calling the thing on its face a beak doesn’t really do it justice as it is a massive curved protrusion. While the attack is actually listed as a bite, we’re sure its not the Owlbear’s teeth that cause the damage. We’re convinced it’s the beak that the creature tries to impale you upon that does most of the damage.
Next up for our horrifying genetic mistake is that it gets a bit goofy with its claw attacks. Instead of trying to open your head with its can-opener beak, the Owlbear can make two claw attacks. If the DM rolls an 18+ on the attack, the Owlbear gets to hug you. Now, this isn’t a nice gentle squeeze from grandma, but a hug from a creature that is 8 feet tall and weighs around 1,500 pounds. You’ll take 2-16 points of damage and settle for a handshake next time.
 

Basic D&D - Owlbear

Armor Class: 5
Hit Dice: 5
Move: 120’ (40’)
Attacks: 2 claws/1 bite
Damage: 1-8 each
No. Appearing: 1-4
Save As: Fighter 3
Morale: 9
Treasure Type: C
Alignment: Neutral
The Owlbear is introduced in the Dungeons & Dragons Basic Set (1971) followed by the Basic Sets from 1981 and 1983. For such a confusing and strange creature, the description is incredibly brief and a bit… strange. We understand why the Owlbear would live in the deep dark forest, but underground? Owls and bears live in the forest, not a dungeon. Described as a bear-like creature with an owl head, there is no picture in the book, leaving our imagination to conjure up all sorts of horrible visions, speaking of horrible… they are still described as 'horrid', which we are sure only makes the Owlbear angrier.
The Owlbear is described as being over 8 feet tall when it’s standing on its hind legs and weighs over 1,500 pounds, this doesn’t paint a very cuddly picture. They are also described as being foul-tempered and that they attack when encountered as they are always hungry. Now, what could you imagine a ferocious Owlbear likes to eat? Well, you probably guessed correctly and its meat, and guess what humanoids are made of… meat! So, the Owlbear is just one more monster in the long line of them that likes to eat your character. Tasty.
The Owlbear retains their painful hug, but now it only happens if they hit you with both claws instead of just getting a high roll on the attack. Add that to the potential of being hit three times and you could be having a very bad day very quickly. Their hit dice are nothing to scoff at either, as a White Dragon in this version only has 6 HD. They also have an AC of 5, which is surprisingly decent, especially for a creature that is unable to wear armor. So now we have a giant owl-headed bear with a good amount of hit points and decent armor that can hug you to death. Fun times.
The Owlbear later gets some time to shine as it shows up in Dungeons & Dragons Game set (1991), the Dungeons & Dragons Rules Cyclopedia (1991), the Classic Dungeons & Dragons Game Set (1994), and the Dungeons & Dragons Adventure Game Set (1999). Unfortunately, the creature’s stats and descriptions never see an update.
 

AD&D - Owlbear

Frequency: Rare
No. Appearing: 2-5
Armor Class: 5
Move: 12”
Hit Dice: 5+2
% in Lair: 30%
Treasure Type: C
No. of Attacks: 3
Damage/Attack: 1-6/1-6/2-12
Special Attacks: Hug
Special Defenses: Nil
Magic Resistance: Standard
Intelligence: Low
Alignment: Neutral
Size: L (8’ tall)
Psionic Ability: Nil
The Owlbear appears in the Monster Manual (1977) and this edition brings it just a bit more information to chew on. Before we dive into talking about this horrid beast, we have to talk about the picture that comes along with the description. The drawing is based on the toy that was the inspiration for the Owlbear, and it is incredibly spot on… in the worst way. Its body looks nothing like a bear and its head has no resemblance to that of an owl, and the last time we checked a bear doesn’t have a giant tail. We’re not sure why it’s arms and legs have less hair on them, but they are noticeably paler than the rest of the body. It has a hunchback and a strange gizzard-like neck. The head is… ridiculous is the only appropriate word for it, it looks like it’s wearing a strange looking hat made of what we can only assume is feathers. The face is less of a face and more of one giant beak with tiny little teeth and one narrow eye. Thank goodness for the Owlbear that the only other picture on the page is that of the otyugh, who has a face, not even a mother could love.
The Owlbear gets a tiny bit of backstory, as it is surmised that the creation of this foul beast may have come about at the hands of a wizard, which is just code for 'Nobody wanted to think too hard about a bear and an owl getting it on'. This makes us feel slightly bad for the Owlbears, they are incredibly grumpy and hungry and they didn’t ask for this life!
Owlbears are described as a combination of brown fur and yellow feathers, it’s beak is a much lighter color, from yellow to ivory. They can still weigh up to 1,500 pounds, and it’s cruel eyes are usually red-rimmed, as if it had been crying. Maybe it saw itself in a mirror or the highly polished shield of a paladin perhaps, and finally saw what it looked like. We feel for it, that’s a daily occurrence for us.
The Owlbear can be found in deep dark forests or underground labyrinths. While exploring those lost ruins and labyrinths, you may also stumble across Mr. and Mrs. Owlbear in their lair, and there is a 1 in 4 chance that they’ll have a few little ones running around. There is also a chance that their young haven’t hatched yet and that there are up to 6 eggs just ready to be plundered by adventurers for a nice omelet. Since the Owlbear comes from an egg, we have to figure that the genetic experiments resulted in more owl DNA than just the strange owl head and feathers. Now, we talked about using the Owlbear eggs to make an omelet, but before you get that fire going, let’s talk about gold. Owlbear eggs are worth up to 2,000 gold while the young go for 5,000 gold. Of course, the Owlbears aren’t just going to let you take their young, Owlbears fight to the death, no matter the stakes plus there is a 50% chance that the Owlbear ‘cubs’ you are hoping for will be full-grown and fight side by side with mom and dad.
The rest of the Owlbear is largely unchanged from the previous editions and they are still known for giving their bear hugs, though it states that anywho is locked in this hug takes the damage at the start of the Owlbear’s turn every round… which is gotta be horrifying for those trying to save their party member. All they see is the fighter get a massive hug, and then they start hearing screams as bones begin breaking and the gleaming owl beak of the Owlbear begins pecking and biting into the fighter’s head, trying to break it open like a kinder egg… We wonder what the surprise will be! Probably nothing, we all know that fighters aren’t the brightest.
 

2e - Owlbear

Climate/Terrain: Temperate Forest
Frequency: Rare
Organization: Pack
Activity Cycle: Late afternoon/early evening
Diet: Carnivore
Intelligence: Low (5-7)
Treasure: (C)
Alignment: Neutral
No. Appearing: 1 (2-8)
Armor Class: 5
Movement: 12
Hit Dice: 5+2
THAC0: 15
No. of Attacks: 3
Damage/Attack: 1-6/1-6/2-12
Special Attacks: Hug
Special Defenses: Nil
Magic Resistance: Nil
Size: L (8’ tall)
Morale: Steady (11-12) + Special
XP Value: 420
The Owlbear appears first in the Monstrous Compendium Volume One (1989) and is later added to the Monstrous Manual (1993). The picture in the Monstrous Compendium gets slightly better and features just the top half of the ferocious beast and you can make our more details! Wicked claws, horrifying owl beak and… teeth… lots of teeth. It’s like staring into the mouth of a penguin and being horrified by what you see. In the Monstrous Manual, we get a full-color drawing of the beast by Tony DiTerlizzi and it is as whimsical as anything else he has drawn! Brown fur with owl feathers, a tongue sticking out, and wicked claws… we still don’t want to get lost in a forest with one of them, but at least it won’t be as embarrassing to die by this beast than before. No one wants to die to a homicidal Big Bird.
Their description and background remain the same except for a few humorous additions, and it's actually kind of sad. Typically in 2e, we get a full page of information about the exotic life of the creatures and how they reside in their ecosystem with words crammed into every part of the page… the poor Owlbear has plenty of room leftover on the page and has a glaring block of white space that could be used to give it a more interesting backstory and ecology! Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Instead, our Owlbear is still created by a mad wizard, it is implied that upon creation, the Owlbear killed the wizard. We hope it was a slow and painful death, Mother Nature should not be screwed with in such a horrifying way. The Owlbear also gets its own language, if you consider screeching at various pitches a language. We can only imagine the terror of being trapped in a labyrinth and hearing that noise echoing throughout the maze.
How and where they live also remains mostly the same, and now they can also live in caves and hollow tree stumps. Caves we get, but hollow tree stumps? That had to be one big ass tree, especially if they expect there to be a pack of them. Speaking of packs, when an Owlbear couple decides to settle down and make a family, they claim up to two square miles as their own. Don’t trespass, as they are very touchy about visitors, and will try to kill you immediately. As we have mentioned before, the Owlbear will fight to the death. Now you can use that to your advantage, as their crazed fury blinds them to the dangers you can create for them. The text suggests that you lure them off a cliff or drop a bunch of boulders on them. It does go on to say, of course, that is only if you can find a cliff. Even with a low Intelligence, we’re pretty sure the Owlbear won’t do this, but if it does, you’d better hope you’re not being hugged when it happens.
We are given a bit of information in regards to the ecology of the Owlbear and the text describes a creature that lives with the results of two creatures being smashed together through magic. Living 20 years, they are warm-blooded animals, like a bear would be, but like an owl, their cubs are hatched from what must be really, really large eggs. They are carnivores and are only interested in anything tasty like rabbits, snakes, bears, and one must always assume humanoids because we are incredibly delicious. Their sleep patterns are a lot like that of a teenager in that they don’t rise until noon and then hunt all afternoon and night until they tucker themselves out and go to sleep at midnight. They hate the cold and their bear tendencies shine through in the winter when they hibernate, though there are rumors of arctic Owlbears… so watch out. Lastly, they can’t be domesticated, and why anyone would ever want one is beyond us. If you need a hug that badly, go visit your mom. They are captured and sold in markets throughout the world, where they command a high price and many a powerful person has purchased an Owlbear to serve as an unwitting protector of their owner’s property.
In 1995, we are given an interesting article in Dragon #214 (February), the Ecology of the Owlbear by Johnathan Richards. This article tells the story of how two adventurers almost got themselves killed by Owlbears. The two adventurers, a grizzled old veteran Griff, and a young apprentice Colin who has no business going out in the wilderness. They track down an Owlbear and use honey to distract the poor creature and end up killing it with a poisoned crossbow bolt. Of course, you’d assume that Griff, who basically brags to know everything about Owlbears would know that some Owlbears mate and have babies. While Griff is skinning the first Owlbear, the second Owlbear comes out of a cave and gets a little upset, and we might say unreasonable, and begins attacking the two. Somehow, they survive the encounter and find a few Owlbear eggs to sell in the market.
Now, this piece in the article is especially interesting because they provide ways of augmenting the normal Owlbear and giving it even more owl and bear traits, this does make a stronger monster but does give it a lot more flavor to its mechanics. Owlbears, even after you killed them, still want to fight for several more rounds before it finally decides to die… We recommend distracting them with the one thing bears apparently can’t resist. Honey! Honey is one of the few things that an Owlbear loves to eat, the other things being you and anything else filled with delicious meat.
Owlbears, like bears, mark their territories by sharpening their claws on trees, though they can’t climb a tree… which seems a bit weird seeing as how bears can climb trees and owls can roost in them. Luckily for you though, you can hide in a tree and be safe from the horrid beast below you on the forest floor, unlucky for you because you are stuck in that tree. Owlbears are known for waiting days, angrily waiting for you to come down so it can show you just how pissed off it is. They are also known for being so strong as to knock fully matured trees down, so there’s that too.
This updated Owlbear also gains a few other characteristics of its owl half, like it can swivel its head a full 270 degrees and can quickly whip its head back and forth with ease. In the realm of the weird, the Owlbear has a third transparent eyelid that provides an extra layer of protection, as the young Colin finds out when he tries to blind the Owlbear by throwing dirt into its face. Just as the owl does, the Owlbear tears its food into chunks and doesn’t bother chewing as it gulps those chunks down. What it can’t digest gets turned into leftover pellets that it spits up as owl pellets.
At the end of the article, we are introduced to two new Owlbears, which are later reprinted in the Monstrous Compendium Annual Volume Three (1996), The Artic Owlbear and the Flying Owlbear. As you can probably guess, one lives in the cold and snow, and the other can fly. The Arctic Owlbear has more hit dice than our regular Owlbear and is a snowy white color, giving it great camouflage as it waits in the snow, ready to pounce. Also, its a mix of a polar bear and a snow owl. The Flying Owlbear can fly, which is a very disturbing thought. As if dealing with a regular Owlbear isn’t bad enough, now it can rain down death from the sky and are incredibly stealthy and hard to notice until the wizard suddenly learns to fly and soars away to be eaten in the clouds.
The last Owlbear of 2nd edition is featured in Dungeon #63 (July 1997) and is part of an adventure called Hunt for the Heirophant by Chris Doyle. The Owlbear featured is a Dire Owlbear of immense size and strength, it has more hit points, deals more damage and is a ferocious brute who was placed in stasis because a wizard wanted to use it as a guard. The party must fight the Dire Owlbear and the wizard asks that they don’t kill it… which we are sure is going over well for the fighter caught in its hug and is currently being lobotomized by a bird beak.
 

3e/3.5e - Owlbear

Large Magical Beast
Hit Dice: 5d10+25 (52 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 15 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +5 natural), touch 10, flat-footed 14
Base Attack/Grapple +5/+14
Attacks: Claw +9 melee (1d6+5)
Full Attack: Claw +9 melee (1d6+5) and bite +4 melee (1d8+2)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./5ft.
Special Attacks: Improved Grab
Special Qualities: Darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, scent
Saves: Fort +9, Ref +5, Will +2
Abilities: Str 21, Dex 12, Con 21, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 10
Skills: Listen +8, Spot +8
Feats: Alertness, Track
Climate/Terrain: Temperate forests
Orgnization: Solitary, pair, or pack (3-8)
Challenge Rating: 4
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always neutral
Advancement: 6-8 HD (large); 9-15 HD (Huge)
Level Adjustment: -
The owlbear appears in the Monster Manual (2000/2003) and before we talk about the shockingly small amount of information our fine-feathered and furry-murder-beast received in this edition, we first have to discuss the Owlbear’s picture. It’s once again back to standing upright and its arms are these odd feather-covered appendages that look more like wings than arms. Its yellow-brownish color gives it a regal look which would be great if its facial expression wasn’t one that said it was going to rip your throat out. All in all, it looks like a person dressed up in a giant bird suit screaming because they can’t get out. Or maybe someone is playing a horrible prank on a bear and glued on some feathers and a beak, and the bear is upset… either way, probably best not to get too close, they look dangerous.
The short description provided leaves a lot to be desired, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything to talk about. They are active during the day or night, and it largely depends on the available prey in the area, so now breakfast is no longer safe from them. Eggs and young Owlbears still fetch a handsome reward, and now you have the privilege of paying an exorbitant amount, 2,000 gp, to an Owlbear trainer if you want one of your very own… which, is probably the safest thing to do. If the Owlbear is going to murder someone, its better that its the trainer and not you… that way you can get your 2,000 gp back from the thoroughly shredded body. Finally, the term ‘hug’ is dropped, as the attack is now referred to as an improved grab ability and honestly… we kind of miss the idea of the Owlbear squeezing people to death like their a tube of toothpaste and it's trying to squeeze every drop out.
Fortunately for us, the Owlbear appears in many other places during this edition and even appears as an Owlbear Skeleton in the 3.5 Monster Manual! The creature provided is based on a template for creating skeletons, so while it doesn’t build on the lore… it does mean that just when you thought you were safe, clearing the nearby lands of Owlbear infestations, you now have the distinct possibility of having to fight one of these undead monsters. Life isn’t fair sometimes.
In the Forgotten Realms supplement Unapproachable East (2003), you can take your very own Owlbear feat called the Owlbear Berserker. Your barbarian lodge totem is an Owlbear and when you take this feat you get to make an unarmed attack, dealing 1d6 points of damage with a successful grapple check. We assume it's based on the owlbear’s hug ability since you probably don’t have a giant beak to peck with when the target is grappled.
After that comes a few other variant Owlbears, like the Flying Owlbear in the Dungeons #84 (January 2001) adventure The Dying of the Light, or the Ancient Owlbear in the Dungeon #107 (February 2004) adventure Mellorn Hospitality. The last type of Owlbear in this edition appears in the Bestiary of Kyrnn (2004, 2007) which has an Ankholian Undead Owlbear as one more creature to feed our nightmares. The Ankholian Undead is a template that you can apply to any monster you want and provides several additional undead abilities that provide a far more fearsome opponent than some sort of skeleton. An interesting fact about Ankholian undead creatures is that they get a breath weapon that gives them the ability to spew a 30-foot cone of green flame that doesn’t burn you, instead, it does slam you with cold damage and its usable once per minute. And just when you thought that that pack of Owlbear Skeletons would be the worst thing you had to face today…
 

4e - Owlbear

Level 8 Elite Brute
Large fey beast / XP 700
Initiative +6 / Senses Perception +12; low-light vision
HP 212; Bloodied 106; see also stunning screech
AC 22; Fortitude 22, Reflex 19, Will 20
Saving Throws +2
Speed 7
Action Points 1
Claw (standard; at will) Reach 2; 12 vs. AC; 2d6+5 damage
Double Attack (standard; at will) The owlbear makes two claw attacks. if both claws hit the same target, the target is grabbed (until escape).
Bite (standard; at will) Grabbed target only; automatic hit; 4d8+5 damage.
Stunning Screech (free, when first bloodied, encounter) Close burst 1; +10 vs. Fortitude; the target is stunned (save ends).
Alignment Unaligned / Languages -
Str 20 (+9) Dex 14 (+6) Wis 16 (+7) Con 16 (+7) Int 2 (+0) Cha 10 (+4)
The Owlbear appears in the Monster Manual (2008) and the first thing that we should mention is that they are now considered fey beasts… will get back to that. To keep up our tradition, let’s talk about the artwork. It looks good… suspiciously too good, which makes us wonder if some sort of Big Owlbear lobby is out there and bribed WotC to make a fearsome, scary, and accurate drawing of an Owlbear. Long claws, deadly beak, and a beautiful blending of feathers to fur… it took up till 4th edition to finally get some good artwork of the Owlbear and it was worth it.
Going back to the fey beast, the creature is no longer described as the creation of an insane wizard, but a predator from the Feywild. They live in the forest and in caves, hunt either during the day or night, mate, and reproduce. They somehow slipped over to the natural world and as far as we are concerned, the Feywild can have them back.
The claw/grab/crush attack, formally known as the hug attack remains, with the Owlbear grappling the target if it hits with both claw attacks and automatically bitting any target they grab on to. Owlbears also gain a new attack called the Stunning Screech, which allows them to screech so loud it will make your ears bleed and cause you to be stunned. It will then charge you down and begin attacking you with even more aggression and renew its tight squeeze to get at your meat flavored filling.
We are also introduced to the Winterclaw Owlbear, which is just a meaner, colder, and probably angrier Owlbear. While the Winterclaw loses its Stunning Screech, it gains a new cold attack known as Frost Wall. While this ability no longer stuns their prey, it instead sends out literal ice and immobilizes their target so that the Winterclaw can hang out a bit, talk about life and then begin squeezing you like a twinkie.
The lore goes on to describe how the inhabitants of the Feywild like to tame the Owlbears, using them to guard their territories. This is further expanded on in the Monster Vault Box Set (2010) which provides several new Owlbears to hug your party to death as well as a bit more information about the ecology of the Owlbear. They are gifted with the vision of the owl and the raw power of the bear. They just love to kill things and if they are in a prey-rich area, they will strew their territory with lots of dead bodies to attract scavengers. They will then sneak up on those pesky scavengers and eat them, displaying any leftovers to attract even more scavengers for it to lazily feed on.
Most describe the lairs of these Owlbears as horrendously smelly, and we are sure that the smell of rotting meat has to be bad… though some in the Feywild use this to their advantage and specifically set up their treetop communities over the lairs of these smelly Owlbears. The elves will have their beautiful cities guarded below them by the Owlbears, and hopefully, they have a constant strong wind to push away the overwhelming stench. This book also provides information on Young Owlbears, Trained Owlbears, and the Wind-Claw Owlbear who gets a new ability called Disembowel. Much like a massive hug, the Wind-Claw can attack you twice with its claws. If it hits on both attacks, it stuns you by disemboweling you… We are pretty confident that that would do a bit more than just stun us but probably kill us too.
 

5e - Owlbear

Large monstrosity, unaligned
Armor Class 13 (natural armor)
Hit Points 59 (7d10 + 21)
Speed 40 ft.
STR 20 (+5) | DEX 12 (+1) | CON 17 (+3 ) | INT 3 (-4) | WIS 12 (+1) | CHA 7 (-2)
Skills Perception +3
Senses darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 13
Languages -
Challenge 3 (700 XP)
Keen Sight and Smell. The owlbear has advantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks that rely on sight or smell
Multiattack. The owlbear makes two attacks: one with its beak and one of its claws.
Beak. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one creature. Hit: 10 (1d10 + 5) piercing damage.
Claws. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 14 (2d8 + 5) slashing damage.
The Owlbear is introduced in the Monster Manual (2014) and the picture of the Owlbear is well-drawn and looks like a bear with an owl face. We’ve got some questions for the artists though, the Owlbear has had fur that has been brown, yellow, light yellow, dark brown, light brown, and is described as having the body of a bear… So why the sudden change to light purple? It may be nitpicking, but the purple color is throwing us off, along with it just feeling a bit uncanny. Honestly, we prefer the 4e version of the Owlbear whereas this just feels a bit too abstract with its strange arm wings.
Luckily for us, the lore provided for 5e makes up for its odd artwork and the Owlbear, instead of getting one origin story, gets two. Our first story is that an insane wizard created the Owlbear, which makes for a good story but still has no basis in fact that anyone can find. There is still no name, and all we get is that the Owlbears probably killed their creator. Maybe the wizard’s name has been in front of us the whole time. Just like Frankenstein is actually the name of the doctor who created the monster, maybe Owlbear is the name of the wizard who created the monster! Just let that sink in, these creatures were created by the Archmage Owlbear and he created them in his image… err… name? Your welcome for fixing this bit of lore you never knew you needed.
Of course, their second origin story is from 4e and is that they are from the Feywild and somehow made the crossing over to the Material Plane. While this second story seems more plausible, how much do you trust Elves? Let us ask that question a different way, how badly do you want there to be an Archmage Owlbear? You know which story we prefer.
Focusing on the facts known about the Owlbear, it is still extremely mean and will attack anything or anyone on sight. They live in the deep dark forest or caves, and apparently, they are very bad housekeepers. Their lairs are made up of scattered bones, blood, and the remains of their victims. They live either by themselves or if they have fallen in love with the right Owlbear, you may encounter a happy family of our furry-feathered-murder-beasts. A lot of the lore is actually taken directly from 4e’s Monster Vault, though some of it is slightly rewritten, and we still have elves using them to guard the ground beneath the tree-cities. While we are sure that the nearby neighbors of the elf-cities would complain about their property values dropping, no one in their right mind ever says anything since there is an Owlbear!
The first of the two biggest changes to the Owlbear deals with how it attacks. While the claw and beak attack remain, there are no more hugs of any sort. Our incredibly friendly Owlbear no longer has any chance to grapple its target and squeeze it to death. Is this even the Owlbear anymore? That was its signature move and they decided to take it away! While the damage is relatively high for its challenge rating, it just isn’t that terrifying. This travesty has yet to be resolved and they have had 6 years to correct their error, so one has to imagine this was done on purpose. Shame on you WotC, shame on you.
The second change is kind of cool, although nothing will compensate for the loss of the hug attack. Building on the 4e Owlbear that could be tamed, 5e takes it one step further. An Owlbear can now be trained to do all sorts of ‘domesticated’ tasks. Hobgoblins use them as war beasts and certain giants keep them as pets. Out in the wild frontier, the inhabitants love themselves some Owlbear as they use them as guards, which isn’t exactly a new thing, but they also train them to be ridden. We are pretty sure riding into town on an Owlbear would make you the biggest badass the locals have ever seen. Of course, what is even more badass is that you could ride them in Owlbear races! The image of a dozen or so of these 1,500-pound creatures galloping around a dirt track in the middle of nowhere is both exhilarating and terrifying. Especially as a lot of the people bet on not just who wins but who gets eaten first by their vicious mount.
Unfortunately for the Owlbear, it has largely been used as part of a random encounter and rarely provides much to the story across every edition of Dungeons & Dragons. Even in 5e, it appears in several adventures as a random encounter like in The Lost Mine of Phandelver (2014), Princes of the Apocalypse (2015), and Storm King’s Thunder (2016).
If you’re a DM and have a burning desire to watch your players freak out at the sight of this horrid creature, throw one into your campaign. If you are a player and you see one of these horrifying creatures running towards you and screeching like an owl out of hell, well… hopefully, you are playing 5th edition and you don’t have to worry about that massive bear-hug that will pop you like a pimple.
On a side note, we have created something that no one asked for! Now YOU can create your very own genetic mistake and throw a surprise curve ball at your players!

Build-An-Owlbear - Three charts to customize your own Owlbear!

Have a monster you'd like to see explored throughout the editions? Let us know in the comments!

Past Deep Dives

Creatures: Aboleth / Beholder / Displacer Beast / Flumph / Gelatinous Cube / Grell / Hobgoblin / Kobold / Kraken / Kuo-Toa / Lich / Lizardfolk / Mimic / Mind Flayer / Nothic / Rakshasa / Sahuagin / Umber Hulk / Vampire / Werewolf / Xorn
Spells: Fireball Spell / Lost Spells / Wish Spell
Other: Barbarian Class / Wizard Class / The History of Bigby / The History of the Blood War / The History of Vecna
submitted by varansl to DnDBehindTheScreen [link] [comments]

I found tapes my grandfather left behind. This one's about the Babysitter's Club.

If you haven't read my first post do that before reading this one. It'll help explain what's going on.
Since everybody wanted to know more about the tapes before I explained the predicament they've put me in, I figured I'd start you off where I started. With tape #1.
Be warned. Kids die in this one, and that's not the worst of it.
Tape #1

NEBRASKA - 1979 - MB - P CLASS

CLICK<
-silence-
-sigh-
I KNOW I SHOULDN’T BE SURPRISED TO FIND THAT YOU’VE HAD ME FOLLOWED. MUCH THE SAME WAY I’M SURE YOU WEREN’T SURPRISED WHEN YOUR CRONIES DIDN’T RESPOND AT THEIR NEXT SHIFT CHANGE. YOU’LL FIND THEM AT -redacted-. I HOPE THEY DIDN’T HAVE FAMILIES. THAT MIGHT DEFEAT THE PURPOSE OF THIS TAPE I’M RECORDING RIGHT NOW.
WE SPENT DECADES TOGETHER, DIDN’T WE? SOMEWHERE CLOSE, AT LEAST. HOW MANY FAMILIES DO YOU THINK WE REALLY SAVED, AMBROSE? I’VE TALLIED THEM UP AND I HONESTLY DOUBT WE’VE DONE MORE GOOD THAN NOT. PERHAPS THAT’S WHY YOU WANT ME DEAD.
WELL TOO BAD. I’VE PICKED UP A THING OR TWO WITH THE -redacted- AND YOU CAN BET THAT WHEN I DO DIE IT WILL BE OF OLD AGE IN THE ARMS OF THE WOMAN I LOVE. YOU’RE NOWHERE NEAR THE WORST THING I’VE ENCOUNTERED DURING MY TENURE WITH -redacted-. I’VE FOUGHT AND KILLED THINGS OLDER THAN THIS COUNTRY— THAN THIS CONTINENT. SEVEN ARMED GUNMEN FOLLOWING ME ON A HUNTING TRIP DON’T COUNT FOR SHIT AGAINST THAT.
-pause-
I’M CREATING THIS TAPE FOR YOU BECAUSE IT’S IMPORTANT THAT YOU KNOW WHAT I’M DOING. YOU’VE SUSPECTED IT, OTHERWISE YOU WOULDN’T HAVE SENT THOSE MEN AFTER ME. BUT I’M GOING TO CONFIRM IT FOR YOU NOW.
I HAVE EVIDENCE— TESTIMONIAL AND OTHERWISE— OF MANY OF MY MISSIONS WITH -redacted- OVER THE YEARS. YOU ALWAYS CALLED THEM “MISSIONS”, DESPITE WHAT THEY WERE.
HUNTS.
AND I’VE COLLECTED AND SAVED EVIDENCE OVER THESE DECADES ABOUT THE HUNTS WE PERFORMED, INCLUDING ALL THE COLLATERAL DAMAGE WE CAUSED. THEY ARE PREPARED IN NEAT FOLDERS, READY TO BE DELIVERED TO LAWYERS, LEGISLATURES, AND FAMILIES OF THE DECEASED, (OR WORSE), AT A MOMENT’S NOTICE, WITH SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS IF I WERE TO DIE AN UNTIMELY DEATH.
I’VE LET A FEW PEOPLE IN ON MY LITTLE SECRET, AMBROSE. I KNOW WHEN I’M SUPPOSED TO DIE, AND NOW SO DO OTHERS. IF I OR ANY IN MY FAMILY PASS BEFORE THEIR APPOINTED TIMES, THEN YOU CAN REST ASSURED THAT THE VAST ENTIRETY OF -redacted- WILL FIND ITSELF NONEXISTENT AND COVERED IN A CLOUT OF LAWSUITS AND ATTACKS OF A MUCH MORE PUBLIC NATURE.
JUST IN CASE YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME, I INCLUDED IN THESE FILES THE LOCATION OF -redacted-. I BET YOU THOUGHT I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE THAT WAS.
IF YOU FOLLOW THROUGH ON THESE THREATS, YOU ASSURE OUR MUTUAL DESTRUCTION. EXCEPT YOU’LL HAVE TO LIVE THROUGH YOURS.
-lengthy pause. There’s a sound of ruffling papers and flipping pages, (in a book or on a notepad? This next part sounds like he’s reading from a script)-
I, GILIAN -redacted-, ADMIT TO THE MURDER OF BEATRICE -redacted-, 9, DANIEL -redacted-, 12, AND JESSICA -redacted-, 16, ON THE EVENINGS OF -redacted- IN THE TOWN OF -redacted-, NEBRASKA IN THE SUMMER OF 1979. TO PROVE THIS, ALLOW ME TO LIST SOME DETAILS THAT WERE NOT INCLUDED IN THE PUBLISHED REPORTS.
-NOTE: it is important to know that Beatrice and Daniel were siblings-
BEATRICE’S RIGHT FOREFINGER WAS IN DANIEL’S STOMACH. IT WAS CHEWED OFF— NOT MISSING AS WHAT WAS REPORTED. THE BITE MARKS WOULD MATCH DANIEL’S DENTAL RECORDS. SHE WAS KILLED WITH A -redacted- SHOT TO THE HEAD.
DANIEL’S -redacted- TEMPLE WAS CAVED IN WITH A BASEBALL BAT. THE MAKE AND MODEL OF WHICH WAS -redacted- AND YOU WILL FIND IT BURIED -redacted-. IT SPLINTERED UPON IMPACT, SO YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO CONFIRM MY CLAIMS BY COMPARING THE WOOD. AND THE BLOOD.
JESSICA WAS SHOT WITH -redacted- FOURTEEN TIMES. I PROMISE YOU THAT EVERY SHOT WAS NECESSARY. EIGHT BULLETS WERE SOFT TIPS. THE OTHER SIX WERE CUSTOM ARMOR PIERCING ROUNDS TIPPED WITH THE SILVER ALLOY -redacted-. THERE WERE TWO OTHER SILVER-TIPPED BULLETS IN THE WALL OPPOSITE THE ENTRYWAY TO THE HOUSE. I’M SURE YOUR CORONER’S REPORT ON HER KEPT THE OFFICERS UP FOR WEEKS.
-clears throat-
I WAS NOT INVOLVED IN THE DEATHS OF MISTY -redacted- AND DOUGLAS -redacted-, SHERIN -redacted- AND ADEM -redacted-, OR RAYMOND -redacted- ON THE NIGHTS OF -redacted-, -redacted-, AND -redacted-. THOSE WERE THE CASES THAT DREW OUR ATTENTION.
NOTE: again, it is important to know that Misty and Douglas were siblings, that Sherin and Adem were siblings. Raymond had a younger brother.-
I TRAVELED TO -redacted-, NEBRASKA IN JUNE OF 1979 TO INVESTIGATE A SERIES OF… MYSTERIOUS DEATHS AND DISAPPEARANCES.
MISTY WAS FOUND IN THE WOODS BEHIND THEIR HOUSE. HER CLOTHES WERE MISSING AND SHE WAS COVERED IN BOTH HER OWN BLOOD AND THE BLOOD OF HER BROTHER. SHE WAS MISSING HER LOWER JAW AND HAD EXTENSIVE DAMAGE TO HER ESOPHAGUS. HER RIBS WERE CRACKED AND HER STOMACH WAS DISTENDED. INSIDE WAS FOUND THE ENTIRE REMAINS OF HER LITTLE BROTHER, DOUGLAS. WHEN HER JAW WAS FOUND NEARBY IT WAS DETERMINED IT HAD BEEN RIPPED OFF. MANY OF DOUGLAS’ REMAINS WERE NOT BITE-SIZED, ESPECIALLY FOR A CHILD THE SIZE OF MISTY. SOMEBODY HAD FIRST DISLOCATED HER JAW BEFORE REMOVING IT ENTIRELY IN ORDER TO ALLOW THE GIRL TO EAT ENTIRE LIMBS. ONE OF DOUGLAS’ FEMURS WAS ENTIRELY INTACT, AND IT IS PRESUMED THAT FORCING THE LIMB DOWN HER THROAT WAS THE MAIN SOURCE OF THE TEARS AND BRUISING FOUND IN HER ESOPHAGUS. NONE OF THIS MADE THE PAPERS.
-sighs. It sounds like he flips a page.-
SHERIN AND ADEM WERE FOUND MUCH THE SAME WAY. RAYMOND, HOWEVER, WAS BY HIMSELF. HIS ARMS AND BOTH OF HIS LEGS WERE FOUND INSIDE HIM. THE WOUNDS SUGGESTED THEY’D BEEN TWISTED OFF. WHOEVER REMOVED HIS JAW HAD FORCED THAT DOWN HIS THROAT AS WELL.
WHAT THESE CASES ALL HAD IN COMMON WAS THAT THE CHILDREN HAD BEEN LEFT WITH THEIR BABYSITTER. THEIR USUAL BABYSITTER. NONE OF THEM SHARED THE SAME BABYSITTER. MISTY AND DOUGLAS’ BABYSITTER, KELLY -redacted-, WASN’T EVEN IN THE SAME STATE, THOUGH THE CHILDREN’S PARENTS SWORE THEY LEFT THEM WITH HER. SHERIN AND ADEM’S BABYSITTER, WINONA, WAS AT A HIGH SCHOOL PARTY AT A LAKE WITH DOZENS ABLE TO CORROBORATE HER STORY. RAYMOND’S BABYSITTER…
-rifles through pages-
DOESN’T MATTER. HIS BABYSITTER WAS ALSO SOMEWHERE ELSE THE NIGHT THAT HE DIED. WHAT’S IMPORTANT HERE IS THAT THE COMMON THREAD WAS THE MISSING BABYSITTER.
-pauses. There’s a squeak from his chair(?) as he gets up. He comes back and sets something on the desk. There’s more rifling through pages, but this sounds more like a book. It no longer sounds as if he is reading from a script.-
AUFS ARE AN INTERESTING SUBJECT. TYPICALLY, STORIES OF THEM WERE USED TO DISMISS OR EXPLAIN UNDESIRABLE DISABILITIES OR ILLNESSES IN YOUNG CHILDREN. PARENTS WOULD CLAIM THAT FAIRIES HAD COME ALONG AND SUBSTITUTED OUT THEIR REAL CHILD FOR A FAIRY ONE. AS FAR AS I KNOW, THIS WAS NEVER THE CASE. I’VE SEEN ENOUGH NOT TO QUESTION THE EXISTENCE OF THE FOLK, BUT I’VE NEVER HAD AN EXPERIENCE WITH THEM.
WHAT WE HAD HERE WAS NOT QUITE A CHANGELING. THIS WAS SOMETHING THAT HAD ASSUMED THE IDENTITY OF A LOCAL PERSON AND LIVED IN THE COMMUNITY FOR A WHILE. SPECIFICALLY, IT HAD ASSUMED THE IDENTITY OF JESSICA -redacted-. AND WHILE WE DON’T HAVE A SPECIFIC NAME FOR IT, IT WAS SOMEWHERE NEAR A P-CLASS PHENOMENA.
WE SEARCHED THROUGH THE WORST PARTS OF TOWN— THE PARTS THAT PEOPLE TEND TO AVOID. THE PLACES WHERE PARENTS MIGHT NOT NOTICE THEIR DAUGHTER OR NEIGHBOR HAS BEEN ACTING STRANGELY.
IT ONLY TOOK US THREE DAYS OF CANVASING. I POSED AS A BUSINESSMAN, CLAIMING MY WIFE HAD HIRED A BABYSITTER FROM THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHO HAD LEFT SOMETHING QUITE VALUABLE WITH US THAT I WANTED TO RETURN. IT WASN’T THE CLEANEST JOB, BUT I WAS NEWER THEN.
THAT LED US TO THE -redacted- RESIDENCE, WHERE I MET JESSICA’S FATHER. JESSICA HAD BEEN BABYSITTING AND BRINGING HOME MONEY EACH OF THE NIGHTS THAT THE CHILDREN DIED. MORE THAN THAT, SHE WAS BABYSITTING AGAIN THAT NIGHT.
MY PARTNER, -redacted-, FOLLOWED HER FROM SCHOOL. WHEN I ASKED ABOUT HER HE TOLD ME SHE WAS STRANGE. SHE LOOKED NORMAL, JUST ANOTHER KID, BUT FOR SOME REASON WHEN SHE WALKED NEAR OTHER STUDENTS OR PASSED PEOPLE ON THE SIDEWALK THEY’D MOVE OUT OF HER WAY. SHE WAS THE ONE WE WANTED.
-sighs-
I WAS AT THE HOTEL GETTING READY WHEN THE PHONE RANG. -redacted- TOLD ME HE’D LOST HER. SHE’D TAKEN A SHORTCUT THROUGH THE WOODS. HE’D TRIED TO FOLLOW, BUT STOPPED WHEN HE FOUND WHAT HE DESCRIBED AS A “PILE OF FLESH AND GOOP” ALONG WITH THE DISCARDED CLOTHES THAT SHE’D BEEN WEARING IN A DUFFEL BAG NEARBY. SEVERAL OTHER CHANGES OF CLOTHES WERE IN THERE.
HE’D FOLLOWED THE TRAIL TO A NEIGHBORHOOD ROAD NEAR AN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. HOPEFULLY, SHE WAS THERE SOMEWHERE.
WE SPENT FAR TOO LONG SEARCHING FOR HER. WE’D RING A DOORBELL, MAKE UP A BULLSHIT STORY ABOUT A SURVEY WE WERE DOING FOR A CHURCH, GET TURNED AWAY, THEN MOVE ON TO THE NEXT HOUSE. IT WAS TWO HOURS BEFORE WE GOT LUCKY.
THE GIRL LOOKED NOTHING LIKE JESSICA. HER HAIR WAS BLONDE AND INSTEAD OF THE DARK CLOTHES SHE WORE DAISY DUKES WITH A CROP TOP. SHE ALSO LOOKED OLDER THAN SIXTEEN. WE LEARNED LATER THAT THE BABYSITTER WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THIS OTHER GIRL, -redacted-, A LOCAL HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR.
WHEN WE ASKED TO SPEAK WITH HER PARENTS SHE EXPLAINED SHE WAS BABYSITTING AND COULDN’T LET STRANGERS IN, “ESPECIALLY WITH WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON.” SHE SPOKE THROUGH THE CRACKED-OPEN DOOR. THERE WAS A CRY FROM SOMEWHERE INSIDE THE HOUSE AND SHE CLOSED THE CRACK TIGHTER AND OFFERING UP A DISARMING SMILE.
WE DIDN’T WAIT. -redacted- TRIED TO KICK THE DOOR OPEN, BUT IT WOULDN’T BUDGE. THE AUF’S EYES TURNED BLOOD RED, DROPPING ITS FACADE IN THAT SPLIT SECOND AS IT RELIED ON ITS PRETERNATURAL STRENGTH. ITS LIPS PEELED BACK IN A GRUESOME SMILE, REVEALING FLESH AND ROTTEN GUMS. THAT’S WHEN I OPENED FIRE.
WE’RE TYPICALLY ASKED NOT TO USE FIREARMS IN THIS LINE OF WORK. -redacted- DOESN’T LIKE SPENDING THE MONEY ON CLEANUP. BUT IN THIS CASE, WITH CHILDREN ON THE LINE, IT WAS NECESSARY.
MY FIRST ROUND WENT THROUGH ITS NECK. I HEARD A CRASH FROM INSIDE AS THE BULLET RICOCHETED INTO A LAMP. WHEN THE ONLY RESULT OF MY SHOT WAS HER WIDENING GRIN, I LET OUT THE REST OF MY MAGAZINE. SIXTEEN SHOTS TO THE HEAD AND CHEST. IT WAS ON THE THIRD SHOT WHEN SHE STAGGERED BACK AND -redacted- WAS ABLE TO GET THE DOOR OPEN. BUT THE MOVEMENT DREW HIM OFF BALANCE, AND HE ENDED UP IN FRONT OF ME, BETWEEN ME AND THE GIRL.
SHE GRABBED HIM LIKE A VISE. I HEARD BONES SNAPPING AND HE CRIED IN PAIN. I REPLACED MY MAGAZINE WITH ONE CONTAINING SPECIAL SILVER-TIPPED BULLETS. BEFORE I COULD GET ANOTHER SHOT OFF HER EYES TURNED RED AGAINR AND SHE WHISPERED SOMETHING INTO HIS EAR. TWO WORDS.
“KILL HIM.”
THEN SHE THREW HIM AT ME AND TOOK OFF INTO THE HOUSE.
-there is a long pause here. It sounds like he covered the mic.-
-sniffs-
AFTER I TOOK CARE OF -redacted- I FOLLOWED THE BLOOD TRAIL UP THE STAIRS. IT STOPPED AT A CLOSED DOOR. BEHIND THE DOOR I COULD HEAR A LITTLE GIRL LAUGHING AND CRYING. I HEARD NOT-JESSICA’S VOICE. “IT TICKLES, DOESN’T IT? DON’T YOU LIKE BEING MADE OF CANDY?”
I OPENED THE DOOR AND STOPPED.
-there’s sounds of papers again, and he sounds like he’s resumed a different section of the script-
DANIEL AND BEATRICE WERE STANDING NEAR EACH OTHER, WITH BEATRICE’S HAND IN HIS MOUTH. SHE WAS MISSING HER FOREFINGER, AND DANIEL WAS WORKING ON HER THUMB. BLOOD RAN DOWN HIS FACE ONTO THE SHAG CARPET. BEATRICE WAS LAUGHING, WITH HAPPY TEARS POURING DOWN HER CHEEKS. SHE GIGGLED. ON THE FLOOR BETWEEN THEM WERE TWO SCREWDRIVERS, A KNIFE, SOME ROPE, AND A HAMMER.
NOT-JESSICA SPRANG AT ME AND I UNLOADED MY REMAINING SIX ROUNDS INTO HER CHEST. THE SILVER SEEMED TO DO THE TRICK.
BEFORE SHE DIED SHE TURNED TO ME, HER EYES RED. SHE BEGAN TO SPEAK. I COVERED MY EARS AND AVOIDED WHATEVER POWER SHE HAD. SHE TURNED TO DANIEL AND SPOKE TO HIM INSTEAD. TWO WORDS.
I KNEW ALREADY FROM MY EXPERIENCE WITH -redacted- THAT DANIEL WOULD NOT DISOBEY HER COMMAND. I TOOK A STEP BACK, HOPING THAT WHEN SHE PASSED— SHE WAS CLOSE. HER BODY WAS SHAKING AND HER RED EYES ROLLED WHITE— THE SPELL WOULD LOSE ITS POWER. BUT I WAS WRONG.
A RED FLASH PASSED BETWEEN NOT-JESSICA AND BEATRICE, AND SUDDENLY IT WAS JESSICA’S BODY LYING THERE IN THOSE DAISY DUKES AND THAT CROP TOP. I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO WORRY ABOUT BEATRICE, HOWEVER. DANIEL HAD GRABBED THE KNIFE.
HE WAS ONLY A KID. BUT HE WAS A KID WITH A KNIFE WHO WAS UNABLE TO STOP HIMSELF FROM TRYING TO MURDER ME. HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO RESTRAIN AN ANGRY CHILD? THEY’RE RELENTLESS.
HE THREW HIMSELF AT ME, BUT I STEPPED OUT OF THE WAY AND HE CONTINUED OUT THE DOOR. IT WAS THEN I HEARD BEATRICE START TO TALK.
I GRABBED DANIEL’S BASEBALL BAT FROM WHERE IT LEANED AGAINST THE WALL AND I SWUNG AT HER AS HARD AS I COULD. THE AUF HAD A HARDER TIME TRYING TO TALK TO ME WITH A BROKEN JAW.
I WAS DISTRACTED AND DIDN’T HEAR DANIEL REENTER THE ROOM. HE BURIED THE KNIFE TWO INCHES INTO MY SIDE BEFORE I SWUNG AROUND AND KILLED HIM. THEN I RELOADED MY FINAL MAGAZINE AND SHOT BEATRICE BETWEEN THE EYES WITH ANOTHER SILVER BULLET.
-there is another pause here. When he resumes speaking, he sounds tired.-
WHILE THIS WAS NOT A PROPER CHANGELING, THE GIRL HAD EFFECTIVELY BEEN REPLACED BY SOMETHING VILE. I CALLED FOR CLEANUP AND LEFT.
THIS IS THE TRUE STORY BEHIND THESE DEATHS. THE PEOPLE WHO KNEW THE TRUTH AND DIDN’T TELL YOU ARE CALLED -redacted-. YOU CAN SPEAK TO SENATOR -redacted- AND THEY WILL DENY THIS, BUT IT WILL RAISE HELL WITHIN -redacted-.
SHOULD YOU RECEIVE THIS TAPE, THAT MEANS THAT I HAVE MET AN UNTIMELY DEATH AND YOU SHOULD FOLLOW UP WITH -redacted- WHO CAN GIVE YOU MORE INFORMATION REGARDING -redacted-.
THIS IS JUST ONE STORY. THERE ARE MANY OTHERS.
-silence-
CLICK<

When I listened to that last tape my grandpa recorded, the one from 2008, I didn’t know what to make of it. So, naturally, I went back to the beginning. The tapes are numbered, and this one was #1.
I remember listening to this tape for the first time, sitting by myself in the guest room— well, in my room, I suppose. I remember feeling a chill creep into my bones as I listened to my grandpa tell this story. My fingers were numb as I opened up a browser on my iPad and searched for these dead children.
They didn’t exist.
I grew up in the age of Google. I know how to search for things. I’ve learned how to research and how to find shit, and let me tell you: those children didn’t exist.
I can’t begin to describe to you how I felt. Was this some sick sort of joke? I couldn’t believe that to be the case. I didn’t know my grandpa well at all, but I knew he was a serious man. So I decided to dig deeper.
“Hello?” She sounded a little older than I’d expected.
“Uh, hi, ma’am. Is this the -redacted- residence?” Sherin and Adem had a unique last name, and Fastpeoplesearch had turned up a result in Nebraska.
“Yes, it is.” The accented voice said. “Who is this?”
It was a shot in the dark. “I’m calling about your children, Sherin and Adem? I’m writing a paper, and—”
The line went dead. When I tried to call again the message said I’d been blocked. So I gave it an hour or so as I made lunch and then called from the house phone.
“Hello?”
“Ma’am, please don’t hang up. This is important.”
“No.” Her voice sounded stressed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and—”
“Adem and Sherin -redacted-, who died in the spring of 1979. I need to know if they were real.” I spoke quickly, trying to get my words out before she hung up again.
She didn’t hang up, but she was silent long enough that I thought she’d just left. Then, in a whisper, “Of course they are real. My boy and my little girl are real, no matter what they told me.”
“Wait, what did They tell you?” Was there something to this after all?
“I will not speak of this. Do not write your paper. Do not call back. Don’t ask any more questions.”
“But Ms. -redacted-, why—”
There was a click. I didn’t try calling back.
Somehow, these children have been erased from our history. Their stories don’t appear when you Google them. The people who knew them have been told… something. Whether they were scared off, threatened, bought off, or locked in asylums, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is that my grandpa was telling the truth.
Since then, I’ve found some of the “paraphernalia” he talked about in his tapes. I found a newspaper from summer of 1979 headlined, “THE BABYSITTER’S CLUB”.
The article talked about the dead children, all who had been left with their babysitters. It ended with a description of how the babysitters had been found with demonic books, bones, and “witches tools”, as well as serious amounts of LSD. They confessed to murdering those children for satanic purposes, though their friends continued to protest their arrests, claiming that they all had alibis.
Stapled to the paper from 1979 were notes from a 1983 study on using LSD and hypnosis to create fake memories.
These people are serious. They’re powerful. They have resources. Somebody commented on my last post that it sounded like I was in hiding. You’re not wrong.
For the most part, this house and this land are protected. But I’ve seen somethings in the last few weeks that have me looking over my shoulder. Some new lawyers showed up, claiming to be from “the estate” and asking to have a look around inside. I told them talk to my Gram’s lawyer and piss off. They didn’t like that, and assured me they’d be back.
I’ve got to go now. I’ve been searching the land for something my Gram talked about before she passed; about a place my grandpa liked to spend time at. I learned a lot about her and my grandpa before she died— like how he decided he didn’t want children anymore after a work trip in the late 70s.
I’ll update again, soon. I know it’s important for me to get these stories out. I need to find where my grandpa worked on these tapes first, though. I have a feeling that the measures he put in place to protect us aren’t working as well as he’d hoped, and I need more information on them.
But for now, keep letting me know what you think. Give me your insight and critiques on the situation and whether I was able to relay it to you clearly.
My next entry will hopefully give a bit more background on what’s happened to me more recently, and about the fiery lights in the sky I sometimes see at night. Grandpa talked about those, too, in tape #16. Maybe I’ll share that one with you next.
Stay safe. Keep watch.
submitted by Sdavis2911 to nosleep [link] [comments]

Cryopod Refresh 240: Commander Phoebe's Strategy

Phoebe Hiro, now the Head Commander of the Anti-Demon Resistance, paces back and forth in front of six hand-picked leaders of the various warfronts. Her guests sit on rocks set in the middle of the field not far behind the warp-gate encampment's western wall, while all of them face her and listen intently to what she has to say. Their names and ranks become unimportant as she looks at them with the eyes of a hawk. To the Hero's Wife, these people are merely weapons she must carefully wield in defense of humanity and its monster allies.
In the front row sits General Chadwick, Princess Brunhilda, and Corporal Hurent, along with Blinker, the monster queen. Behind them sits Lieutenant Samuel and Elder Skarde.
General Chadwick, Neil's number one. A black-haired Norwegian with a thick, three-inch-long beard. He wears a long, thin black coat, one designed to allow the air to cool him during the summertime, while his navy-blue military uniform underneath gives him a commanding presence. Chadwick's six-plus-foot height, in addition to his giant muscles and rotund belly, makes him stand out among all the others present. In social situations, he is the one who defeats his drinking opponents, while in grave situations, he is the strong and silent type.
Brunhilda, the Felorian princess. A chocolate-skinned, well-proportioned warrior with long white hair and countless white tattoos across her face and body. She wears only an animal-skin bra and loincloth, revealing her muscled abs and arms. As a tribeswoman, her domineering attitude comes not from stuck-up haughtiness, but from two decades of careful grooming by her parents, the former King and Queen of planet Feloria. Having bowed and acquiesced to the demons her whole life, she now sits and faces the Hero's Wife with a grave expression, knowing she may soon perish in battle while protecting her planet's tribes. At the least, she may enable a new future for her people, one where they no longer cower at the feet of their demonic oppressors.
Corporal Hurent, a decorated veteran with several military accomplishments. Her black hair sits in a ponytail, draped over her left shoulder, while Blinker sits on her right. Combined with her smooth, olive-green military uniform, and lightly bronzed white skin, she appears almost like a shorter, more tomboyish version of General Chadwick. Not bothering with makeup, she has a 'harder' edge to her appearance than Phoebe or Brunhilda, yet her eyes reveal she longs for the war to end. Battle is not in her nature, but merely her current call to action.
Blinker, the Monster Queen. She wears a tiny little set of cream-colored battle armor, crafted in advance by her mother two years prior. Her bright red hair contrasts with the white armor to give her the appearance of a cute little Valkyrie. When combined with her moth-like wings, the trifecta completes itself, making her resemble a battle-angel. Blinker sits on Corporal Hurent's right shoulder, the two of them somewhat close thanks to their interactions over the past few years.
Lieutenant Samuel, a hard-nosed man with a violent past. The ebony-skinned soldier sports several dreadlocks and a mean scar going across his forehead. He rests his elbows on his legs and leans forward, a look of intense concentration on his face. Combined with his camouflage-fatigues, he looks ready to step into the jungle and disappear amongst its foliage. Few of the leaders gathered have anywhere near the same intense look in their eyes, a testament to how much he hates the demons and what they've taken from him.
Finally, Elder Skarde, one of several tribal elders from the planet Locklorn. As their designated envoy, Skarde speaks for all the people of his world. His skin appears the darkest of all, giving him a rich, coal-colored hue capable of blending in with the night. Skarde's carefully maintained, short-cropped hair combines with his purple and gold robes to give him the air of a merchant king, one with money flowing like rivers. A peaceful man, Elder Skarde nevertheless sets aside his misgivings for the sake of his world. While he might prefer seeking peace with the demons and forgiving their transgressions, he likewise would never consider rolling over and letting them destroy his extended family. He draws a hard line in the sand, one he will never let the demons cross.
With all six of the most important leaders assembled before Phoebe, the recently promoted Tarus II Commander begins pacing back and forth.
"Thank you all for coming. I'd like to have gathered more people, but it's probably best if you simply relay today's briefings to the relevant subordinates. We don't have much time to waste, so I'll get right down to business."
Phoebe shoots a glance at the walls of the warp-gate encampment, listening for a moment to hear if any battles have broken out due to the warp-gate's unexpected opening. Luckily, everything remains quiet and calm.
"I don't know how long we have before the demons clear out the Core, but I do know they will, eventually," Phoebe begins, as she returns her attention to those assembled. "The question afterward is how long we have until the demons get the warp-gates back online."
Corporal Hurent raises her hand. "Commander, one thing has been bothering me. We destroyed the computers which control the Core's warp-gates. How can the demons reactivate them? Without the Core's server infrastructure, won't it be impossible for the demons to calculate Tarus II's travel vectors?"
The Corporal's question, prodding at the very nature of warp-gate travel, elicits several nods from the other leaders. After all, from what they understand, calculating the relative position of a planet in the vastness of space, its orbital position, its current facing, and the exact position of the warp-gate on said planet should be impossible without a vast amount of computing power to assist.
However, to the assembled leaders' surprise, Phoebe shakes her head. "Our opponent is no ordinary demoness. She is Ose, the Emperor of Infiltration, and the creator of warp-gate technology. Co-creator, technically, but a distinction which matters little in this context. I've spoken with Samantha on several occasions regarding Ose, and everything she's had to say about our enemy's abilities left me feeling shaken and worried. Ose's brain functions on a level far beyond ours, with unmuddled thoughts capable of computing information thousands of times more quickly than anyone else. She is, essentially, a living bio-computer."
Continuing, Phoebe adds, "Further, my husband once used Solomon's Crown to calculate the jump-vectors from Tarus II's warp-gate back to the Core. Kar watched him do it. If Jason can perform such a feat, I imagine the creator of warp-gate technology can do so as well."
The Commander's words end that line of questioning by the other generals. They fall silent and listen as Phoebe continues with her original train of thought.
Phoebe clears her throat. "Ahem. The battle for the Core was over far faster than anyone, especially Neil, first thought possible. Our enemies caught us off-guard with their new, armored soldiers. It seems likely they won't have any more of those terrifying Baron-level bastards available to hit us with, but we should naturally prepare for them. In the meantime, shifting to open terrain instead of the enclosed corridors of the Core will benefit humanity's forces greatly. Our weapons work best when engaging our enemies from a distance. The further they have to travel, the more time we have to kill them before they close the gap."
After pausing for a moment to rifle through her bag, Phoebe pulls out a tiny dime-sized device and presses it against the side of her head, just above her right ear. A small red LED on its side blinks twice once attached, then turns off. Afterward, she pulls out a baseball-shaped mechanical object, then lightly tosses it into the air. Elder Skarde and Brunhilda both reflexively flinch when the device doesn't fall to the ground, but instead stops in midair and hovers next to Phoebe.
"This is my Hovering Personal Assistant. I call him 'Happy.' Happy helps me with all sorts of things, but today, he'll be helping all of you to understand my thoughts."
Phoebe concentrates for a moment. She transmits images from her brain through the device stuck to her head and into Happy. In turn, the hovering metal baseball bobs in the air for a moment before beaming out a projected image of Tarus II's landscape, primarily the 20-mile range around and between Hero City and the warp-gate encampment.
The other leaders watch in fascinated silence as Phoebe points toward a small mountain range just over a mile north of the warpgate encampment. "This location is known as the Sphinx Mountain Range, and is going to be a critically important asset we must protect once the demons invade. How many of you have visited it before?"
Elder Skarde and Samuel both shake their heads. General Chadwick, Corporal Hurent, and Blinker all offer hesitant nods, while Brunhilda's are the most emphatic of all. Upon noticing the recognition in the Felorian Princess's eyes, Phoebe smiles. "Brunhilda, what makes you so familiar with that region?"
"I enjoy climbing mountains to gaze at the world from their vistas," Brunhilda replies. "Since that region offers a breathtaking view of the distant ocean, I have scaled it numerous times."
Phoebe's smile stretches further. "Did you ever happen to notice the artillery battlement I built there?"
A look of surprise appears on Brunhilda's face. The Felorian Princess scratches her head sheepishly. "Ah, no? What do you mean, Commander Hiro?"
"Three years ago, Jason and I worked together to build several fortifications for Tarus II. One of those happened to be a network of long range auto-cannon installations in the Sphinx Mountain Range. Observe."
Phoebe's robo-assistant, Happy, releases a cute high-pitched chirp. "Beep-boop!"
Immediately, a second hologram appears, one of a gigantic gun more than a hundred feet tall, with three cannon barrels aimed diagonally into the sky. The whole thing rests upon a square turret base, with rotatable joints and motors allowing it to adjust its firing angle and distance. The menacing weapon makes all of the leaders gathered raise their eyebrows in surprise.
"Wow!" Blinker gasps. "Phoebe, you built that thing? It's huge!"
Chadwick stands up and walks closer to more carefully scrutinize the artillery cannon. "Very impressive. Why have I heard nothing about this?"
"Because it's one of my many secret weapons," Phoebe says, a tricky smile playing upon her lips. "I call it a King Cannon. We've always worried about demonic spies in our ranks. Bad actors among our fellow humans and monsters might also be an issue, too. I built these cannons in absolute secrecy, telling only Jason and Solomon. Not even Samantha knows of their existence."
Elder Skarde snorts. "Just as well."
"Samantha will never betray humanity," Phoebe snaps, glaring viciously at the elder. "Don't think I've forgotten some of the hurtful things you said. I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut about her if you don't want my foot shoved where the sun doesn't shine."
Chadwick remains silent. As one of Neil's closest confidantes, he too has no trust for the succubus. Still, he knows better than to disparage her in front of Phoebe, especially given the circumstances.
"Ahem," Lieutenant Samuel clears his throat. "If I may. You mentioned cannons, plural. How many of these have you built?"
Phoebe turns away from Skarde to look at Samuel behind him. "Ten. They function by firing shells over long distances which explode shortly before striking the ground. These explosions release hundreds of iron rods, each one capable of stabbing through even the heaviest armor. No demon will be able to withstand a shelling from the King Cannons. I have several other types of ammunition present as well, including explosive munitions, poison gas, and acid for melting flesh. Needless to say, we must ensure our troops don't get caught in the crossfire."
"And," Phoebe adds, "that is one of the biggest problems we face. The King Cannons are explosively powerful and more than capable of turning tens of thousands of demons into puddles of blood. However, they lack precision. They're a double-edged sword capable of harming our soldiers. I plan to use them only if our troops fail to prevent the demons' advance from the warp-gate. That's why I will now move on to the next strategic point."
Commander Hiro disables the hologram for the King Cannon while Chadwick takes his seat. She returns to the original hologram, the one showing Tarus II's topography.
"On the north side of Hero City we have ten Covenant ships to protect. On the south side are the Pyramids. On the east, we have a mixture of forested woodlands and some hilly terrain. Between Hero City and the Warp-gate Encampment, we have the Horned Forest, with all manner of vicious predators hiding amongst its trees, and the vast open plains where we will most likely engage with demonkind if they take over the encampment. Looking at the encampment itself, we have the King Cannons to the north, Tarus II's great ocean to the west, and finally the southern side."
Phoebe clears her throat. "Here, we run into another problem. Some of you may not be familiar with the southern region, as we rarely go there. It's filled with canyons and ravines deep enough to kill anyone if they should stumble inside. The deepest one reaches half a mile into the planet's crust, so, needless to say, not many people go there. However, it is also home to another of my secret facilities."
"Another?" Corporal Hurent asks, her jaw turning slack. "Just how many facilities have you built?"
Phoebe's smile dims. "Too many to handle on my own, but not enough to guarantee our safety."
That reply makes the Corporal close her mouth and nod along silently. Phoebe continues by activating another hologram, this time showing a massive network of buildings carved into the side of a ravine. The facility stretches far enough into the distance that it goes past the edge of the hologram where nobody can see its end.
"By the Creator..." Lieutenant Samuel mutters. "You've been holding out on us."
"Indeed. This facility is one I haven't even told Jason about. I built it by myself."
Phoebe's casual attitude stuns everyone present. Blinker jumps off Corporal Hurent's shoulder and flies over to Phoebe. "What?! How could you build all that by yourself? That's impossible!"
While the fairy buzzes around the hologram with wide-open eyes, Phoebe chuckles. "Believe me, I did. Don't you remember six years ago, when Jason used to build houses and apartments for people with his Wordsmithing? I created a tool that could synthesize simple square structures out of energy, one which could project and build walls, ceilings, and floors. I built this facility with an upgraded version of that device."
A huge, giddy smile spreads across Chadwick's face. "Absolutely amazing. I never imagined we had a facility like this at our disposal, nor that you would be its sole builder. What is its function, Commander Hiro? Why did you build it in such an out-of-the-way location?"
"It's not out-of-the-way at all," Phoebe clarifies. "This facility's purpose is to create war-machines capable of leveling battlefields, and so I needed it somewhere close where I could send them barreling toward the front lines within minutes. That Planet-Walker I demonstrated earlier came from here, as well as many similar machines. I wanted to ensure we had extremely powerful trump cards prepared, should the demons ever invade. Secrecy was even more important, as I couldn't chance the demons learning of their existence."
Corporal Hurent raises her hand. "Hold on a moment. Regarding not only this robot-creation-facility, but also the King Cannons, how can we train enough people to pilot and control your machines? Those cannons look like they will require countless soldiers to aim and fire them, while the robots you've constructed will doubtless require intense training to use them to their fullest capacity. Have you trained anyone in secret as pilots? Or, perhaps... might these machines be fully autonomous?"
"Neither," Phoebe replies. "The Planet-walkers and other mecha are, indeed, autonomous, but I will require pilots inside them for target designation purposes. Each robot is capable of basic decision-making, but a human in the cockpit is our surest bet for strategically taking out demons wherever they appear. As for the King Cannons, the situation is similar. I will require a few personnel to man them for the sake of designating targets, but their roles will be minor. A bigger issue comes from fuel and munition supplies, which is the next thing I'd like to mention."
Phoebe waves away the southern facility's hologram, returning to the topographical Tarus II map.
"Look here. The King Cannons are immensely powerful, but they are also fragile. Once the demons figure out the cannons' location, if they choose to attack them, they can easily destroy them. I've protected the King Cannons, as well as my southern facility, with holographic obfuscation technology. Even up close, it's nearly impossible to locate the cannons, but every time they fire, the stealth net will go down for a moment, revealing their position. This will make it easy for the demons to find and destroy them."
Blinker nods. "Like Ose's mansion."
"Additionally," Phoebe continues, "the King Cannons have limited ammunition available. I always envisioned them as being supplementary to Jason and Hope's power, giving us a powerful area-attack, but with the Wordsmiths missing, they will end up being our primary suppression device against the demons. If so, then we'll need to establish munition supply lines to keep them continuously firing at all times. The supply line will come from the east side of Hero City up along the northern border until it reaches the Horned Forest. From there, it will continue until it reaches the Sphinx Mountain Range, where the personnel we place can take the shells and reload the King Cannons. At any point, demons might disrupt this supply line, thus rendering the cannons useless. Without ammunition, they will be little more than giant, decorative statues atop the mountains."
Brunhilda pipes up. "So, you wish for me to take control of protecting the King Cannons?"
"That's right. While the number of personnel required to operate the King Cannons is minimal, we will need a substantial number of troops available to guard the mountains themselves from demonic attacks. Think you're up to the task?"
"Naturally," Brunhilda replies.
Phoebe nods. "Good. I have some positive news to report as well, which you all will doubtless find comforting."
She touches the hologram and draws a circle around the warp-gate encampment. "I came up with a temporary fix for the burrower problem. I didn't want them to easily breach our lines by burrowing under us, so I cobbled together a few experimental devices. I call them 'seismic mines.' They detonate when they detect seismic activity nearby. If the Burrowers try to dig a tunnel near a seismic mine, they will perish a quick, explosive death."
Blinker lands on Phoebe's shoulder. "When the heck did you make those?"
"Today," Phoebe says. "Took me about eight hours. I only synthesized a couple hundred of them, and I attached them to mechanical moles to ensure they end up deep beneath our feet. However, given my limited amount of time, I only managed to surround the warp-gate encampment with them, as well as place a few beneath Hero City. Once a few Burrowers explode, they'll doubtless be able to continue forward, unabated. Luckily, the sensors will still give me an idea of where they're headed."
"You think of everything." Brunhilda says, admiration in her eyes.
"I wish that were the case. I'm only human, so I can't anticipate a demon's thought processes. Doubtless, Ose is sure to find a gap in our defenses. Don't get starry-eyed on me, not unless we actually survive this awful war."
Once again, Phoebe points at the holographic map. "Look over here, to the west of the encampment. There are thirty-seven miles of unprotected land between here and the ocean. If the demons escape in that direction, they'll be able to spread out and go around our borders, as I haven't built any defenses in that area. The King Cannons can certainly fire that far, but their accuracy and coverage will decrease substantially. Lieutenant Samuel, I'll rely on you to keep an eye on the western and southern sides of the encampment, while Princess Brunhilda will be in charge of guarding the Sphinx Mountains to the north. We cannot let the demons stake out a safe haven to the west. If they do, they'll likely summon countless portals to the Labyrinth, removing our chokepoint advantage. We have to keep them pinned down at the Tarus II warp-gate, or else they will rapidly overwhelm us with numbers."
Samuel nods. "As long as I get to kill bloodskins, you can count me in."
Phoebe frowns. "Demons, Lieutenant. Demons. Enough with the god-damned slurs."
"I don't care if you like my language or not," Samuel says, his face emotionless. "Bloodskins killed my brother. They butchered him like livestock. Don't preach to me that compassion nonsense. In my eyes, they're all filthy animals in need of extermination."
"Demons tortured my people for countless generations," Elder Skarde chimes in. "We have known nothing but fear and subservience to the bloodskins my whole life. Commander Phoebe, you may feel some twinge of compassion for the murderous wretches, but we do not. We only fight the bastards because of the horrors they've exacted upon us. If you want our help, then you will find a way to deal with our feelings."
After seeing the other two leaders stand up for their beliefs, Chadwick adds his two cents. "With all due respect, Commander, how many demons do you know who are righteous and pure? One? Ten? A hundred? You may have the utmost faith in Belial and others like her, but we do not. I have fought alongside Neil and Hope countless times when rescuing human slaves from the core. Some of the things I saw..."
The General starts to fall silent, only to notice a look of curiosity in the faces of Elder Skarde and Princess Brunhilda, both of whom have never stepped foot in the Labyrinth except for its Core.
"I saw a young man who was half-dead," Chadwick mutters, his voice low. "the poor kid had all the skin on his back melted and fused together. His bloodskin tormentor pressed him against a wall after burning him, then left him there, with his skin stuck to the stone. When Hope found him, the boy was half-dead and delirious with pain. It took Hope fifteen minutes of Wordsmithing to heal the boy's injuries. The lad later killed himself because of the lasting mental pain we couldn't erase."
General Chadwick glances at Phoebe, noticing with interest that for once, she doesn't appear angry at his words. "That boy was not the exception, but the rule. The bloodskins treat us worse than cattle, worse than bugs. They enjoy our suffering. I see no way we can ever truly cohabit with them. Perhaps you might be capable of picking out one or two decent ones, but the rest are all irredeemable, violent psychopaths. We must eradicate them for the good of the galaxy."
Despite a three-pronged verbal assault from Samuel, Elder Skarde, and Chadwick, Phoebe appears unmoved.
"Do you think I don't know all that?"
Commander Hiro tilts her chin up slightly, allowing her to look down upon the still-seated Chadwick.
"I'm well aware of the atrocities demons have committed. I am not Jason, and as such, I don't believe in trying to save all, or even most of them. My husband is a good man. He tries to look at demons as sinners, those who were led astray early in their history. They were born from bloodshed, and so that is all they know. Or so Jason claims."
Phoebe raises her hand and waggles a finger. "I do not think the same thoughts as Jason, General Chadwick. I do not believe demons are necessarily redeemable, but I do believe that they are not irredeemable. That is why I find myself disgusted when you refer to them with such gross, offensive slurs. Not because I think your hatred is misguided, but because as long as we treat them as inherently evil villains, we will never have even a chance to mend the rift between our species. Hate the demons and wish for their deaths all you want, for I will not stop you from thinking such thoughts. However, please understand that we humans must be better than our enemies. We must show them with our conduct that, so long as they own up to their actions and accept the appropriate punishment, we will always be willing to forgive, if not forget their pasts."
The Commander falls silent, allowing her words to germinate in the ears of those present. Blinker sits on her shoulder silently, saying nothing, while Brunhilda and Corporal Hurent stew in their own private thoughts.
General Chadwick rubs his knee contemplatively. "Hrm. I do not fully understand why you so often choose to defend the demons. Perhaps I never will. I merely wish you would not try to dissuade people from referring to the demons as 'bloodskins,' like they deserve."
"'Deserve' is a strong word, General," Phoebe retorts. "From what I've gathered, humanity stomped on the faces of the demons countless generations ago, and they retaliated in kind. Do we not deserve hatred from them as well?"
"That is a different situation entirely."
"So you claim," Phoebe snaps back. "But, if you so desperately wish to lump all the members of a sentient species under one definition, I suppose I cannot stop you. We haven't time to sit here and wax philosophical about our beliefs, so let's just hold off on the comebacks for today. If we survive this invasion, we'll return to this discussion at a later time."
Chadwick nods. "Very well."
Elder Skarde and Samuel both share a glance with one another, revealing neither of them plans to change their minds, but at the least, they fall silent to allow Phoebe's continued debriefing.
"Right. Let's finish this, then," Phoebe says. The Commander disables the Tarus II topographical map, and instead summons a series of images of various soldiers standing at attention, all of them wearing basic military uniforms with T-REX's strapped across their chests.
"I've finished doling out the new exosuit models I prepared in advance. Allow me to debrief you on their functionality."
The first trooper's image shimmers and shifts, adorning him in a shiny silver armor, one which all of the generals are familiar with.
"This is the basic T-REX, a mass-produced model with no obvious flaws that merely enhances the average human warrior's speed and durability to beyond that of a Demon Lord. It also helps with aim assist on projectile-based weapons, and features a low-level pilot-assistance mode capable of augmenting its wearer's dodging capabilities mid-battle. An excellent suit for any beginner, but one the demons have long grown used to seeing."
The next trooper also shifts his appearance, appearing in a silver-and-red exosuit with a few utility modules attached to its arms and waist. The red coloration extends in a cross-like shape across the trooper's chest.
"This is Mark I of the Clinician battlesuit. It has lower strength and speed than the basic T-REX, but in exchange, it features greater durability and advanced pilot assistance support. I designed it with our battlefield medics in mind. We can't rely on rescue devices to save all of our downed troops, so having field medics on hand will be essential to saving as many lives as possible. The Clinician also features several medical devices capable of prolonging a dying soldier's life, including nano-injectors to seal and repair wounds."
Corporal Hurent, one of the more technically-minded of the leaders present, nods appreciatively. "I'd have liked to have a few of those on hand when we fought in the Core."
"As would we all," Phoebe replies.
The Commander moves on to the third exosuit, one with an identical silver coloring scheme to the first exosuit, but with four 'struts' sticking out of its back.
"Previously, we've had to rely on Harpies for their excellent battlefield mobility and flight capabilities. Now, we have another option. The Mark I Hummer is our first flight-capable battlesuit, but I've only managed to manufacture fifty of them, so far. The wing struts on the back allow for limited durations of swift flight, but extended amounts of hovering capabilities. Think of them as mobile sniper platforms, rather than flying assault weapons."
"I can already imagine several uses for the Hummer," Chadwick says, his voice low.
Phoebe doesn't reply. She activates the next hologram, revealing a truly menacing-looking exosuit, one with gold and black coloration, a metal horn on its helmet, and two others on its shoulders. With much bulkier armor than the previous exosuits, as well as a long impaling rod sticking out above each wrist, it looks like a nasty melee-capable battlesuit.
Audible gasps go up among the leaders present, making Phoebe smile.
"This is the Mark I Rhino. Truly exclusive, I've only made twenty of them. Each is a precious asset, featuring fifty percent thicker armor than other exosuits and razor-sharp nanite rods for 'sticking it' to the demons. Advanced cooling capabilities also make it effectively immune to flame-based attacks from all but the most extreme sources. I designed them for frontline usage, improving the power of each of our best commandos. Naturally, I hope you'll be the first to try one out, Samuel."
Lieutenant Samuel grins evilly. "Oh, yes. I'll be able to do a lot of damage with one of those."
"I'm sure you will. Let's finish with the last two suits, both of which you should all be familiar."
This time, the holographic trooper shifts his appearance into a stealthy jet-black exosuit, one with the same sleek design as the basic exosuit model, but fewer 'cracks' it its surface. Most notably, four long, metallic 'tendrils' stick out of its back and writhe around like an ant's antennae.
Chadwick blinks in surprise. "A Spectre? We have hundreds of those already, don't we?"
"Correct. This Spectre is different, though, as it's a second generation exosuit. I'm sure all of you have noticed the odd-looking tendrils on its back. I call them 'Needlers,' and they will be key for maximizing the Mark II's improvements over the first generation. In addition to greatly improved passive stealth capabilities in shadow, the Mark II Spectre can initiate Level III cloaking at will, granting it five minutes of near-perfect stealth capabilities. Most importantly, it now features nearly infinite Level II stealth capabilities, meaning it can remain invisible indefinitely so long as the user keeps their movement to a minimum. It will be excellent for setting up ambushes."
"What function do the 'Needlers' perform?" Brunhilda asks. "They look like headless black snakes."
"More than you can imagine," Phoebe replies. "The Needlers allow the user to scale walls and cliffs, assassinate multiple enemies at once, manipulate tools, and countless other such feats. Think of them as four additional limbs, each one stronger and much more flexible than your arm. They can wrap around an enemy's neck to choke him out, or they can pick locks by deforming their shape... the possibilities are endless."
"Amazing as always, Miss Hiro," Chadwick says, bowing his head respectfully. "If we had these suits during the Core invasion, perhaps we could have defeated the demons instead of suffering such a terrible loss."
Phoebe purses her lips. "Not necessarily. The Spectre suits sacrifice durability and defensive capacity in exchange for speed and stealth. Their offensive-power is also sub-par, making them only good for assassination and espionage. In a giant arena like the Core, Spectre pilots would have perished the fastest."
"Ah. I'll defer to your expert opinion, then," Chadwick mutters, slightly embarrassed.
Phoebe clears her throat. This time, when the last trooper shifts his appearance, looks of surprise appear on Chadwick, Corporal Hurent, and Samuel's faces.
"Hm?" Samuel says. "Isn't that...?"
"Yes," Phoebe replies. "It's the suit Neil wore during the Core invasion: The Thundercat Mark II."
The final trooper hologram changes to reveal a bright blue, red, and golden exosuit, one with a bulky golden gauntlet on its left wrist. Three Wolverine-like blades stick out of the gauntlet, suitable for ripping and tearing, while the trooper also sports a vicious-looking nanosword in his right hand.
"Another Mark II," Chadwick marvels. "It's much flashier than the Mark I, particularly with its coloration. You must have given Neil one before the battle."
"His bodyguards too," Phoebe affirms. "Neil didn't get much time to learn its many functions, and sadly, neither will our troops. However, I'll tell you right now what to expect. The Transforming Exogauntlet on its left arm is a powerful utility item comparable to the Spectre's Needlers. It can become a hammer, a blade, a shield, or anything you need for the situation at hand. Merely describe a shape, and Centurion will attempt to replicate it."
Phoebe gestures toward the holographic trooper's right hand. "This nanosword is equally dangerous. When combined with the Thundercat's reinforced defensive capabilities, it will allow its pilot to fight on the front lines alongside our Rhino-wearing troopers. Since the Thundercat Mark II is a modification of the Mark I, we already have several thousand of them available, along with the new Spectres. I advise you to quickly debrief your troops about the additional functions of these new exosuits, as we won't have much time to train them in their various intricacies once the demons invade."
After taking a long, deep breath, Phoebe exhales.
"Alright. Let's wrap this up. Any questions?"
Chadwick runs his fingers through his beard. "Do you have anywhere you'd like to station us?"
"Ah! I almost forgot. Thank you for reminding me."
Phoebe re-engages the topographical map and points toward the southern side of Hero City.
"Over here, this area is part of the southern prison complex, where I've created a specialized Demon Containment Facility. We must ensure the demons don't locate Beelzebub and Artorias. Keep them locked up at all costs. Corporal Hurent, I'm putting you in charge of defending the prison."
The Corporal nods. "Yes, Commander. I'm already familiar with their layout, as I took our prisoners there earlier."
"Good. I'll need you to pull double-duty keeping an eye on Hero City's eastern flank, too. The south and east sides are among our most vulnerable, so if the demons break containment from the warp-gate, I want to know at once if they reach our flanks."
Phoebe turns her attention toward the others. "Princess Brunhilda. As stated before, you're in charge of protecting the King Cannons and their supply line. Samuel, you're in charge of guarding the southern and western side of the warp-gate encampment. Chadwick, I want you on command duty for the vast majority of our main forces, particularly between Hero City and the encampment. However, Elder Skarde, you may have the most complex job of all."
Elder Skarde frowns. "In what way?"
"You'll be our final defensive line. You will protect Hero City, especially the north side's Covenant ships. You must ensure Burrowers don't make it past our defensive lines, and that any Warpers get taken out before they can circle around to our flanks."
"I will do my best," Skarde replies.
Blinker hops off Phoebe's shoulder and flies around excitedly. "Ooh, ooh, what about me? What do I get to do?"
Phoebe smiles. "Are you fully healed?"
"Yeppers! Samantha got me all fixed up! Kar's still healing, though. I dunno when he'll be ready to return."
Phoebe's smile deepens. The memory of what Blinker told her before the debriefing, regarding Daisy, leaves butterflies in her stomach. However, for some reason, she keeps her mouth shut and doesn't mention it in front the other leaders.
"That's good. I'm glad we have Samantha at times like this. Well, even if Kar isn't back, I hope we can rely on you for support against the demons wherever they appear."
"Duh!" Blinker giggles. "I'll smush 'em flat! Those big red dummies won't know what hit 'em!"
Phoebe pokes Blinker's stomach playfully. Just watch yourself out there. If anything happened to you, it would devastate Kar."
Blinker rolls her eyes. "Psh. Don't you know who I am? I'm the Monster Queen. I'm strong as heck!"
Despite the fairy's tough words, Phoebe's eyes grow distant. "Yeah. But... be careful. Kar already lost one wife. I don't want to imagine what losing a second would do to him. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."
With one last, heavy sigh, Phoebe turns to the assembled leaders. "Alright, dismissed. Get out there and make Neil proud. If he's still alive, we'll mount a rescue operation once we survive this war."
Chadwick rises off his rock and raises an eyebrow. "You suddenly sound more confident than before."
Phoebe nods. "Neil always says a leader must look strong for his troops. I can only hope to live up to that ideal."
"As can we all. Words to live by," Chadwick mutters. With a nod of the head, he turns to leave. "I'll see you on the battlefield, Commander Hiro."
"Likewise," Phoebe replies.
The waning sun begins to fade behind clouds to the west, setting on the world of Tarus II and bringing the cover of darkness. As the humans disperse, with Blinker riding on Phoebe's shoulder, they all gaze at the setting sun with wistful eyes.
.......................................
Artwork time!
Basic T-REX.
Clinician T-REX.
Hummer T-REX.
Rhino T-REX.
Spectre T-REX.
Thundercat T-REX
This is Brunhilda!
submitted by Klokinator to TheCryopodToHell [link] [comments]

There’s a secret part of the funeral industry that nobody else knows about

Most people know the word “embalming,” but few people actually know what it means. Embalming is a process through which the blood of the deceased is replaced by a concoction of a known carcinogen, formaldehyde, and other chemicals. This is done by accessing an artery and a corresponding vein, making slits in each, and inserting an instrument called a cannula into the artery through which embalming fluid is pumped. The blood will be forced out of the vein and flows down the porcelain embalming table into the drain. After this step, a large, pointed suction tube called a trocar is stabbed into the abdomen to aspirate, or suck out the contents of, each of the organs within.
Now, you have to be careful and wear gloves in order to embalm, of course, because you can get Hepatitis or worse- Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. The latter is a prion disease, similar to “mad cow disease,” that can be transmitted through blood. The prions eat away at your brain, driving you to a state of severe dementia, crippling you to a shell of a person that can hardly function, until you die.
On a happier note, it always warms my heart to see young people with an interest in the industry- one day those little deathlings will grow into the next great generation funeral directors. The one day of the year I don’t welcome kids is Halloween. I know, I know, it probably seems like I’m a killjoy or a sour old woman, but Halloween seems to bring out the mischief in young folks. More than a couple times, I’ve had to threaten to call the police as teenagers tried to break into my mortuary. That seemed to make them quite angry, but they scattered once they heard (completely unrelated) sirens coming down the street. I’d never actually called. They were probably thinking it would be spooky to trespass in a funeral home on Halloween night, but I was thinking about the merchandise they might scratch up in the process and the damage they could do to the expensive cremation retort.
Cremation is an interesting process. It’s actually more than just burning a body and turning it to ash. When a body enters the retort, after the door closes, a large column of flame is shot down onto the chest area- the torso takes the longest to burn because of all the organs and fat that are contained there. Once the organic material (flesh, fat, organs- anything carbon-based) has been eliminated by the retort’s 1700-degree fires, the remaining material in the machine consists of bone fragments. These are left to cool, then they are removed and ground up by a large, blender-like machine called a cremulator. The dust and tiny bits of bone that come out of the cremulator is the “ash” that you, the loved one, receive back.
Last year, on a crisp autumn evening, I was preparing to close up early for Halloween. I was about to lock up and head to my car, when I noticed a group of teenage boys circling in the parking lot, occasionally putting their faces up to the tinted windows to try and see inside. There were five of them. I rolled my eyes and was going to just try and walk past them, ignoring their taunts, but then the water balloons started.
Just as I stepped through the door to leave, they started pointing and yelling.
“That’s her! That’s the witch who runs this place! GO!” I felt a big, wet splat as the first water balloon splashed straight into my face. My hair and the front of my jacket were soaked immediately. My eyes widened at the audacity of these children. Did nobody teach their kids to respect their elders anymore? Shock quickly turned to panic.
Another water balloon exploded into the window to my right. Hurriedly, I fumbled for the building keys and slipped back inside. There was no way I was getting back to my car without getting absolutely drenched. I caught my breath and sighed, sauntering over to the bathroom and drying my face with our rough paper towels. My hair was still dripping, so I went back into the embalming room, also known as the prep room, to find a spare towel. I could still hear the kids yelling outside, and it was at this point that the water balloons were exchanged for rocks. BANG! BANG! BANG! on the windows. They pelted rock after rock until they finally found one big enough to do some damage. I heard the glass begin to crack, and my poor old heart just couldn’t take it anymore. I dialed the police.
As most of you probably know, Halloween is a big night for crime, and cops are stationed throughout the city to keep kids safe. So when I called 9-1-1 and the police didn’t answer, I wasn’t totally surprised. No, what surprised me was that there was not even a dial tone. The funeral home’s landline had been cut off. Part of being a senior is not being glued to a cell phone all the time, and I rarely brought mine to work, so I was out of options, phone-wise. I heard raucous laughter coming through the new crack in my window as the next round of rocks hit.
This time, they crashed through the pane altogether. Startled, I jumped and looked around wildly. Where could I go? What was the safest place to hide?
The refrigerator. It had a 6-inch thick stainless steel door, but the door didn’t lock. It also had four bodies. Suddenly, a lightbulb went on in my head. As the crashing stopped, I quickly wheeled an empty gurney into the fridge, unzipped the body bag on top of it, and crawled in. I was able to fiddle the zipper back up so that only a little bit was open- that way I would have some airflow. The old bag carried the unmistakable scent of decomposing cadavers, despite having just been washed. It’s the kind of smell that sticks to things.
The fridge door had closed on its own, but I was still able to hear the footsteps of the five boys as they entered my place of business uninvited.
“Mrs. Calhouuuun…” a voice called, tauntingly.
“You should have let us iiiin,” another chimed in. I heard the sound of metal scraping against metal and imagined my beautiful show caskets being marred by insolent teenagers.
Somewhere up front, a ceramic urn shattered on the floor. Then, the footsteps grew closer. And closer. Until they were just outside of the fridge. I clamped my mouth shut so as not to allow any whimpers to escape. I didn’t know what these boys intended for me, and I was hardly in any shape to defend myself. I forced myself to pull it together, because I had to stop shaking if I was to be a believable corpse. I heard the WHOOSH! of air that always accompanies the fridge door opening. I shut my eyes, praying that they wouldn’t recognize me if I acted dead enough.
“Mrs. Calho- OH SHIT! Guys! I found where they keep the bodies!” This was followed by the slamming of the door and a chorus of “No way!”s and “Where?”s. Eager footsteps shuffled up to the fridge door as the boy who seemed to be their leader re-opened the door, whispers sussurating in the darkness of the embalming room behind him. The fridge light flicked on, and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. Please, please, please just go away, I thought to myself, but in they came.
I slowed my breathing as much as I possibly could to try to create the illusion of a still chest that had long ago taken its last breath. The boys filed in. Once all five of them were in the refrigerator, the heavy metal door clicked shut behind them.
“Look at that one! God damn, that looks like it hurt,” one of the older ones remarked at the suicide-by-handgun victim.
“I dare you to touch one,” came a younger voice, giggling as he spoke.
“You touch it first!” replied the first boy.
“No way!”
“I’ll touch it.” I recognized this deeper voice as the leader’s. My breath caught as I heard the bag to my right being unzipped. The empathetic part of me began to rage due to the boys’ disrespect for the dead. How would the decedents’ families feel about kids poking and prodding their loved ones just for the fun of it?
I heard the leader exhale in anticipation, and then, a moment later, he declared,
“There. Done. You guys are such pussies.” The gang chuckled nervously. I heard another bag unzip, the one furthest from me. The suicide victim that had come in last night. The leader spoke again,
“I’m gonna stick my finger in the bullet hole.”
“No way, fuck that, dude,” scoffed one voice.
“Touch her brain!” another chimed in. There was a moment of silence, the air electric with anticipation. I could hear the sickening squelch of a finger sinking into the deep bullet wound on the side of the decedent’s skull. Gasps followed. The squelching sound came again as he began to pull his digit out, and he suddenly cried out.
“What is it?” someone asked.
“Nothing,” said the leader, exhaling, “just nicked my finger on a skull fragment.”
“Dude, that is so fucking metal!” commented one. They laughed and poked a few more times, then got bored rather quickly.
“Alright, this is lamer than I thought. Hey, I bet they have one of those cremation machines here, want to see what a real fire looks like?” The others agreed eagerly and were about to file out of the fridge when I heard another zipper. And another. That was four zippers total, and there were four bodies in my fridge, excluding mine.
“What was that?” a young teen asked voice trembling. I dared to open my eyes, just the tiniest bit, and tried to move them without moving my head or neck. The boys were still standing in the fridge, and the door they had opened to leave slammed back shut. A few of them jumped. Then, the chaos began.
I saw blurs to my right moving towards the boys more quickly than I’d seen anything move in my life. Screams erupted from the group as they pushed open the door to frantically scurry out. When I heard the door shut again, I cautiously began to unzip myself. As I got out, I looked over at the other body bags. That was it- just body bags. Empty. A chill ran down my spine, but I figured the boys were distracted for the moment and it was time to make my great escape.
Tentatively, I swung my legs over the edge, listening to the blood-curdling screams on the other side of the door, unsure of what awaited me out there. In spite of my fears, I gathered myself and pushed open the door, peering around the corner. The screaming sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once, and my brain told me to RUN. But I didn’t run. Curiosity got the better of me.
I followed a scream into the crematory, arriving just in time to see the thick, mechanical door closing. With a person inside. I gasped and was about to lunge for the control panel when I saw it. Standing there, swollen fingers hovering over the ‘ON/OFF’ switch, was a living corpse. Notice that I didn’t say zombie- zombies were mindless, brain-eating idiots. This was something else entirely. The cadaver may have had clouded-over eyes and pieces of skin falling off, but it was no idiot. This corpse knew exactly what it was doing. It switched on the machine. The shrieks inside became louder and more frantic, until I heard the rush of flame come down from the roof of the machine. Then, the screams began to sound like someone trying to gargle molasses. Thick, hacking coughs followed, until finally, the only sound left was the flame.
Another cadaver shuffled in, dragging a hollering teenager behind it. This boy carried a firearm, which was promptly kicked away by the corpse dragging him. I scurried over to it and snatched it up, while the second corpse dragged his victim toward the cremulator. Flicking the machine on, the corpse jerked back the boy’s head so that its fingers could peel back his eyelids. It wanted him to watch. The heavy-duty blades began to spin faster and faster, sharp and ready to crush bone.
“No…” he groaned weakly, but the corpse pushed his head closer into the bladed bucket until his screaming was silenced by a moist THWACK, followed by the sound of a crunching skull.
Hand over my mouth, and a firearm in the other, I snuck out of the crematory and into the prep room. What greeted me was worse than what I had just seen. One of the younger boys, rock still in hand from when they were barraging my windows, laid on the embalming table closest to me, trying to bash a corpse’s head in with his weapon. His efforts were futile and the deceased easily overpowered him, even with just one arm. The other arm was reaching for the trocar. Once the hollow, elongated needle was attached to a suction hose, the corpse went to work.
I watched the boy’s skin dimple as it stabbed the instrument into his abdomen just above the belly button. The boy let out a haunting screech of pain. I watched as the tube sucked out the contents of his stomach. The corpse pulled the instrument halfway out before giving it another hefty shove, this time aiming for his chest cavity. I saw the contents of his lungs as they were punctured and whisked away by the machine. Lastly, it punctured his heart. The machine made a sickening gurgling sound as it sucked the blood from his heart. He was dead.
But the boy on the other embalming table wasn’t- not yet. The fourth corpse, my gunshot suicide victim, held him in place as it picked up a scalpel from a nearby drawer. The boy’s eyes flitted fearfully back and forth, but all he could manage was a pitiful whimper. The corpse approached his neck with the scalpel and applied pressure to his skin. Blood began to trickle down his neck as he yelped. The corpse then jabbed its finger deep into the incision, searching for the carotid artery. Once the artery had been raised and the vein had been separated, it made precise little slices in both the artery and the vein. Blood began to spurt freely from the boy’s neck, spilling onto the porcelain table and swirling down the drain. For the first time, a corpse acknowledged me. It turned, still holding the boy down, and its eyes met mine. I had expected to feel fear, but instead, I felt numb. Then, it gestured to the empty embalming machine. I realized he was asking for chemicals. As if hypnotized, I pulled formalin and a couple other secret ingredients from the cabinets while the corpse filled the machine’s tank halfway with water, then I handed the supplies to it. Its fingers brushed mine, and they were cold. So cold. Refrigerated skin. I shuddered, backing slowly away as the corpse inserted the cannula into the dying boy’s artery to fill his veins with harsh carcinogens. Even from across the room I could feel my eyes burning from the formaldehyde.
Finally, I made it to the front of the building. The carpet was littered with broken glass and rocks, and the sides of my caskets had been keyed. Several urns lay shattered on the floor. Tears began to roll down my face. They had destroyed everything.
Standing guard before the front door was the boys’ leader. I could recognize his voice when he began to laugh sinisterly, though I could see tears staining his cheeks.
“You think you and your zombie army can kill my friends and get away with it?” he asked rhetorically, baseball bat swinging at his side. I felt my grip tighten around the gun, even though I had never used one before and probably didn’t know how to if I needed to. He advanced on me, bashing the bat threateningly into the side of an 18-gauge stainless steel casket. I jumped at the sound, backing up ever-so-slightly. I had to do something. I had to make up my mind. I wasn’t going to die in my own funeral home.
Slowly, hands shaking, I raised the gun, aiming just above his head. The boy froze and his eyes widened.
“You wouldn’t…” he trailed off.
“Wouldn’t I?” I replied, voice firm and steady for the first time since our encounter. He took a menacing step forward and I somehow managed to fire off a shot into the carpet in front of his feet. A puddle made itself apparent at the base of the boy’s jeans. He hesitated for a moment, considering his options. Then, he turned and fled, leaving his baseball bat behind. I sighed heavily and let the gun drop at my feet, wiping the fear-sweat from my brow and wondering if they would have used the gun on me had they had the chance.
I turned back toward the prep room and crematory, which were both now suspiciously quiet. Slowly, I crept into the back, half-wondering if this had all just been a fever dream. There was blood everywhere, but curiously, there were no bodies. Well, except for the perfectly still four bodies that I found zipped up in the freezer. It was as if they had never moved at all. I shook my head, accepting that there were some things about death that even a funeral director can’t possibly understand. I grabbed my cleaning spray from the prep room and went to work.
The police called it a “break-in,” and the four boys that died in my mortuary were listed as missing. There was no knowledge of their whereabouts prior to their disappearances. They wouldn’t ever be found. The leader of the group, whose name I eventually learned was James Cooke Jr. from the obituary, seemed to have suffered the worst fate out of any of them. Less than a year after the incident, James’ body was released from the medical examiner’s office with the cause of death listed as Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. The prions took over his fragile mind and consumed his personality until he was nothing but a living ghost. Then, after months of torture, he finally expired.
I’m even older now, even if it’s just by a year, but by God, I’ve never felt so youthful and alive. The business is thriving, and I won’t be needing to call the cops on Halloween any more. I couldn’t ask for a better life, and now, I no longer fear death. So for all you young folks out there, be good to your local businesses on Halloween, and remember: If you decide to mess with a funeral director, you might be making a grave mistake.
submitted by pan_kayke to nosleep [link] [comments]

Entitled Biatch and her Spawn ruin my sister's 9th birthday party at Great Wolf Lodge... Gets arrested by the town's Chief of Police with his grandkids nearby...

This was made on laptop, and even though I just graduated from High School, my grammar is still shit... English is main, and, go read it, we've got nothing really better to do during quarantine...
This is all true because it happened, like almost back in January, I remembered this adventure because of a similar story from another guy, his story will be linked at the bottom...
(Can someone please tell me WTF a TL;DR is? I still can't figure it out...)

Anywho, let's meet the cast of our Lodge Adventure!

Cast:
Me - Cookie
Sis - I can't figure out how this didn't ruin her time...
Mom - Mine and Sis's mother
Grandma - Mine and Sis's grandma, and Mom's mother
EM - I AM SATAN, LORD OF DARKNESS!!! Maybe around 32?
EB - Satan's reject, is a kid maybe about 6 or 7ish?
ED - A literal demon Tarzan who conveniently is gone when things got hairy... She was 11? Maybe 10?
ET - Not the alien, sorry. The teen daughter and a possible stalker to me...
COP - Chief of Police
GD1 - COP's grandson
GD2 - COP's granddaughter (both were really well behaved and both about 5, I swear that they were twins...)

Anyways, let's go, if you're still reading this, then congrats! You've just read the longest cast I've ever wrote! *sarcastically claps*
Sorry I'm in a bit of a mood where I want to be sarcastic, and a bit of an ass...
Background stuff...
Now then, my sister (Sis) was always wanting to go to Great Wolf Lodge for 4 years, and Mom and Grandma decided to blow a few bucks and get a room with the small treehouse in it and tons more stuff. They spoiled her this time, but if she ever acted spoiled during this, my Grandma would (no joke) knock her upside the head. "Knocking some sense into her." is what Grandma called it, don't worry she did it to me too, and it wasn't hard, just enough to let you know that she wasn't happy with you and you'd better stop...
So because Sis was the birthday girl, she got a little headband with wolf ears and a little party hat stitched on top, it looked cute. But, I was shocked when it turns out, it was also to celebrate my BDay too. My sister and I have our birthdays 13 days apart, so I can see where it save a bit of money. The hotel staff was very understanding that I an almost 18 year old at the time, did not want all of that attention, so a few of the staff just gave me a Tag that allowed me to go and hangout in the arcade, it was nice. The tag was like a Chuck E. Cheese pass where you can play for a certain amount of time, but had infinite credits during that time. The tag had about 6 hours on it per day. How?I dunno, but it was still pretty cool. That headband though... I wore it just for the sake of my sister, She though that it looked good on me, she knows that I'm a furry, and like wolves... Dammit.
So enough background, let's move on.
So as you can imagine there was a family already causing trouble, after we got to the hotel room. I was already crashed on the couch from hauling mine and Grandma's luggage up to the room. Grandma is 79, she deserves to have a helping hand whenever I'm around... The family was trying to break into one of the rooms down the hall yelling at the janitor dude who looked like he had foretold this would happen. So he got out a walkie talkie and called the manager and security. They got there and she was already acting like it was a mistake.
"I just read the floor number wrong..." she nervously said. And everyone in the vicinity bought it, not me, I knew better, but decided to let my entitledparents knowledge stay benched for now... It would save my sister's party and get the Entitled Family gone before the cakes came out tomorrow!
So Sis wanted to go and enjoy the water park with Mom, but grandma wasn't up to it.
(Shoot, forgot to mention this, Grandma had just gotten a tumour removed from her and she still didn't feel too good, but she went with us anyways because she cared that much. She's one tough lady I swear!)

So Grandma said that she would go with me to the arcade, because she liked the crane games, I always won something nice for her in those machines. So Mom said that we would meet at about 3 in the afternoon for lunch, so we went off our separate ways.
The arcade was freaking HUGE it had just about 108 games for tickets, about 23 crane games, and 3 of those VR headset stages. This place was SICK!!!
So Grandma, who's still got it, bet me $40 that I couldn't get a better score than her at Skee Ball. That was her favorite, so not wanting to miss the chance to beat the lady who taught me how to play Skee Ball, I said, "Game On!"
She lost by 100 points, and the score when all was said and done was, Me 176,900, Grandma 176,800. She was impressed and gave me $40 dollars just like she said. That $40 was going to help me get something nice for my sister. She saw this cute little wolf cub plushie, and she saw that it was $35.00 and couldn't get it. Don't tell her that I got it for her, she still thinks that the Staff got it for her. I care about my sister, but I still want to maintain that cool brother with an edgy side to him... She calls me an Edgelord because I kept a poker face A LOT during this, but still was a little kid inside.
Where is the entitled family? You the readers are asking? They're bitching about the T-Shirts being$25.99 in the gift shop... So while Grandma and I were trying to get the XBox One S from one of the HUGE prize games, I felt like I was being followed or watched, but Grandma was with me and there was some of the staff patrolling the games, so I just brushed it off.
Patrolling the game? Yes, you'd be surprised how many kids try to climb and rigg the machines because they lost... So when Grandma said that she would go and sit down in the diner area that had a good view of the arcade from. I still helped her over there, and kept semi-close to her. Like I said, just had a tumour removed, and was still woozy... So I stayed at the machines that kept her in my line of sight. Then one of those machines was calling to me... It said; "Cookie, come and play me..." Just imagine it like a fake ghost voice that had the slight stammer in it. So It had a Nintendo Switch with Smash Bros. Ultimate as one of the prizes. This is where ET didn't phone home...
So there was of course a line, and I was 3 people away from the front, and saw how the game worked. It was a memory game where you had to get the score of 100 at least, in 120 seconds to get the Switch, the highest score before I was up there was 12. So ET was behind me, and she was just staring at me and it freaked me out, A LOT! But being next I drowned her out. I got the score of a whopping 109, so I got the Switch and walked away like I was a KING!!! Another gift for my sister. Hey, I won it so technically I 'bought it' with my skills. ET was following me the whole damn time I went around the arcade looking for a small jar of candy to get Grandma, she is still a sucker for anything that was Tootsie Rolls. I turned around after getting it, and there was ET, just staring at me. It was about 30 seconds before she said; "Would you like to go to the pool with me?" I was already seeing where this was going so I politely turned down her offer. She screamed at the top of her lungs; " AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?!? WHAT AM I? TOO FAT, TOO SHORT, TOO BEAUTIFUL FOR YOU?!? She was thinking that I was going to ask her out, and she would pull the classic I'm-out-of-your-league-so-don't-even-try gimmick, I think. Then she said that because I was so rude to her that if I didn't give her the Switch, she would scream rape... The employee that was right behind her looked like he could easily over power the Hulk. He just cleared his throat, and she turned around and saw him and everyone looking at her for trying to threaten me and blackmail me. She just turned white and stormed off. The guy just gave me a smile that said 'If she tries that again, she won't get far' I had a HUGE amount of respect for the guy, but it doubled when he called security and told them that there was this situation that could arise again... I just went back to Grandma and told her what happened. She said the whole hotel could hear her screaming at me. So I showed the fruits of my labor and then the 3pm time had come so Grandma just said to put it in her huge bag, that could hold an entire universe, she'd keep it safe for me.
Lunch was good for about 2 minutes before the ET's little shitheaded siblings came along. It was a disaster to say the least. They had single handedly ruined maybe $5,000 worth of food, dishes, and utensils because they had the V.I.P passes, so they thought that they were untouchable. They claimed that their mom was the hotel manager, so they could do this, and if we stopped them, there would be trouble. So the staff didn't know what to do then COP (Chief of Police) stood up and yelled out; "POLICE!" Everyone saw him and his shiny badge. The whole situation died before it could go farther, but these kids, and parents aren't beaten back this easy, or they would learn...
The two little EK's decided to come over and wreck my sister's dinner by throwing it at her, they hauled ass away and we didn't see them for the rest of the night. But my sister was sad that her pot roast was on her everywhere, but not in her mouth. I took her to the room and stayed until she was good to go back down. The Em was in the hall waiting for us... It was the usual confrontation between the EMs and their victims...
EM - You raped my daughter, you stole her Sega, you then ruined their dinner by threatening them with a fake police officer, and you kidnapped a little girl! I will call the staff and have you arrested!
Sis - I'd like to see you try to arrest my Big Bro!
Me - Sis, not a good time to do that...
Sis has always known me to scare the shit out of anyone who picked on her, but this wasn't the time nor place to be intimidating AF.
EM - You are going to rot in Hell for this!
ET and ED were gone and then we heard the security come around the corner with them in tow. It looked like it was going to get hairy, but before anything happened, I said; "Would it hurt to check the security footage of the CCTV cam right there behind this woman?" The family turned white as sheets, and started running. Of course they wouldn't get too far because they were trapped in a building with a bounty set on them.
Fast forward to the actual BDay for us, which was the next day. The Entitled Family had somehow gotten away from all of the people and were just gone. But it was cake time, so I didn't give two shits about them! The cake was pretty nice, it was covered in white chocolate frosting, and was a solid gooey mess inside. It was delicious, and when the cake was about to be sliced by Grandma, the Entitled Family took that as a way to get to us. The ET pushed Grandma to the floor and kicked her, the EM was sporting a baseball bat (somehow?), and the two brats were grabbing all of the presents. Then COP and about 4 other officers were on the scene with tasers and mace ready. The family then hauled ass with the stolen presents, and then got about 3 feet and were blocked by the Hulk employee. They turned around and saw that they were clearly outnumbered. I just went forth and took back all of the stuff that they took, and ET shouted at me, I punched her in the face, knocked 3 teeth out of her head, and a bloody nose to boot. It was an act of self defense, and I didn't get in trouble.
The family was kicked out and taken away in the cop cars, the staff and the managers were trying to calm everyone down, and the medic on standby was looking at Grandma, who fortunately landed on the bag of clothes for the pool, she just got a bruise from where ET got her, but she was fine. The staff took $400 off of our bill so it costed about $250 to stay, and they threw in an extra night free of charge. Sis got a lot of cool stuff, and it turns out, she had gotten be a cool Night Wolf shirt and a coffee mug that said; "I don't care who dies in the movie, as long as the dog lives!"
The pool was nice though, it was cool how they fit almost 600 feet of indoor slide in there, but we stayed and we enjoyed ourselves. Then the final day came, and SIs wanted to go to the arcade with me Mom and Grandma. We played until the pass ran out and walked away with $300 in prizes, that was fun, but it was kinda thanks to the EM and her fucked up family...
We got to go home the next day and we got to play Smash Ultimate all the way home, it was nice, and Sis wanted to do this again someday. No EM's of course. She had enough of them for one lifetime.
The ending sounds like I made it up, but it was all true, just wanted to make it sound like a better happy ending than it was. In reality, the whole staff was on edge and the buffet room was trashed, so the dining experience was toast, but luckily, they had almost 4 built in restaurants. So in a way, this was an interesting BDay nonetheless.
Hope all of you are staying safe with COVID - 19 on the loose, and keeping in touch with loved ones!
Have a good one!

Edit: Forgot this https://www.reddit.com/entitledparents/comments/gjr458/my_first_encounter_with_entitled_mother_son_and/
The link to the memory starter
Edit 2: I forgot to mention this, but the reason they were still in the hotel, and most of the guests as well, is because there was a massive blizzard the day we got there, it was about 3 feet of snow and slush, even if you had tires that were from a Sci-Fi movie that could resist that, it wouldn't last 2 seconds...
submitted by CookieDog800 to entitledparents [link] [comments]

Besides baseball and hockey, moneylines are used for betting on other sports where a point spread becomes irrelevant, such as auto racing, boxing, soccer, and tennis. While there are margins of victory in some of these, they are so small that it would be impossible to create a point spread for every game. How Baseball Betting Works Published September 12, 2008 baseball betting articles Leave a Comment Tags: baseball abstract betting, baseball betting, betting baseball, how baseball betting workds. Baseball incorporates betting strategies in its own ways. One of the methods to do so is through a Money Line – which is simply a bet – and it has Baseball betting lines are expressed as a dollar with cents and sometimes the decimal will be used. Odds of -1.45 and -145 are the same thing. A favorite that is -145 means that you have to bet 145 to win 100. On the opposite side if one were to bet an underdog at +145 you would only have to bet 100 to win 145. So simply put the favorite is Before we focus on specific MLB betting systems, it’s important to first outline how baseball betting differs from basketball and football. 1. MLB is a moneyline sport. Because baseball is a low scoring game, the majority of money bet on MLB is on the moneyline. With moneylines, bettors are simply wagering on which team will win the game. Sports betting is illegal throughout most of the United States, common throughout much of Europe, and an everyday part of the gambling industry in Nevada. It's difficult to figure out how much money is bet on sports in the United States since the majority of it is done illegally, but experts estimate a "handle" of more than $200 billion

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