The Snowflakes of this so called "Nation" are at it again, and they present their next idea called:
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Please Read this thoroughly to answer any questions you might have about unlocks or help before commenting
New update announced May 13th, 2020!
Egypt and Wonderland even fusion fish have returned! If you missed out on them last year make sure to grab them this time, including the Heart King Kraken! (Max of 2)
Heart King Kraken unlock : Create 20 types of previous event fusion fish.
New Shop Item
IAP: Baby Elephant (Dumbo) $9.99 USD - One time 30% Life Creation Discount - Vitality Boost of 110% - Double current Event currency 🍿 - Can purchase more with Vitality IAP: Special Baby Elephant (Dumbo) $18.99 USD - Bonus 2500 Gems - Bonus 1000 Pearls - Bonus 1200 Seaweed, Clams & Urchins - Double current Event currency 🍿 - Can purchase more with Vitality - Same boost and discount as regular Baby Elephant
New update announced May 5th, 2020!
The 2020 Event is now LIVE!
Please remember that the updates always, always, ALWAYS roll out on a staggered schedule. There is no rhyme or reason to who gets the update first. There is no way to get the update faster. Screaming on here will not help. Everyone should have the update within a week or so. Unfortunately, there is not any way to get the event in advance at this time, as the devs removed the ability to sideload APKs.
A few general event tips:
Go into the palette menu and buy the theme, costume, and dye first before you get any other items. You end up needing them for the hidden fish and the unlock text isn't always true. You will need to buy the coral dye before you can activate your hermit crab.
Don't forget to refer to sirtaptap's Guide for a general overview of the events and how they work.
Note that SOTM no longer works for event currency. Level your crab ASAP for best results. Your crab level also affects how much currency you get per ad, up to 1000 event currency per ad at crab level 10
IAP: Dalmatian Package $9.99 USD - One time 30% Life Creation Discount - Vitality Boost of 110% - Double current Event currency 🍿 - Can purchase more with Vitality IAP: Special Dalmatian Package $18.99 USD - Bonus 2500 Gems - Bonus 1000 Pearls - 50,000 Event Currency - Double current Event currency 🍿 - Can purchase more with Vitality - Same boost and discount as regular Dalmatian
Returning IAP’s
IAP : Corgi Package $9.99 USD - One time 30% Life Creation Discount - Vitality boost of 110% - Can purchase more with Vitality IAP : Fennec Fox Diver Package $9.99 USD - One time 30% Life Creation Discount - Vitality boost of 110% - Can purchase more with Vitality IAP : Norwegian Forest Cat Package $9.99 USD - One time 30% Life Creation Discount - Vitality boost of 110% - Can purchase more with Vitality IAP : Squirrel Package $9.99 USD - One time 30% Life Creation Discount - Vitality boost of 110% - Can purchase more with Vitality IAP : Spring 2020 Package $.99 USD - Gardener Rabbit Costume - Abyss Garden Dye - Fresh Spring Tea Theme ————————————————————————————————
Event Quest
Access this Quest menu by clicking on the "new quest" button in the top left. This quest menu opens on its own each time a quest step is completed. Most of the steps cannot be completed until the quest unlocks, so you need to be a bit careful with your timing on this one. Complete the Main Missions to unlock the Merry-go Round Turtle! Main missions :
Mission
Name
Unlock Condition
1
Delicious Snack
Create 3 Fish-shapes Buns
2
Beauty of Hexagon
Place 1 of each Hexagon Expansion Tile (See below for unlock)
3
Theme Park Staff
Own 5 Staff Seahorse. Own 5 Staff Octopus
4
Moment to Remember
Take 1 photo of Souvenir Booth Expansion (See below for unlock). Own 5 Frog Families
5
Theme Park Star
Own 3 Theme Park Whales
————————————————————————————————
New Fish - None of the New Fish are hidden !
Fish Name
Currency Cost for more
Fish-shaped Bun
200
Popcorn Footballfish
200
Visitor Sea-pig
500
Bumper Car Dumbo Octopus
500
Staff Seahorse
800
Hot Air Balloon Clownfish
800
Staff Octopus
2.000A
Frog Family
5.000A
Mad Tea Cup Jellyfish
5.000A
Pilot Monk Seal
8.000A
Souvenir Dolphin
8.000A
Staff Shark
10.000A
Visitor Crocodile
12.000A
Theme Park Whale
18.000A
Merry-go Round Turtle
100.000A, Complete the main mission
———————————————————————————————
New Expansion Missions
The missions can be accessed by clicking on the ‘Balloon and crate‘ in the bottom left corner. Remember that you cannot do missions ahead of the ‘unlock’ as it will not count it as completed. You must do it in order from 1-8
Expand unlocks
Item
Requirement
Pearl Cost for More
Gray Hexagon Tile
Own 5 Popcorn Football fish
?
Cyan-Blue Hexagon Tile
Wear Event Costume
?
Pale Red Hexagon Tile
Use Delicious Food skill 5 times
?
Ticket Booth
Spend 50 clams
?
Souvenir Booth
Complete 3 Daily Pearl missions
?
Hammer Game Machine
Use 30,000 Popcorn
?
Mad Tea Party
Use Hermit Crab skill 50 times
?
Viking Ship Ride
Own 150 Theme Park event fish
?
Expansion trick
You can buy an expansion item and press the red X to cancel it. It will still count towards your “spend” counter. If you don’t want to wait for the hermit crab to charge down the 5 min, you can save your game to the cloud, load the save and it should fast forward his time. ————————————————————————————————
Hermit Crab
This is attached to the Event dye. When activated, the crab will dance. Charge up your crab by collecting 20 event currency from the event fish. Then click the timer icon above its head, and it will auto-generate currency for 60 sec. You can use the crab infinite times per day for free. It resets once every hour, or can be reset every 5 minutes by watching an ad. Tap on the crab in between dances and he will dig up a treasure for you! Tap on the treasure chest bubble above his head to get your reward. This includes gems, event currency, and pearls! It seems this now only works when the crab is "awake" and waiting to be charged up with currency. If you're waiting for an ad refresh, the crab will not wake up if you tap on him. Your ad reward scales with your hermit crab level; once you are at level 10, you will get 1000 event currency per ad watch!
Hermit crab skill up cost
Level
Hermit Crab Cost
Production
1
Free with purchase of Event Dye
200 per cast
2
500, own 5 event fish
400 per cast
3
900, own 10 event fish
600 per cast
4
1400, own 15 event fish
800 per cast
5
1800, own 20 event fish
1000 per cast
6
2400, own 25 event fish
1200 per cast
7
3600, own 30 event fish
1400 per cast
8
6800, own 35 event fish
1600 per cast
9
9000, own 40 event fish
1800 per cast
10
12,000, own 50 event fish
2000 per cast
Leave your unlocks, tips, hints, and questions below! Happy fishing! ————————————————————————————————
New Event FAQ
Will I be able to carry over event currency to the next event?
Yes, candy will carry over through ‘Saltwater Tank Events only’. Once you have finished this event, keep producing so you can save for the next one!
Does this mean future events will be in the Saltwater tank, or will they keep creating new tanks?
Both, it seems! They seem to be trading off between Saltwater tank events and occasional event tanks. The devs recently released a yearly event schedule, which you can see here.
When does the event end?
We don't know yet. Expect the event to last at least a month.
———————————————————————————————— Special thanks to : u/Bevenw,
Continuing I wrap the six road flares, now spray-painted brick-red and stickered with the appropriate manufacturer's labels, with black electrician’s tape into a hexagonal cross-section, closest-fit bundle. I have a black plastic project box that contains a battery for ‘long-lasting power’ or so the manufacturer claims. An Arduino board that I programmed the other night that runs the wee little speaker and set of blinking LEDs I had mounted on the box. From the box sprout a pair of tightly coiled lengths of demolition wire. Not detonating cord, but just insulated copper wire. These attach to the blasting cap and blasting cap super-booster from which I’ve taken the time to extract all the explosives. I have to admit, it certainly looks authentic; but there’s a small problem. The aesthetics don’t hit me properly. So, I decided to hot glue a cheap-ass Casio digital watch, removed from its band to the large blank spot on the black box. I run a few more coils of tightly wrapped demolition wire, to give it that more earnest and decidedly homebrewed look. Perfect. A faux time bomb that could fool anyone. Smiling, I set it into a drawer of the desk in the portable office. Once all the glue, paint, and mastic dries, I’ll shift it to its permanent home. That done, I wander outside to see how things are progressing. I walk over to the whiteboard to see what sort of ideas they’ve cooked up in my absence. “Hey, Rock”, Yogarasa asks, “What do you think of this?” as he points to the red-lined ship’s schematic. “On, no”, I reply, “I’m JAFO here. Just Another Fucking Observer. Let me know when you guys come to a consensus.” “Right, Rock”, he smiles, “Will do.” I fire up a heater and wander around the job site. I may be in JAFO-mode, but I do make a few comments on personal safety. I note how some jobs they’re attempting could be done with a bit more care, introspection, and attention to Safety, Health, and Environment. “Damn”, I think, “But that’s a big fucking boat.” I’m standing down on the sand, under the prow of the ship. It’s well and truly beached and the farthest point frontwards of the boat, the bow, is easily 50 or 60 feet above my head. “Gonna take come real cunning and cuteness to chop up this little dinghy”, I think to myself. “ROCK!” I hear my name. I’m being paged. I ease over to the whiteboard. They have a list of items necessary for the job they’re proposing. They have a set of procedures as well. Now they have to sell me on the project. “OK, I’m here. What’s the deal?” I ask. Vik takes the initiative and tells me they want to cut the forward 150 feet, or 45 meters, of the ship off in one fell swoop. There are three station keeping bow thrusters in the hull at 50 meters back, so those will not only be safe, but more exposed for reclamation. Lots of copper, zinc, and other saleable metals there. The front 150 feet of the ship, if cut off flush, will relieve everyone of dealing with all those sharp angles commonly found at the pointy end of the front of the boat. It will be easier for both the explosives mavens and the torchbearers to work on a 900 surface, rather than having to futz with all those pointy front end bits. Initially, I agree. I ask for the more detailed set of schematics for the ship. I want to see what needs to be cut through in order to remove the bow of the boat. On the surface, it seems like a good idea. There’s only a helipad on the front deck of the ship, and below it appears to be a large ballroom or something similar. Whatever it is, it isn’t a fuel storage bunker or anything like that. Basically, they want to cut the bow off where the forward sheer meets the forward perpendicular. “OK”, I say, “Sounds like it might work. What next?” “Tour of the craft”, Sanjay says, “We need to get a licensed master blaster on board to take a look at what we’re up to.” “And when will this be transpiring?”, I asked. “As soon as you finish your cigar?” Vik asks. In the forward-most bow of the ship, it is indeed an empty storage area. No telling what was here previously, but whatever it was, it’s gone now. Come to find out, it was crew quarters. They’re modular and were removed before the ship was beached. They are now in service on some other sea-going vessel; second-class. There are several watertight chambers that can, or could have been, electronically and/or pneumatically closed if they ran aground or walloped a whale out on the high seas. I check and see there are no hydraulic lines. Those pose special problems, especially if check valves are over-ridden and lines are not de-energized. I’ve seen what 5,000 psig hydraulic fluid can do coming out of an outlet no bigger than a pencil point. Besides mashing them in the jaws of an oil rig’s power tongs, it’s a good way to lose body parts quickly. Electrical cables jump, spark, and short out. Pneumatic line spit accumulated water and pffft! themselves out fairly quickly. Hydraulics will cut you in half rather than say Good Morning. Of course, all of these will be triply checked, but there’s always one rogue line stuck behind a bulkhead or tucked behind some flashing that you never count on. That’s why you have three different people check three different times. Up on the foredeck, I’m looking at the specs supplied with the schematics. We’re going to be dealing with some 40 mm thick deck plate. That’s treated, hardened, tempered, annealed, and nasty 1.5 inch thick marine-grade high-carbon steel. That shit’s a tough customer. Most carbon steel is not well-suited for marine environments, however, there are several marine-grade carbon steels available. AH36, DH36, and EH36 are all examples of commonly used marine-grade carbon steels approved by the American Bureau of Shipping. These grades will have slightly more alloying elements such as manganese and chromium compared to their ASTM grade counterparts, which helps achieve higher strength and more corrosion resistance. There are also marine grades of alloy steel as well. Grades MD, ME, MF, MG, and others can provide the strength that normal alloy steel is known for, and have also been approved by the American Bureau of Shipping for use in shipbuilding applications. Here. We’ll be dealing with EH36, 40mm thickness, nominal. Also referred to as Mil-S-22698 Gr Dh-36. It contains carbon, manganese, silicon, sulfur, and chromium, for toughness. We’re going to need some test coupons before we tackle this job. A coupon is a small sample of the material under test that has been prepared in such a way that its failure mechanism will be representative of the larger production pieces. Just FYI. “Sanjay,” I ask, “How are you with a K-12 unit?” Since the boat is going to be scrapped anyways, we’re standing next to the keel with a gas-powered 3.5 horsepower unit that drives a carborundum wheel up front at amazingly absurd rotational velocities. Sure, EH-36 marine steel eats carborundum-diamond sintered disks like candy, but the K-12 will allow us to cut some samples of the hull material for blasting tests. This is a job for the younger crowd. Let them experience the pure joy of holding on to a bucking, snorting, spark-flinging hunk of cranky high-velocity machinery. Let them experience the delight of the screaming whine of high-speed carborundum upon high-carbon steel, even while wearing hearing protectors. Let them revel in getting absolutely covered with metal filings and carborundum schmoo from the cutting marine steel and rapidly spinning, eroding, decreasing-diameter saw blades. Fuck it. I’ll be in my office. I need a cold drink as it’s all hot and dusty and real out there. I’ve got my feet up on the desk and actually catching a quick cat nap when I hear “THUNK!” Five of my guys covered head to foot in black cutting residue, toss several 36” x 6” lengths of what was, until recently, the lower hull of a very expensive, indeed, cruise ship on the desk. “THESE DO?” I am asked in a rather pointed manner. I am endeavoring to stymie snickering at the situation. “Told you it wasn’t all skittles and beer, Gents.”, I note. Picking up a coupon, I give it the once over. “They could be a bit wider, but I guess these’ll have to do.” I’m sitting at a desk with a large cold drink and five of my guys are standing in front of me with less-than-amicable looks on their faces, sweating and definitely needing a shower. “Yes?” I ask. “Well?” they reply. “Hmmm?”, I hmmed. “What?” they query. “¿Que?” I query. “WHAT DO WE DO NEXT?” they ask in unison. “Oh, I thought we were having a contest to see how long we could keep conversing in monosyllables,” I replied. “OK”, I smirk, “We need to test these against various explosives and see the results. Which ones do you think would be applicable to the whole job, not just the task at hand?” “What do you mean?” Vik asks. “Well”, I reply, “Seeing what DOUBLEHELIX liquid binary does to these coupons would be a hoot. But since it’s not terribly applicable to the job of cutting the nose off that scow outside…think about it. Liquid binary. Curved ship’s hull. How to affix to the hull? Contain energy how?” “Ah, yes”, They reply, “I see.” “Good”, I say, “So?” “Obviously C-4, that’s a given”, Vik says. “Yes, good”, I note, “And…?” “Primacord?” came one query. “Are you asking me or telling me?” I reply. “Telling?” came the response. “Yes. Primacord. Of course. The heavy stuff.” I add. “What else?” “PETN? RDX? Dynamite? SEMTEX? Sprengkörper DM12?” came some more answers. “Yes to all”, I replied, “But remember the job. Any idea how much it might take of these explosives? You have your Blaster’s Handbooks. You have your measurements. Have you done your calculations?” “Not yet.” They reply. “So, why are you here, stinking up my office?” I growl. They know I’m messing with them. The all vacate. At least I know I’ll have half an hour or so to plug the numbers into my blaster’s computer. But first, a refreshed drink and a new cigar. Priorities, mate. Priorities. OK, it’s time to bone up a bit on shaped cutting charges. Dynamite and other solids would work well, but there’s be all that futzing around with affixing them to the hull. Could use blasting putty, i.e. ‘Elephant Shit’, to affix them to the hull and contain the blasts for a few microseconds, but that would be a real pain in the cojoñes. I want ‘quick and dirty’ here, as I need to haul ass in the next couple of days. So, moldable explosives it is and I do believe a ‘cut along the dotted line’ approach would work a treat here. But first, we have some coupons to play with. Truth be told, I’m interested to see what some of the more exotic formulae explosives will do to 40mm thickness EH36 marine sheet steel. I tell my guys to go get hosed off, pneumatically or hydraulically, and we’ll call it a day. Can’t foul Mr. Maha’s Magic Bus with you guys looking like nasty bag ladies in downtown New Delhi. Besides, I need to write some reports, as does Sanjay. Later, as I finish up an entirely fictional expose on Goodgulf Greyteeth, noting how his team always wears brown shirts and how he’s always going on about his CEO-furnished dictatorial power, forcible suppression of opposition, strong regimentation of society and of the economy. I mention the picture of Mussolini he has on his desk next to the covered up, though not very well, copies of the manifesto and other works of the far-extreme right. I mention the Luger Pistole Modell 1900 he keeps in his middle desk drawer. I fail to mention it’s actually a cigarette lighter. I also write up and time stamp a real report. I’ll need these for later. Sanjay is really getting into the spirit of things, He’s noticing how I absently greet everyone with a “Hello, Comrade” early in the morning. He makes note of my subtle change in demeanor, the more and more I talk about Best Korea and how “they might not be all that bad”. He notes with alarm how I mentioned what I thought the crew would do on the final exam as “from each according to his ability”. Sanjay also notes the current growing obsession I have with referencing my time spent in Russia; even before the wall fell. I caution Sanjay not to lay it on too thickly nor too quickly. I’ve got stories of the Rodina and anecdotes that paint me red as a Peter Pirsch fire engine . The funniest part will be a certain couple of agents going slowly collectively crazy over my supposed behavior because *they *did my background checks all those years ago and professed that I was as All American as Jack Armstrong. Between Gulfy and me, a certain couple of sneaky agents are going to be sweating their collective asses off. Either I’ll call their bluff and spill the beans before I leave, or I might just pull some sort of palace coup and declare Alang a new country. Hell, we’ve got enough soldiers and plenty of armaments. I always wanted to be a sultan… With that done, I’ve reviewed Sanjay’s real report, which I am time-stamping and archiving on my encrypted drive which documents all my duplicity. Hell, I really don’t care at this point; I’m off to Academia and a DSc. They kick me off the proscribed roles and they lose all that wonderful intel. They take as the well-intentioned poke in the snoot and we’ll have a better understanding that you don’t really want to fuck with a future double Doctor of Petroleum Geology and Detonics. Have people surreptitiously reporting on me? Yeah, let’s just see how that’s going to work out for you… After all that, I retire to the drawing-room and partake of an eminently drinkable potato juice and citrus over rice. I have a couple of fresh cigars thanks to Operator 214 and the evening Times. For what more could I possibly ask? “Holy fuck!”, I snort, “UREE is up 3 and 1/3rd!” The next morning after a quick ignoring of phone calls from Virginia “Sorry. The party you wish to contact has gone bush. Please leave your name and number…” and a quick breakfast of Greenland coffee and clotted crumpets, we’re back in the field, gathered right by the soon to be noseless bulk of the Scandinavian cruise ship. “Right gents”, I say, “We have here a selection of steel coupons taken from the ass of the boat behind us. Recall that a coupon is a small sample of the material under test that has been prepared in such a way that its failure mechanism will be representative of the larger production pieces…which means we are assuming that these hunks of steel represent what will happen to the rest of the boat when we upscale.” There are noises of agreement. “In your field notebooks, which I will grade before I leave, “ I note, “I want some ideas why this is and is not a good idea. Always list what you think are good reasons for a course of action. Also, perhaps, more importantly, list reasons why it might not be such a good idea. The scientific method, gentlemen. Multiple working hypotheses. Like I ‘ve always said: “Don’t believe everything that you read and don’t’ read everything you believe”. Make space there for your Doubting Thomas to bloom.” Further noises of agreement. “OK, scribble your notes and let’s get after its wild ass.”, I say, “First will be 60% Extra Fast dynamite. Make notes, make predictions. Who do you think it’ll do to this heavy, marine steel?” I set a coupon on the sand and place a single stick of 60% on top of the coupon. There are immediate objections. “You’ve not contained the blast in any way!” Vik objects, “It’ll just blow and do nothing more than push the coupon into the sand and scorch it a bit. 90% of the energy will be lost.” “Quite right!”, I say, “Well noted. So what do we do about this lamentable situation?” “Elephant shit!” was the universal cry. “OK”, I reply, “Make it so.” They do and hand me the trailing leads. “OK, Safety Dance”, I say. “Really, Rock?” I hear the objections. “There’s no one here but us.” “That we know of”, I reply, “Look at it this way. We do it and it costs us nothing more than a couple of minutes. We don’t and suddenly the coupon goes ballistic and tears a hole through someone’s head that we didn’t know was taking a leak behind that dune over yonder…” “NORTH CLEAR?” “That’s better”, I smile. Fire in the hole cited thrice, and we’re set to go. I’ll handle Captain America here, this is for learning, not just fucking around. “KA-BOOM!”. Lots of noise and smoke. And a flat steel coupon turned into a hotdog bun. “Look at that. Plastic or ductile failure mode.’ I note, “Is this what we’re looking for?” “No, we need brittle fracture”, one of my acolytes remarks. “Exactly.” I reply, “So. Now what?” “Double the amount of explosive?” was one suggestion. “That’s a lot of Elephant Shit.”, I remark, “Or we could see if other sorts of explosives give us different results.” “Or we could see if other sorts of explosives give us different results.” Another wag answers. I want to save the C-4 for a bit later. We try PETN, RDX, SEMTEX, and Sprengkörper DM12. PETN has an in-built high brisance; that is, it tends to shatter objects. It reduced the coupon to shards, many of which were projectilized. Not a good choice for mass employment on something like this ship. RDX has a lower degree of brisance than PETN, but failed to shatter the coupon, nor did it initiate any fractures. It warped the shit out of the coupon, twisting it into an Escheresque shape, like a Klein Bottle. SEMTEX resulted in very similar outcomes, as it is a combination of PETN and RDX. Sprengkörper DM12 had some promising results, as it did initiate cracks in the coupons we were testing. It also had a bit of high brisance, and the edges of the coupon spalled off into nasty little high-velocity projectiles. Which left us my favorite, C-4. We had several coupons left, so I sent one of my crew over to the torch patrol which had shown up right after we began, and had then torch a series of holes, channels, and rifts into a couple of different test pieces. We tried a blop of C-4 just mooshed down onto a coupon. It resulted in a very nice floral pattern. A hole in the center and the edges curled up skyward. Then we tried rolling some C-4 ‘snakes’ and laid them in a cross-work pattern. That worked well, loads of fractures in the coupon. We had some obvious reinforcement of the detonic pattern as noted in the interference patterns on the scorched steel. We were getting closer, but I wanted to take them step by step. Now we took the coupon with a hole brazed through it. I made a dumbbell of C-4, split it along the long axis, so it had C-4 on both sides. It split that coupon like no one’s business. Then we tried a coupon with a channel cut into it. The same sort of idea, C-4 on either side, set, charged and primed to detonate simultaneously. Worked a treat. Split that coupon like a prize Blue Point oyster. We were getting close. We tried several other C-4 configurations until we ran out of test coupons. I laid them all out on the sand and asked my guys which one that we should use. C-4 was the obvious choice. There was some discussion where we could just burn some holes in the hull, wire them up and shoot it off that way, or would channels be more efficient? After some little lecturing on failure modes and fracture propagation in marine high-carbon steel, it was decided that a series of 3 foot-long channels would be torched or cut into the hull of the boat and puttied both sides with shaped-charges of C-4. I agreed. “Now”, I asked, “How much will we need for the job?” Grumbles and groans. I left them to their mathematical devices as I caught a personnel basket and went up to the foredeck. There was a wooden floor covering marine steel. This would complicate matters a bit until remembered we had a concrete saw. This would make mincemeat out of any flooring; tile, marble, wood, or linoleum. Problem solved. Now we just needed to get the thing up there. Well, wouldn’t you know it? It just fits into a personnel basket. It looks like I have my afternoon spoken for. I receive a call on my cell-phone telephone. I shut down the concrete saw, turned off the water, and got away from the miasma of shredded hardwood, zipping xylem and phlowing phloem to see it’s the personal secretary of Goodgulf Grayteeth, one Achilles Starace. “Yes”, I ask, shaking the cellulosic cuff off my hardhat, gloves, and boots, “I may help you how?” “Um, yes, Doctor. We have a package here from Sinter’s Printers. It is addressed to you, but no one was available at Outbuilding #2 to sign for the delivery.” “Outstanding”, I remark, “Hold it. I will have a duly-authorized deputy of mine come over to relieve you of the package. He will invariably be wearing a pair of orange coveralls, and well, overall, an offhand orange motif. You may feel comfortable releasing the package to his custody. “ “Yes, Doctor.”, he replies and rings off. I walk over to the side of the ship and see a bunch of orange-clad ants scurrying around. I key the mic on my radio and call down to them. “Hey you! You! Yes, you! There behind the outdoor heads. Stand still, Laddie!” I say. “Whaddya want, Rock?”, comes the reply. “Who wants to earn a break by running an errand for me?” I ask. Somewhat stilted silence. “Cigars or booze?” came one answer. “Nice. C’mon. I’ll pay you.” I replied. Nothing. “You can take my bike,” I add. Instant radio chaos. “OK, Vis.”, I reply, “Keys are under the seat on the bike. Go to Goodgulf Greyteeth’s office, and see his secretary, one Mr. Starace. Take the package from him and put it on my desk in the Barn. Take a cigar out of petty cash. Then return. Got it?” I could barely hear him over the roaring putt-putt-putt of the Enfield’s motor. “Well”, I muse, “There’s another issue handled.” I return to sawing apart the monstrously expensive, now kindling, hardwood floor. Not much call to reclaim it. It’s all salt-water eaten and nasty. Too bad, nice patterns. On one side of the boat, I’ve got the torch patrol in the personnel baskets. Sparks flying everywhere. On the other side, I’ve got the K-12 crowd, sawing away with sparks flying everywhere. Good thing I told them to start at the bottom and work their way up. Be a bad thing if we weakened the superstructure too much and the whole bow came crashing down on someone’s head. I decided to just cut a square hole in the foredeck, one large enough to admit a scissor-jack. If we’re going to putty both sides of the bow with C-4, personnel baskets will work a treat on the exterior. Interior? Hell, we’re not Spiderman. Scissor-jack delivered via crane. Well, there’s the whistle. It’s 1700 and I need to drop by the armory for a few bits and pieces before dinner. I get the crane operator to hoist me out of the hold and back down to terra firma. My bike is right where I left it, although the gas tank is suspiciously lower than it was when I parked it. No matter. Gas is really cheap when you’re not the one paying for it. Much like most everything else here in-country for my stay. I go to the bunker and do the required access dance to obtain entry. I fill my backpack with several dozen brick-red road flares, demolition wire, the copper variety, and the packing box from a case of Du Pont 60% Extra Fast Dynamite, broken down along the dovetailed connectors that make the crate. They also go into my backpack. I spy several half-full boxes of blasting caps and boosters, so I consolidate them into a couple of full boxes and the empties go into my backpack as well. Nice little wooden boxes, finely crafted. They will make someone a most excellent gift. I take my time locking up and fill out the inventory. I make notes for the warehouse foreman to order an excessive number of cases of C-4, spool after spool of Primacord, some more det cord, demo wire, and initiators. This cruise ship will be a huge job, may as well lay in a healthy supply of stock. Besides, I have an inkling that someone besides the warehouse foreman is taking notice of my ordering and usage activities. I fully intend on giving them something to read and worry about. Yes, I sprinkled a little radioactive tracer, metaphorically speaking, around the job and home site. I have been watching the old scintillation counter, again, I speak allegorically, closely. Looks like I’ve found a sheep in the meadow, a cow in the corn, a dog in the manger a Balrog in the woodpile. Yeah, things here are all not as they first appear. So it would be remiss of me not to give them all something to talk about. I take my time locking up and leave a voice-note for the warehouse manager to create the order and send it out posthaste. We’ll use much of the C-4, and other ancillary equipment, stock on the bow shot. Once I leave, it’ll be up to my crew to take over-ordering and keep stocks up to snuff. Besides, there are one or two items I’d hoped can be delivered before I depart in a couple-three days’ time. I motor back to the Raj, taking the scenic route if that’s the term for any vista along this grubby stretch of beach. I am relieved of my motorcycle at the garage entrance, and I shoo the porter away as I am fully capable of carrying my backpack to my room. In my room, I stash my backpack and notice that my mini-bar needs replenishment. I take all the unusual bit and bobs out of my backpack and store them in one of my empty, and lockable, aluminum luggage cases. I close my backpack and stick a post-it™ note, scribbled with an arcane language I just made up, on the dusty canvas. It’ll stick if undisturbed if you follow my meaning. I call the Majordomo and explain my angst. “My mini-bar is almost empty and I have much work this evening…” He immediately apologizes and says he’ll take care of the matter personally. I figured he would. I explain that I’ll be in the library or bar while he rectifies this most egregious situation. I set up a few more field craft booby traps and lock the door behind me. Sanjay saunters in with the package from the printers. He was changing in the Barn and saw the package on my chair. He thought it’d be best for me to hang onto the tonight rather than to tempt fate. I thank him for his forethought and think “Tempt fate? Whatever do you mean?” I have another couple-five post-work cocktails and figure that I’ve given the Major enough time to take care of my mini-bar situation. I say “Spokoynoy nochi” to Sanjay and head back to my room. Well, the good news is that my mini-bar is stocked to the gills. The not so good news is that someone here has a very bad and sloppy case of nose poker-inner-itis. Every one of my little traps had been sprung., and it’s not that just casual wandering around this room or even cleaning and stocking a mini-bar would have set these off. Someone was deliberately looking for something. Evidently it wasn’t my print of Das Kapital or my ‘autographed’ copy of Quotations from Chairman Mao that I leave on my desk, taking care to change the pages daily. Nor was it my field notebooks from Best Korea which are written in a very arcane and indecipherable code known only to me. But I do know I never ‘break the backs’ of my notebooks. Pages tend to work their way free over time if one does that. I am scrupulously careful with my notebooks. But wouldn’t you know it, several have their spines broken, just like what would happen if someone was trying to photocopy 2 pages at a time, quickly, surreptitiously, clandestinely, on a slow xerocopy machine. “Good luck with that”, is all I can think. Then, a bit of deviltry pops into being. I smile, pull out a new field book, use an old, old, old, and simple encryption code; one so easily broken that it can hardly be considered a code. I spent many hours in the Jacuzzi creating a work of incredible Red fiction, making certain to spill a little of my drink, drop in a cigar ash or two, and get it splashingly wet in places to simulate the appearance of age. Oh, someone’s going to have the finding of a lifetime tomorrow as I conveniently forget to lock the center drawer of my desk… Before retiring, I call Es and make the near-fatal mistake of asking what she and her mother bought that day shopping. 45 minutes later, I am able to shoehorn in a word edgewise and tell Es that if Rack or Ruin or both call to chat about me, she’s to let on to nothing. Well, nothing more than the well-coached program I tell her about called “DM Part 1”. It’s just a little chain yankage via an injection of deliberate misinformation to a couple of agents who should have gotten this out of their systems long ago. They should really know better than to try and sandbag a Doctor of Geology and his wife; especially when the wife’s mother was a resident of Berlin back in the 1940s. Yes, she’s in on the ruse as well. The next morning at breakfast, I’m handed several notes that I have some missed phone calls. Not surprising, I was either on the phone, in the Jacuzzi, or had disconnected the phone, and turned off my satellite and GSM cell-phone telephones. As expected, Rack and Ruin are clamoring to talk with me. Unfortunate that I’m so busy these days. I’ll get around to calling them in a couple of days or so. Sanjay arrives and as were chatting about today’s bill of fare, blasting-wise, Mr. Kanada our redoubtable Majordomo, drops by. We say a casual hello, and I return to my conversation with Sanjay about the merits of Kim Jong-Il and how nice I found Best Korea. I also mentioned that Soviet Russia really go a bad rap in the press. It wasn’t all that bad… Once Mr. Kanada was out of earshot, I let Sanjay in on the jape. He knows I’ve burned him enough to have him classified as ‘well done’. He is now a trusted auxiliary in this program of considered propaganda. He finds it now, that we’ve stripped away all façade of reality from it, hilarious. I mention that I’ve been poking the snoots at the agency this way for decades. He’s surprised that they haven’t responded with massive retaliation. I explain that I know where a lot of bodies are buried and how many closets have skeletons. Metaphorically, of course. Anyways, it’s going to be a busy day. Lots of priming, setting, and charging of a couple of tons of high explosives. No, we don’t sensu stricto need all that firepowerful pyrotechnics, but since it will be my last blast before I depart, I am planning something of a show. We are rumored to have some company and national dignitaries in attendance tomorrow for the inaugural of the new blasting class, so I want to make this a show to remember. At the barn, all my guys are dressed in their PPEs. I take this time to dispense the Certifications of Completion of my ISEE-sanctioned and accredited course and practical exams. These are the golden ticket for this batch of two dozen out of the much and mire of the legions of torchbearers. They are now certified to handle explosives, well, most of them are, and all will be after a bit more tutelage and will use that knowledge and experience to make much shorter work of the hulk of various watercraft that wash up along these shores. 25 certificates later, I had planned a blast of a party, but instead, we’re in Mr. Maha’s Magic Bus headed to the beach. We’re preparing for a different type of blast, and the party will follow immediately after. I have Sanjay take 18 of the guys and split them into two teams, an outside and an inside team, who will load and prepare the channels which we’ve cut into the hull of this old boat. Sure, we needed some torch and saw work, but only a slight proportion of what would be needed if one were to just make these cuts with a torch crew. The outside and inside guys will collaborate in placing the C-4 in the channels and holes we’re prepared. Between channels, we’ll alternate with a row of C-4 on the outside, a filled channel from both sides, and a row on the inside, down and around the entire prow of the boat, alternating as we go. That way, we’ll maximize the amount of bang we’ll receive per unit volume of pyrotechnic employed. That will keep Sanjay hopping for a good portion of the day. I have my six guys come over to the whiteboard whilst I have an early morning smoke and explain what we’ll be up to this fine, humid morning. I have a list of items that I need from the armory. I scrounge a one-ton pickup truck and tell Luke to take the one-ton and ride to the dispensary system and obtain the items on the list. I tell them that they are on point to both open, extract the necessary items, record, and close the armory as per procedures. I won’t be here forever, so I have to trust them to do as I had taught. I have the other four commanded a crane and personnel basket along with an oxy-acetylene welding set. It seems most of these guys can handle welding as well as cutting with torches, so I instruct them to weld four 2’ long pieces of ¾” rebar to the outside of the ship. I want a rectangle 5 meters high by 3 meters in width. I let them figure out there where and how I’ve got to get inside as there’s a shit-ton of wiring and circuits that have to be created and galved. The day progressed more or less as planned. The hull, where perforated, was C-4’ed inside and out. A quick inspection via the scissor lift on the ship’s interior provided a very nicely done job. I had Sanjay take a couple of guys and do the same due diligence on the C-4 outside the hull. I began wiring in the appropriate scrub-circuits. These are basically the gross outlines of the circuits you’ll use to fire the pyros. I ran a huge loop of det cord around the inside of the ship’s bow, as I wanted it protected from the humid salt air overnight. I had Sanjay spray the exposed C-4 outside the bow of the ship with a special black tar-based preservative as he and his crew inspected the placement of the stuff. I had a sheet of marine plywood scrounged and set up as a whiteboard in the dark belly of that boat. I drew my schematic wiring diagrams and after a while, I even ran out of different colors of pens to demote different sub-circuits of the plan. For insurance and back up purposes, I had my team go along and weld 4” diameter pipe footings in strategic places. These were normally used to build shades or awnings by bolting the pipe footings to thick wooden planks on the boat and using simple cold-rolled low carbon steel pipe as mainstays and uprights. I also had my guys whip up a load, that is, as many as they could before the end of the day, lengths of threaded 4” pipe. Normally called ‘nipples’, these were 2-3 foot length of pipe, as noted, threaded at both ends. On end screwed into the pipe footings I had welding in strategic places and the other end accepted a 4” pipe cap. These might sound like pipe bombs in the making since I plan to fill them with various potions of my own creation, but they are more like downward-firing pipe cannons. The caps have much more mechanical strength and bearing capacity than the 3.5” hole of the pipe footing. When fired, the caps would remain intact and direct the rapidly detonating or deflagrating pyrotechnic downwards. Sort of a vertical shaped charge. These would come into play later on in the show. We set, primed, charges, and wired all day. Finally 1700 hours rolled around and I told everyone that I had a few bits and pieces left to do and that I could handle it alone. True, I could have used some extra hands, but the time I’d waste explaining what I was doing would consume any time saved by their help. I did bribe a crane operator to hang around and drive the personnel basket as I’d be the one inside it giving him the signs of which directions I needed to go. We had a couple of hours before dark and that’s when I’d have to quit. So as soon as everyone departed to the barn, I was in the basket and on the radio. I had 7 spools of det cord and a big job in front of me. That the crane operator was well paid and paid good attention to my directions meant we finished well before darkness fell. To Be Continued…
[FT] Clearing out my Storage! TONS of Fossils, Rare Clothing, Furniture, DIYs, and more for sale! [LF] Specific furniture, Bells, Extra DIYs
Edit: Got a ton of replies, will be sticking to processing comments I've gotten already! I will post a new thread when I'm ready to trade again. Looking to clear out my storage! I've got a wide variety of things to offer. If any of the listed items below have a variant and I didn't list it, please point it out and I'll let you know. I did the best I could just by looking at them. In return for my items I'm looking for fair offers from amongst the following. I know some of these items are rarer and others, and in turn I know I have some rarer items amongst my own:
Bells (no NMTs)
Spare DIY Recipes
Hybrid Flowers
Arcade Seat (Grey)
Arcade Seat (Red)
Cyprus Plant (White)
Electric Bass (Orange(?))
Fire Pit
Ivory Simple Bath Mat
Macrame Tapestry (Green)
Pinball Machine (Brown)
Pinball Machine (Purple)
Rocket Lamp (Pink)
Yucca
What I have available will be a long list but I will break it down by the following categories, so use Ctrl+F to find the category (or item!) you're looking for. All items are first-come, first-serve!
Housewares
Miscellaneous
Wall-mounted
Wallpaper
Floors
Rugs
Fashion Items
Fossils
DIYs
I will ignore and block PMs or direct chats coming from anyone who doesn't comment on this thread.
Housewares
Anatomical Model
Anchor Statue (Blue) x4
Antique Chair (Black)
Antique Console Table (Brown)
Antique Mini Table (Brown) x4
Automatic Washer (white)
Bamboo Doll
Bamboo Partition
Bamboo Stopblock
Beach Towel
Beehive
Bidet
Birdbath
Box Corner Sofa (Orange
Bunk Bed
Camping Cot
Changing Room (Brown)
Clay Furnace
Cyprus Plant (Blue) x2
Cyprus Plant (Brown) x3
DIYs
Destinations Signpost
Director's Chair
Director's Chair (Black)
Double Sofa (Green)
Effects Rack (Black)
Electric Guitar (Light blue)
Exercise Bike
Fan (White)
Fashion Items
Fish-Drying Rack
Fishing-rod stand (White) x6
Floors
Fossils
Freezer (White)
Fresh Cooler x2
Garden Lantern (Black) x2
Go Board
Housewares
Imperial Bed (Red)
Ironing Board
Ironwood Chair
Ironwood Dresser
Kitchen Island (Silver)
Mama Panda
Marimba
Miscellaneous
Monstera
Mountain Bike (Green)
Natural Square Table
Neon Diner Sign (Red, Yellow letters)
Oil Barrel (Damaged)
Outdoor Generator
Pile of Leaves (Green)
Plastic Pool (Blue)
Plastic Pool (Green)
Pull-up Bar Stand (Red)
Rattan End Table (Black)
Rattan End Table (Light Brown)
Rattan Waste-Bin (Brown)
Rugs
Sauna Heater
Server
Shaded Floor Lamp (red)
Signpost
Simple Panel (white)
Skeleton
Sleeping Bag x2
Soccer Goal x2
Solar Panel (Black)
Stone Stool
Stone Table
Streetlamp (Green
Studio Spotlight
Table with Cloth
Teacher's Desk (Black and White)
Tennis Table
Toilet-Cleaning Set x2
Tool Shelf (Silver)
Upright Vacuum
Utility Sink
Vacuum Cleaner x2
Velvet Stool x2
Wall-mounted
Wallpaper
Wheelchair
Wood-burning Stove
Wooden Mini Table x2
Wooden Wardrobe
Writing Chair
Writing Desk
Miscellaneous
Aluminum Briefcase (Gold Bars)
Aroma Pot
Baby Bear (Floral)
Board Game x2
Bottled Ship (Green)
Cardboard Box x8
Cartoonist's Set
Cassette Player (Yellow)
Cat Grass
Coffee Cup (Yellow)
Coffee Cup (Fancy) x2
Cream and Sugar
Cushion
Desk Mirror (White)
Dinnerware
Dolly (Red)
Electronics Kit
Essay Set x2
Floor Sign x2
Football x2
Fortune-Telling Set
Fragrance Diffuser (white)
Garden Gnome x2
Glass Holder with Candle (purple)
Globe
Hourglass x3
Incense Burner x2
Kettle
Knifeblock
Lantern
LCD TV 50 in. (Blue)
Magic Kit
Metronome x2
Microscope
Microwave (Light Blue)
Mixer
Moss Ball
Mug
Nail-art Set
Newton's Cradle
Nintendo Switch
Oil Lamp
Paper Tiger
Pedal Board
Portable Radio
Portable Record Player (Blue)
Pro Tape Recorder (Blue)
Protein Shaker Bottle (Chocolate)
Recycled-can thumb piano
Sewing Machine
Shell Speaker
Simple Kettle
Soup Kettle
Stand Mixer (Red)
Stovetop Espresso Maker
Sturdy Sewing Box
Throwback Skull Radio (Red)
Tissue Box
Tool Box
Typewriter (Blue)
Unfinished Puzzle (pink)
Wall-mounted
Bathroom Towel Rack
Fish Doorplate (Blue)
Fish Doorplate (Green) x2
Fish Print (x2)
Fishing-boat flag
Floral Swag x2
Hanging Scroll (Purple)
Heart Doorplate (Yellow)
Imperial Hanging Shelves (Red)
Iron Doorplate
Mobile (Sea Creatures)
Party Garland (Black and Gold)
Pot Rack (Yellow)
Potted Ivy
Retro Radiator
Tapestry (Rooster)
Wall-mounted Candle
Wall-mounted tool board
Wallpaper
Aqua Tile Wall
Arched-window Wall
Bamboo-screen Wall
Bank-vault Wall
Beaded-curtain wall
Beige art-deco wall
Black Botanical-tile wall
Black-crown wall
Black hallway wall
Blue Blossoming Wall
Blue delicate-blooms wall
Blue honeycomb-tile wall
Blue molded-panel wall
blue painted-wood wall
Blue Subway-tile Wall
Botanical-tile wall
Brown-Brick Wall
Cafe-curtain Wall
Chocolate Hallway Wall
Common Wall
Crepe Design Wall
Cute White Wall
Desert Vista
Gray Diner Wall
Gray Molded-panel wall
Green Blossoming Wall
Green Delicate-blooms wall
Green Honeycomb-tile wall
Green Intricate Wall
Green-paint wall
Green painted-wood wall
Lattice Wall
Marine Pop Wall
Modern Tearoom Wall
Orange Molded-panel wall
Orange-paint wall
Perforated Board Wall
Pink-crown wall
Pink-playroom wall
Purple Desert-Tile Wall
Rammed-Earth Wall
Red Art-Deco Wall
Red heart-pattern wall
Red Intricate Wall
Red Perforated-board wall
Retro Flower-Print Wall
Rice-Paddy Wall
Server-Room Wall
Skull Wall
Soothing Tearoom Wall
Stately Wall
Strawberry-Chocolate Wall
White Botanical-tile Wall x2
White-brick wall
White hallway wall
White Painted-wood wall
White simple-cloth wall
Yellow heart-pattern wall
Yellow intricate wall
Yellow playroom wall
Yellow simple-cloth wall
Yellow-striped wall
Floors
Arabesque Flooring
Arched-Brick Flooring
Argyle Tile Flooring
Artsy Parquet Flooring
Black-brick Flooring
Blue Desert-Tile Flooring
Blue Dot Flooring
Blue Mosaic-Tile Flooring
Blue paint flooring
Blue Rubber Flooring
Brown Brick flooring
Brown Iron Parquet Flooring
Camo Flooring
Cool-paint flooring
Cork Flooring
Cute-Paint Flooring
Dark Block Flooring
Dark Herringbone Flooring
Dark Wood Pattern Flooring
Flagstone Flooring
Gold Iron Parquet Flooring
Gray Vinyl Flooring
Green Vinyl Flooring
Hexagonal Floral Flooring
Imperial Tile
Kitschy Tile
Light Parquet Flooring
Modern Wood Flooring
Monochromatic Tile Flooring
Parking Flooring
Pine-Board Flooring
Rattan Flooring
Red-Brick Flooring
Rose Flooring
Rush Tatami
Rush Tatami Flooring
Sandy-Beach Flooring
Simple Purple Flooring
Simple white Flooring
Skull-print Flooring
Stone Tile
Sumo Ring
White-brick Flooring
White Honeycomb Tile
White Iron-parquet Flooriung
White Mosaic-Tile Flooring
White-paint Flooring
Yellow Floral Flooring
Rugs
Blue Argyle Rug
Blue Kitchen Mat
Blue Medium Round Mat
Blue Persian Rug
Brown Argyle Mat
Colorfuyl Vinyl Sheet
Fish Rug x3
Green kilim style carpet
Green Kitchen Mat
Peach Checked Rug x2
Purple Heart Rug x2
Red-design Kitchen Mat
Shanty Mat
Simple Medium Brown Mat
Simple Pink Bath Mat
Simple Small Brown Mat x2
Simple Small Purple Mat
Snowflake Rug
White Wooden-Deck Rug
Yellow-design Kitchen Mat
Yellow kilim-style Carpet x2
Yellow Kitchen Mat
Yellow Small Round Mat
Yellow Stripes Rug
Fashion Items
Shirts
After-school jacket
Apron
Argyle Vest
Athletic Jacket (Blue)
Baggy Shirt (Grey)
Basketball Tank (Green(
Caridgan-shirt Combo (pink)
College Cardigan (Red)
Comedian's Outfit Blue)
Comedian's Outfit (Yellow)
Cowboy Shirt (Blue)
Cycling Shirt (Pink, Green, and Blue)
Denim Jacket (blue)
Dotted Raincoat (Gray, Blue)
Dress Shirt (Pink)
Fish-Print Tee x3
Front-Tie Button-down shirt (Blue)
Fuzzy Vest (Blue)
Gingham Picnic shirt
Graduation Gown (Green)
Hand-knight Tank (Blue)
Kids' smock (Red, Yellow, Green)
Labelle Coat (Blue)
Labelle Knit Shirt (Blue)
Layered Shirt (Orange)
Parka Undercoat (Green)
Pom-Pom Sweater
Relay Tank (Yellow)
Rubber Apron
Sailor-Style Shirt (White)
Simple Parka (Yellow, Blue)
Sleeveless Tunic (Purple, Orange(?))
Space Parka (Purple, Pink)
Tailored Jacket (Green)
Thick-stripes shirt (Red/Black)
Top Coat (Blue)
Bottoms
Boa Shorts (Green)
Bomber-Style Skirt (Black)
Cargo Shorts (Green)
Casual Pants (Black)
Elephant Print Pants
Flare Skirt (Black, Red, Pink, Light Blue)
Formal Shorts (purple)
Labelle Shorts (Blue
Outdoor Shorts (Yellow)
Tiered Skirt (Green)
Workout pants (Green)
Dresses
Butterfly Visiting Kimono (Blue)
Checkered Jumper Dress (Brown)
Dragon Suit
Dreamy Dress (Pink)
Full-body tights (red)
Hot Dog suit
Instant-Muscles Suit (Blue)
Jester Costume (red/green)
Jumper Worksuit (Green)
Labelle Dress (Blue)
Mariachi Clothing (Green)
Parka Dress (Blue)
Rugby Uniform (Blue)
Space Suit
Steampunk Costume (Red)
Toga (Red, Purple)
Baseball Cap (Black/yellow)
Cavalier Hat
Cycling Cap (Red, Purple)
Eggshell
Jockey's Helmet (Blue)
Knit Hat (Every color)
Mesh Cap (Purple)
Paperboy Cap (Red)
Small Silk Hat (Red)
Soft-Serve Hat (Gray/Sesame(?)
Wizard's Cap (Blue, Purple)
Bun Wig (Pink)
Fairy-Tale Hood (Pink)
Mohawk Wig
Glasses/Face
Dog Nose (White
Drinking-straw Glasses (Green)
Ladder Shades (Yellow)
Rhinestone Shades (Purple)
Round Shades (Purple)
Star Shades (Blue)
Feet
Flowery-dot tights (Pink, blue)
Labelle tights (Blue)
Neon tights (pink, purple)
Patterned Stockings (White, Black)
Striped Socks (Black/white)
Embroidered Shoes (White)
Paw Slippers (Brown)
Walking Shoes (Pink)
Handheld + Bags
Fish Pochette x3
Tackle Bag
Bear Umbrella
Blue Dot Parasol
Fish Umbrella x4
Lacy Parasol
Purple Shiny-Bows Parasol
Fossils:
Acanthostega
Amber
Ammonite
Ankylo Skull
Ankylo Tail
Archaeopteryx
Archelon Tail
Australopith
Brachio Pelvis
Brachio Skull
Brachio Tail
Coprolite
Deinony Tail
Deinony Torso
Dimetrodon Skull
Dimetrodon Torso
Diplo Neck
Diplo Skull
Diplo Tail
Diplo Tail Tip
Dunkleosteus
Eusthenopteron
Iguanodon Skull
Iguanodon Torso
Juramaia
Left Megalo Side
Left Ptera Wing
Left Quetzal Wing
Mammoth Torso
Megacero Skull
Megacero Tail
Megacero Torso
Ophthalmo Skull
Ophthalmo Torso
Pachy Skull
Pachy Tail
Parasaur Skull
Parasaur Tail
Parasaur Torso
Plesio Body
Plesio Skull
Plesio Tail
Ptera Body
Right Megalo Side
Right Ptera Wing
Right Quetzal Wing
Sabertooth Skull
Sabertooth Tail
Spino Tail
Spino Torso
Stego Skull
Stego Torso
Trilobite
DIYs
Bamboo Bench Sold!
Bamboo Candleholder
Bamboo Speaker
Bamboo Stool Sold!
Bamboo Wand
Bunny Day Arch
Bunny Day Bag
Bunny Day Crown
Bunny Day Lamp
Bunny Day Stool
Bunny Day Table
Bunny Day Vanity
Bunny Day Wand
Cardboard Table
Cherry Wall
Garden Wagon
Golden Seat
Iron Garden Bench
Iron Garden Bench
Ironwood Chair
Knitted-Grass Backpack
Leaf
Log Round Table
Magazine Rack
Mum Cushion
Natural Garden Chair
Natural Square Table
Peach Dress
Pear Bed
Pot
Sandy-Beach Flooring
Sandy-Beach Flooring
Shell Bed
Shell Speaker
Shell Table
Small Cardboard Boxes
Tall Garden Rock
Trophy Case
Tulip Surprise Box
Wobbling Zipper Toy
Wooden Toolbox
I will be monitoring this thread on and off, so please comment below if you are interested in anything!
Cleaning House! Lots of items below. Comment with offers.
I'll be selling this stuff pretty much all day. Then it'll be sold to Nooks. I'm looking for a wooden shop sign diy if anybody has an extra recipe!!! Recipes:
Looking for critique, and any advice to make this r/nosleep-worthy!
I intend this story to be a series, but I really want to post this here and try to get some advice on how I could make it any better. All advice is welcome! Title: I Work as an Intern for the Company that Kidnapped My Parents. Or at least, that's what I believe happened, anyway. My parents are Joseph and Maria Thompson, and they have been missing for 9 months. They were both scientists, graduated top of their class together, and have been making discoveries together ever since. Amid a breakthrough involving a new type of MRI technology my mother gave birth to me. She wrote her thesis in maternity clothes, that's the reason why my dad married her. Never let anything stop her from doing what she set her mind to. I am.... not quite the prodigy that my parents were. By the age of 18 my father had a bachelor's degree. I was still in high school. Funny how that works out. Of course, they never saw anything wrong with that, but I digress. Two years ago, my parents started working for CycloneTech Innovative Industries. CycloneTech was supposedly some center for the improvement of human lives and the innovation of science or some crap, but I didn't pay too much attention. After 2 Nobel Peace Prizes, you kinda just let their overwhelming success go over your head. They got the job from some guy at one of their "great unveilings" who talked about all the great opportunities that they would have working for their company. With a huge company backing them, they were set. So was I. And so, when they didn't come home, nor answer their phones for 3 days I started to be concerned. I had known a guy in the reception area, Dave, and so the first thing I did was call CycloneTech to ask questions. "We are sorry, there's no one working here under that name." I heard that excuse so many times I was saying it under my breath. No one working there by that name. I contacted the police, their trail stopped dead after receiving the same bull crap I got. A detective was working with me for a while, but eventually I told him to just give up. I know who has them. And so, I sent a job application. On the day of my orientation, I was of course as suspicious as you would expect. I carefully checked everything in the waiting room that I had been sat in, along with the other 2 interns they had just hired. The room was like a hospital waiting room. The colors were bland, eggshell white walls, gray chairs with cushions that were made from that fabric that isn't too unlike carpet. The only real splash of color that the room had was the company's logo spread out along the floor, a large gray "C" formed by the edges of a hexagon, against a painfully yellow background. There was a window on the opposite wall from me that separated the receptionist's desk from the rest of the room, where I could see a woman in her 40's chewing gum. Her blonde hair was done up into a bun, and she twiddled a pen between her fingers. She had given me some papers to fill out, barely paying attention to me as she did so. It was just a contract stating that I couldn't describe what I saw here to people outside, upholding company standards, etc. The liability waiver caught me off guard, but I figured it was just because of the experimental nature of the place. I signed it Daniel Davis, the alias I was using staring at me from the dotted line, reminding me of why I was here in the first place. When I finished filling out the paper I looked around the room at the other interns that were joining with me. First, I noticed the girl sitting across from me. Brunette, hair pulled back into a ponytail, eyes a deep emerald green, hiding behind a pair of thick framed glasses. She looked to be in her early 20s, my own age, with a slender frame, and olive skin. I wondered how the hell I could have missed her, she was the kind of person that could draw attention from the room. Locks of her hair fell in front of her face as she tapped the end of her pen against her cheek, clearly thinking about whatever form she was presently filling out. She must have felt me staring, as she began to peek up from her forms. Embarrassed, I quickly shifted my gaze to the other intern. He was an older gentleman, probably in his early 40s, with a soft face. He had short, brown hair and the slightest 5 o'clock shadow that accentuated his sharp jawline. I was intrigued to see a man his age working as an intern, but I guess the $18 an hour pay must look pretty appetizing to anyone. "Hey, can I borrow your pen? It looks like mine must have run out of ink." A female voice asked. It was a soft, friendly tone. I shifted my gaze to the source, to see the female intern looking at me. Oh god, I thought. I hadn't really had much contact with humanity after my parents disappeared, let alone a member of the fairer sex. I guess 9 months of nothing but brooding behind a computer screen and occasionally doing online classes can deal a hit to your social skills. "Uhhhhhh.... My pen?" I stammered. "Yes, your pen. I mean, if it's too much trouble I can just ask the guy over there, but he looks like he's having a hard-enough time as is." She stated. I looked over at the gentleman, who looked very concerned at whatever was on the clipboard in his lap. I assumed he probably was reading the waiver or something. "Yeah, sure." I reached over and gave her my pen. "Not much of a talker, eh?" She asked. "I uh, I kind of am I guess." I stammered. She laughed. "Well, my name is Sophie. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. And you are?" My real name is Lucas. But of course, she didn't need to know that. "Daniel. But my friends call me Danny." I stated. "Fair enough. So, Danny, what brings you to this job?" She questioned. I told her some BS story about how I had been working toward a degree in astrophysics and this job just happened to show up. She told me she was a chemistry major and had sought out this facility specifically. She was motivated, to the point where she was convincing me that I should be pursuing my career here. Of course, I had a different mission all together, but the thought was still there. We talked for about 15 minutes, as I slowly got to know this girl and she slowly got to know the man I was pretending to be. I didn't lie about everything, just most important things. We learned the other intern's name was Douglas, and he had just recently gone back to university for biochemistry. His wife stayed home with the kids, they inherited the house and car from his parents, so they didn't need much. He was reserved, but kind enough that we could make conversation. Douglas was just finishing his story when the door to our room opened. Standing in the doorway was an older man, in a pristine white lab coat and safety goggles. He cleared his throat, and raised his head, the wisps of hair left on his head shifting as he did so. "Interns?" He raised an eyebrow. "Please hand the receptionist your completed papers, and then follow me." He stated. There was a certain authority in his voice, the kind that demanded action. We complied and followed him down the hall. He led us to a set of offices, identical in size and shape, four in a row. "These will be your offices. We have placed your nameplates in them already, so please make yourself at home. We have left you some instructions on the desk, please follow them. I will return shortly to check your progress." He rasped. He gave us the slightest of smiles, and turned down the hallway, away from where we came. We scouted out the offices, Doug's was in the front, Sophie's in the middle, and mine was in the back. Doug said goodbye, wished us luck, and retreated to his office, leaving Sophie and I alone in the hallway. "We get our own offices? As interns? Awesome!" She exclaimed. "Hell yeah!" I said ecstatically. We parted ways, holding eye contact maybe a little too long for two random interns, and went to our respective offices. The walls were beige, with brown trim. It was about the size of an average cubicle, but it had its own door and window, complete with blinds. I would later ponder why the door was solid steel, but at the time I was too distracted by the events of the day to notice. I had my own wardrobe for my coat, a chest for personal belongings, and a sturdy oak desk, with a state of the art computer. I got to work quickly on the assignment on my desk, just simple stuff like creating an account and familiarizing myself with the system. When the man who led us here came back, he commented on our progress, and simply wandered off. The rest of the day was pretty much just that. Boring desk work and an occasional "You're doing well!" from a staff member. That is of course, until Sophie leaned into my office and handed me a piece of paper. "Hey, since the company messaging system records all of what we say, I figured I'd give you this, so we can keep in contact and maybe help each other out?" She stated. I took the paper and unfolded it, revealing the cell phone number nestled inside. Hell. Yes. I thought. When I heard her give the same speech to Doug, my confidence fell a little, but I wasn't fazed too much. I had a job to do. The next few days consisted of boring desk work, getting to know Sophie and Doug (mainly Sophie, sorry Doug), and learning about the company. I decided I had better just go along with the intern work for a while before doing any snooping around for information about my parents, to avoid suspicion. I learned that Sophie lives by herself a couple of blocks away from my house, which was awesome to hear. Doug worked as a mechanic for 10 years in a little shop he used to own. Never asked him what happened to it. I also learned that CycloneTech has been around for a mere 4 years, and has revolutionized the medical industry, as well as catapulting scientific research to a whole new level. Most of their discoveries were involving cures to odd and foreign diseases, new chemicals that I still can't pronounce, etc. Overall a successful company I suppose. Aside from the parent stealing, of course. 2 months later, I finally devised a way to dig for files without interruption. My superior, who we were required to call our "mentor", was the old guy from before. His name was George Blackwell, and he wasn't much of a talker. He was nice though, he never yelled or anything. Maybe I just met my quota, I don't know. Either way, after the millionth "status check" in his office, I had finally watched him put in his password enough to have it memorized. ATLA5pr675 I realized I was too closely monitored during the day to have any chance at getting to any hidden files fairly quickly, which led to me observing the routes of the security guards. I learned an interesting bit of information. At about 11:00 every night, the security guards make their last rounds and then leave the building entirely. A more perfect opportunity could not have presented itself. At first it was nerve wracking. The prospect of getting caught terrified me, but I pressed on nonetheless. The first few nights I would just sleep in my office, claiming that I had accidentally fell asleep the night before. Sophie said she "had my back" and "wouldn't let me sleep in a shitty office chair all night." And that was the end of that. I began leaving an unmonitored first-floor window open that, to my surprise, had no alarm. I would leave with Sophie, and then once I made it to my house, double back to the facility. I would claim that I forgot something, stay until the guard left, and around 1 or 2am I would leave through the open window. I hadn't been able to find much, that is, until just two days ago. I found an employee record. I hadn't had the chance to look inside yet, but this had to have a connection. Last modified date? 1 year ago. My parents would still be working at that time. So, I spent the next day preparing everything I needed, creating shortcuts, double checking the window, and making sure Sophie and Doug wouldn't be interrupting anything. I decided to stay on the night that Sophie would be working late with her administrator on a project, that way I could feign leaving before her. Everything was ready. I was about to finally figure out something about what this place did to my parents. The dull glow of my computer monitor illuminated my office. I had just crawled out from underneath the desk it sat upon, taking care not to bump my head on the rollout keyboard underneath. As I heard the last few footsteps heralding the end of the night guard's rounds, followed by the final slam of the front door, I set to work. The lights of business hours from the hallway were long gone, now the only thing piercing through the slits between the blinds on my wire-laced window was the reddish-orange light from the exit sign hanging only a few feet down the hallway outside. I straightened the back on my leather swivel chair and put my hands to the keyboard. "Tonight." I thought to myself. "Tonight, I am going to get to the bottom of all this." I paused the music I had been listening to, "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses and opened up the file explorer. I clicked on the shortcut that I had left in the Documents folder, passing several firewalls to reach the directory I had tried so hard to find. Apparently one password from my administrator was all that I needed to get inside. Neat. I scanned the names, finding the J's and my heart skipped a beat. Joseph Thompson. My father. I hovered my mouse over the file, heart racing, and attempted to open it. Password protected. I typed in my administrator's password, but it didn't work. Shit. I racked my brain trying to think of what I could possibly do to figure out how to get into this file when the silence was broken by something in the hallway. Crying. The sound of a woman crying. It felt familiar somehow, like I recognized the voice. This crying... this wasn't the sound of just someone sad. This was far deeper. This was the sound of the gross, slobbery wailing of someone who just lost something important. I would know, I was the one making those sounds for a long, long time. As I listened closer, something finally clicked, and I recognized the soft, feminine sobs in between. Sophie. Sophie, the girl I had been flirting with, that I had become very fond of, was bawling her eyes out in the hallway. At 11:20. My 'hero' instincts took over, and I flung the door open, to find her kneeling to the side of the hallway, bawling. I ran over to check on her. "Sophie? What's wrong? Are you okay?" I asked. Her crying slowed. She turned her head up to say something to me but stopped in her tracks. A noise pierced the quiet, echoing down the hall. Scraaaaaaape. Scraaaaaaape. Scraaaaaape. The sound of something sharp or metallic being dragged across tile. Almost like... claws? I used to have a pet Iguana, and I was reminded of the sound he would make skittering across the bathroom floor. Sophie's face immediately turned to one of sheer terror as the bawling began again. "What is that?" I asked frantically. "Sophie, what the hell is that??" "We.... we have to run... It... It killed him, Danny. It killed him." "What the hell are you talking about!? Killed who!?" I yelled. I didn't get an answer. Instead, I saw the shadow of a figure slowly turn the corner of the hallway. The hallway had only the exit sign's dim glow to illuminate the area, and the reddish tint just added another layer of uneasiness to the situation. I squinted and was able to see this figure through the gloom, coming from the hallway to the right. It stood at about 8 feet tall, but I couldn't make out any of the other features from this distance. I grabbed Sophie's hand, and immediately pulled her into my office, shutting the door and locking it. I motioned her to crawl under my desk and she obliged. I pondered what to do for a moment, as the sound of its footsteps slowly made their way closer. As I stood there, frozen in fear, my inner scientist tunneled its way out of my subconscious, and demanded I peek through the blinds, and examine what exactly we were up against. This "thing" finally moved into view, and I was shocked I didn't just lose my lunch right there on the spot. It was a humanoid, but that's the only thing human about it. Its head was bulbous and swollen, narrowing down to its "face” if you could even call it that. It had two slits where it's eyes should be, no nose, and no mouth. Its neck was about as big around as a toilet paper roll, which connected to an emaciated torso. In the center of its chest sat a strange metal pyramid that appeared to have been fused into the flesh. Its arms went down to its knees, ending in 4 sharp claws, each dripping with some unknown fluid. Its legs were long and spindly, each ending in a birdlike talon. The skin was stretched over the skeleton like silly putty, giving it a skeletal and otherwise tormented look. Its face was fixated on the door to my office, as it slowly and methodically made its way to the door. It reminded me of a cat, slowly stalking its prey. I shivered. Eventually my short burst of bravery finally ran out, and rationality set in. What the hell are you doing? What are you going to do, balance its checkbook? You're basically an accountant! I said to myself. I backed away from the window and swore under my breath. I looked back at Sophie, who was trembling under the desk, and whispered "What in the fuck is going on? What is that thing?" "It's a long story. I'll tell you when-" Her sentence was interrupted by the sound of claws scraping faster towards the door. We froze. I motioned for Sophie to stop talking, and I made the decision to peek through the blinds again. What I saw sent chills creeping up my spine. Its silhouette was just... standing there. Less than a foot in front of the door. Its head pointed at the ceiling, it's entire body was completely and absolutely stock still. I could have mistaken it for a statue had I not just seen it walking around. I stepped back, and mistakenly stepped right on the wheel of my chair. My body was sent toppling to the ground, and with it my chair went flying across the room. The crash was cacophonous, and I knew at that moment everything was going to shit. The next moment was a blur. As I attempted to recover from the fall, the loudest noise I had ever heard exploded into the room. The door. The door was no longer attached to the fucking frame. This... thing had just blown the goddamn door off. With its bare hands. Er, claws I suppose. As it stumbled in, now illuminated by the computer monitor's light, I got a second look. It was hideous. And I mean hideous. The skin was gray and dull, like hewn stone. It was stretched and strained over the putrid frame, some parts appearing thin as tissue paper, and other parts flaked and chafed. The slits where it's eyes should be we're still shut tight, but that metal pyramid in its chest was starting to... glow. Its jaw began opening, despite the lack of a mouth. I soon saw why. The skin that had covered where its mouth would have been began splitting, making a sickening noise not quite unlike the tearing of wet paper. Strings of torn tissue hung down over it's now exposed mouth, which was home to thousands of tiny, rotating teeth. Rotating teeth. It made a sound somewhere between that weird pterodactyl screech that some people do to weird out their friends and a vacuum cleaner. It was inhaling air. It kept inhaling. Kept sucking in air as I stood there mortified. Its gut began to slowly become engorged with the copious amounts of air it was receiving, and before long it was beginning to look more like a grotesque gray balloon than a stomach. In a flash, I saw Sophie, bellowing out a war cry, as she charged it from under the desk brandishing a box cutter that I had dropped earlier that day (I was delivering supplies to another scientist). The resulting explosion was deafening. The glass to my window shattered, by some miracle my computer survived. Sophie was launched backwards into the wall, and I was knocked off my feet. I scrambled to my feet, ready to face it again, reaching for my own Swiss Army knife from my desk. To my relief, the thing was dead. Its body lay limp on the floor, and then began... dissolving. Its body bubbled and spat, releasing a putrid odor that reminded me of the roadkill we would pass in my dad's convertible on a hot summer day. It slowly bubbled down to nothing, leaving only the metal pyramid that once jutted from its chest. Steam rose from the object, so we made the decision to leave it where it was for the moment. We listened carefully to the open hallway, making sure the coast was clear, before discussing what just happened. "So, you mind telling me what the fuck that thing was? Or should I just figure it out on my own." I snapped. I immediately felt bad. She didn't deserve me yelling at her, and she certainly didn't deserve whatever the hell happened with that thing. "Fine. I'll tell you. But I'm return, I want to know what the hell you are doing here this late at night." She retorted. Shit. I reluctantly agreed, and she began her story. To be continued... [EDIT]: Thank you to u/RIP-Morty for the critique, his advice helped me refine this story much more than it was before. Thank you again!
The Gunpla Academy lacked an official Auditorium, but its battle stadium had enough seating for the entire school's population, as well as a top-notch sound system. New and old students alike filed into the semi-circular stadium, splitting into Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors. There was murmuring in the hall as everyone waited for the address to start. At 10:30 AM sharp, it did. A light suddenly illuminated a raised dais in the middle of the room. The battle systems that made up the floor of the arena were still retracted, making a smooth area with hexagonal tiles. In the middle were the heads of each of the five Schools, who stood, each facing a different direction. The symbols of their expertise were displayed on their lapels in the form of silver pins. One of the four was a hard-faced asian man with stubble and short, graying, black hair. He lifted a microphone and began to speak. "Greetings! I am the head of Meijin's Mark, Kamiyasuri Taezu!" He waited for the Meijin's Mark crowd to calm down. "I would like to welcome all the new students who are starting this semester, and encourage them to try their best. Gunpla is a hard path, but it is a well-worn one, and I can assure you that those of us at Meijin's Mark are more than happy to assist those with the true desire to excel and aim for perfection." He handed the microphone to the next person, a slightly dark-skinned woman with a curly brown haircut. "Hey, everyone! It's me, Laura Tewes! Those of you who want to join the School of Battleshipping, I'll be your guide into the world of building from the heart! We're always looking for cute boys--I mean talented fighters!" Next in line was a man with glasses that always seemed to be reflecting the light, no matter what angle you looked from. He was relatively skinny, but handsome, with a goatee and swept-back hair. "I'm Aman Ba Akua, the leader of Dominari Hall. If you desire the drive and thrill that comes with victory, and if you have the resolve to win, even if your gunpla is torn to pieces, we welcome you." The next person to speak was a younger man, whose hair was spiked in an outrageous yellow-and-red do that seemed to defy gravity. He wore a leather jacket over his teaching uniform that had large gold chains on it. "Good morning Gunpla Academy!" His voice was loud and boisterous. "I am the man who is known as the Crimson Fist, but you may know me professionally as Roman Graham Comeva, the leader of the school of the Ultimate Form! If you want to be as awesome as you can be and look cool doing it, sign up now!" Finally, a tall woman with a sharp, professional look stepped forwards. Her long, red hair was held up in a tight bun. "I am the head of the Pla Hack school, Kanami Ango. If you wish to harness the unlimited power of the Plavsky Particle and bend it to your will, join us. That is all." The five heads then walked to five chairs along the back wall of the amphitheater, sitting down in the order they spoke. The murmuring restarted, but only among the freshmen. The rest seemed to know what was coming. Suddenly, the large screens normally used for showing matches lit up, displaying a dark but warm room, with the only visible light source being a roaring fireplace. A high-backed chair could be seen, with the back turned to the camera. A gloved, suited hand could be seen on top of an orange, fluffy cat. "Good morning. I am the headmaster of this school, Mr. Gunpla. I am glad to see such an enthusiastic group of youngsters. Also, I believe we have some new students this year." A ripple of laughter echoed around the stadium. "Welcome to the Gunpla Academy! In the four years you will study here, you will learn much, but you will also gain friends, rivals, and new ways of looking at Gunpla and perhaps yourself. While the Schools are a part of student life, joining one is not mandatory. They are simply there to collect students with similar ways of learning. The curriculum is standardized until you reach your junior year, though elective classes and clubs are available. There are countless ways to love Gunpla, and infinite ways to make it your own. Remember, in the words of the Third Meijin Kawaguchi! Gunpla is!" "FREEDOM!" The entire stadium erupted into cheers. After the noise had subsided, he continued. "Now, before we let you go, we have a few announcements to make. First, the Campus Hobby Store will be receiving shipments on the third Friday of each month, instead of the second. So if you're after rare kits, be sure to show up early or pre-order. Second, I'm sure our older students know Mrs. Haverforth, our melee combat instructor. She is currently on maternity leave, and so we have arranged for a new teacher to serve as her replacement until she feels well enough to return. I would like to introduce Miss Miria Von Sonnenblume." The silence turned to confused murmuring as a teenaged girl walked onto the stage. She reached the middle of the stage and bowed. Though young, she was quite the beauty, and many of the male students started to talk. "Miss Sonnenblume is a graduate of our academy, and has for the last few years been fighting on a competitive level. She is a master of swordplay and other forms of close-quarters combat, and I expect everyone to show her the respect that you would any other teacher. In return, I expect she will prove an excellent and capable instructor." The murmurs only increased in intensity. "A graduate? She's like fifteen!" "My little sister is older than her!" "Isn't the entry age for the academy fourteen? Did she skip grades or something?" "Competitive? What does that mean?" "Have you ever heard of her?" "Not that I--Wait, there's something familiar about her!" "What is it?" "I don't know. It's hard for me to place the name, but her appearance is something I've seen before. I think she's American." Speculation abounded, but the headmaster continued. "With that, we conclude this assembly. Thank you all for coming, and keep building gunpla!" The hordes of students began to file out through onto the campus, and groups of friends coalesced and started to talk. Johann ignored them for the most part and started walking.
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