ty62f y6zrr db979 66559 afs3i 8e626 eena6 zy2fa bkdbh b8d73 b78tz hs4de yhk9h ey665 78e99 rb7t8 zz6ye r5ze8 53fd3 shiid bfahe Why am I getting this? I just want to play my tables.... I have had MONTHS of issues, and now this. Does anyone have a fix for this..? I sign it, go to play my tables that I havent been able to play for months now, only to get this. |

Why am I getting this? I just want to play my tables.... I have had MONTHS of issues, and now this. Does anyone have a fix for this..? I sign it, go to play my tables that I havent been able to play for months now, only to get this.

2022.01.21 13:37 mc_donkey Why am I getting this? I just want to play my tables.... I have had MONTHS of issues, and now this. Does anyone have a fix for this..? I sign it, go to play my tables that I havent been able to play for months now, only to get this.

Why am I getting this? I just want to play my tables.... I have had MONTHS of issues, and now this. Does anyone have a fix for this..? I sign it, go to play my tables that I havent been able to play for months now, only to get this. submitted by mc_donkey to LegendsUltimate [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 Poggers_Loggers Official Satellite Image Map of Bahariterra - Bahariterran Archipelago/Bahariterra Islands

Official Satellite Image Map of Bahariterra - Bahariterran Archipelago/Bahariterra Islands submitted by Poggers_Loggers to Bahariterra [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 internalocean China's economy poised to grow around 5.5%, cabinet adviser says - Reuters

China's economy poised to grow around 5.5%, cabinet adviser says - Reuters submitted by internalocean to globalworldnews [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 AutoNewspaperAdmin [World] - Iran, Russia and China begin naval drill | The Hindu

[World] - Iran, Russia and China begin naval drill | The Hindu submitted by AutoNewspaperAdmin to AutoNewspaper [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 MountLH75 What would you say are the ‘fundamental procedures’ a good product manager will follow?

In other words a product manager must do.
Including roadmaps, sprints, retrospective meetings
submitted by MountLH75 to ProductMgmt [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 TomatoHead9000 Sonic.exe As A Pokemon Card

Sonic.exe As A Pokemon Card submitted by TomatoHead9000 to creepypasta [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 inmoon دزدی فربد از امیر لو رفت

دزدی فربد از امیر لو رفت submitted by inmoon to Hotzz [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 Yeah_Yeah12345 Xbox 360 disc drive error

Hello!
I recently bought a used xbox 360, but i ran into a problem. It sometimes reads the dvd disc and sometimes it doesent, but it read cds just fine. I bought replacement laser as i thought that would fix it, but it still does the same thing, which is weird because i tested the laser on the other xbox and it works just fine. Does anyone have any idea about what is the cause of this problem?
submitted by Yeah_Yeah12345 to xbox360 [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 passes3 Looking At The New "Critical" Security Firmware Update Hitting Systems - Delivers New Intel Microcode

Looking At The New submitted by passes3 to intel [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 Roldrage1234 Weird glitch? Can access Cloud's skills on a generic dragoon on android WOTL, is this a known thing?

Weird glitch? Can access Cloud's skills on a generic dragoon on android WOTL, is this a known thing? submitted by Roldrage1234 to finalfantasytactics [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 sandman11235 Shareholder Proposal: Gamestop Corp. should open both Roth and Traditional IRA Shareholder Investment Programs at Computershare

Good afternoon Apes,
Prefacing with "Not Financial Advice", etc.
After seeing Dr. Trimbath's post on Shareholder Proposals (and subsequent discussion on this sub), I would like to put out a mostly final draft of a Shareholder Proposal that I believe will be a gamechanger for the DRS process. Unfortunately, due to the January 2021 amendment to Sec Rule 14a-8(b), I personally am not eligible to submit a Shareholder Proposal this year. So I am posting here for any wiling and eligible ape to pick up the baton and run with it!
Edit - To add clarity, here are the ownership thresholds to be able to submit a Shareholder Proposal per the amended SEC Rule 14a-8(b) linked above:
>$2,000 for at least 3 years; OR
>$15,000 for at least 2 years; OR
>$25,000 for at least 1 year

Shareholder Proposal

Oscar T. Grouch, 123 Sesame Street, New York, NY 1234, who directly owns XX and beneficially owns XXX Class A shares of GameStop Corp. ("GME" or "Company"), submits the following proposal:
RESOLVED: The shareholders of GME, assembled at the annual meeting in person and by proxy, hereby request that the Board of Directors immediately engage the services of the Company's Transfer Agent, Computershare Limited ("Computershare") to enable both investment and Direct Registration of Class A shares in both Roth and Traditional Individual Retirement Accounts ("IRA") Shareholder Investment Programs at Computershare.

Supporting Statement

You are urged to vote "Yes" for this proposal for the following reasons;
I believe that the Company's potential for stable, long-term growth are being hampered by rampant short selling and may also be subject to illegal naked short selling. The Company acknowledges the investment risks due to short selling in its 10-Q filling on 08 DEC 2021.

Inasmuch as the Company and its shareholders may be suffering financially deleterious effects of short selling and alleged naked short selling, I believe that one of the most effective methods to protect my investment in the Company is to utilize the Direct Registration System ("DRS") and hold my shares under my own name with Computershare. Currently, I can direct register my shares held in a standard brokerage account. Unfortunately, I cannot direct register my shares held in neither my Traditional IRA nor ROTH IRA.

As a middle-class retail investor, I rely heavily on the tax advantages afforded by IRAa to build wealth and prepare for retirement. I am not alone in my cohort. According to research conducted by the Pew Research Center, a majority of American Families have some level of investment in the stock market, most of which comes in the form of retirement accounts (Pew,2020). Additionally, research conducted by the Investment Company Institute shows that assets in IRAs totaled $13.2 trillion at the end of the third quarter of 2021 and that the share of assets held in IRAs compared to other retirement accounts has increased from 22% in 2000 to 35% in 2021 (ICI, 2021)

The Company has benefited significantly form grassroots investment over the last year, raising over $1 billion in capital through its 2021 share offerings. However, it continues to be subject to high levels of short selling and alleged naked short selling. By opening Roth and Traditional IRA Shareholder Investment Programs at Computershare, the Company will be enabling many of its loyal, middle class retail investors to better protect their respective investments, which in turn will better protect the respective investments in all Company Shareholders.

Directions

Per the GME 2021 Proxy Statement, eligible shareholders who want to submit a Shareholder Proposal must:

  1. Submit via registered, certified, or express mail to : Secretary, GameStop Corp., 625 Westport Parkway, Grapevine, Texas 76051.
  2. Submit no earlier than the close of business on February 9, 2022 and no later than the close of business on March 11, 2022
Do with this what you will and good luck apes!

Credit goes to u/TigranMetz who posted this over the weekend and got it close to the top of the sub with more than 4200 upvotes. However reddot put it in the old so that it could not be copied and posted again.

So i transcribed it and provide it again. As a PS, i grew up with many undiagnosed reading and writing difficulties that i've pushed though to get to where i am now. I only mention this to provide encouragement to anyone sitting on the fence about a more active role in this journey.
Apes are the Catalyst
submitted by sandman11235 to Superstonk [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 Lind0ks As you can guess tommyinnit didn't even make this video nor was mentioned in it

As you can guess tommyinnit didn't even make this video nor was mentioned in it submitted by Lind0ks to youngpeopleyoutube [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 esprenNFT my new NFT !!!

submitted by esprenNFT to NFTsMarketplace [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 kitkatofthunder Went on a Trip and Got Stacked!

Went on a Trip and Got Stacked! submitted by kitkatofthunder to pokemongobrag [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 officiallysuhail dang bro, this game must be very not good game

dang bro, this game must be very not good game submitted by officiallysuhail to ihadastroke [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 bravesfan14 Hanging On The Line

I still got criticized for being not just single but never married. I never had a kid, never raised a family even though I came close once. Such was the life of being a single forty-year-old woman living in the 1940s. And deep down, I only had interest when Frank and I were a couple… specifically back when we were robbing outlaws.
The Great Depression hit everyone hard and I was no exception. Living in Tallahassee, Florida, I didn’t know what to do or, Hell, where to even live. Mom and pop passed away in twenty-eight, and I was on my own, penniless and homeless, at the ripe old age of twenty-one. I had no one to turn to then. There was no living family, no inheritance worth a damn, and above all, no jobs or prospects on the horizon. I was alone.
… Until I met Frank Zito. Frank was ten years older than me, but the gap didn’t matter. Like me, he too was an outcast of Tallahassee. But what Frank had that I didn’t was charisma and lots of it.
When I first saw Frank out at Lake Ella’s gazebo, he was like a matinee idol stepping off the screen. Frank was tall, dark, and handsome even when unemployed, homeless, and broke. The five o’clock shadow didn’t bother me at the time, not when his checkered houndstooth polo shirt and jeans fit so snug on that nice body.
At the gazebo, Frank’s Southern drawl matched mine. His smooth talk swept me away in the way he described how pretty I was, how nice I was dressed, how my green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and how I was too much, way too regal for a town like Tallahassee.
I was immediately smitten. Not that I wasn’t used to compliments. On that day alone, I’d already dealt with two homeless creeps attempting to get handsy before I gave them a hard slap across the kisser to let them know who was boss. But the thing was, until Frank, no one had ever dared call me beautiful. I wasn’t tall, just lanky. I was scrawny then just like I was all the way up to 1947… some would say boyish. That’s what they called me growing up anyway. My slim figure was one of many reasons I figured not a whole lot of boys asked me out on dates, much less boys that were as sexy as Frank.
Yet there we bonded on Lake Ella. Mind you, this wasn’t an affluent side of town, damn sure not during the Depression. There were plenty of other down-and-out people hurt by the Depression surrounding us. Given the abundance of crumbling benches, decrepit phone booths, and the many tall weeds in the grass, Lake Ella could’ve certainly used a renovation… but Frank made it so much prettier.
Walking by the murky water, we passed constant ducks as we got to know one another. My impromptu trip to loiter on the gazebo had become our first date. Before I knew it, we were holding hands and sharing our own hopes and dreams.
By a most glorious lamppost, Frank pulled me in close. The move was smooth and swift.
I let him hold me in his arms. With Frank’s good looks, the summer heat never felt hotter. Both of our gazes devoured the other. The pretty sunset, the sprawling lake, all of it was ignored in this majestic moment. We were starstruck by the sheer sight of one another.
Silence settled in. We were too captivated to muster up small talk. But this tension was a welcome distraction from the Depression and the many horrors it had to offer. When Frank held me, there was no dread or fear in our shared silence: these were the nerves of excitement. The type of fun anxiety brought about by young love.
“Well,” I finally said. Teasing Frank, I ran my hands along his firm arms. “Whatcha got to say now, Frank?”
Frank just smiled.
“I believe it’s your move,” I continued as I felt along his waist and ass. I was sweating, alright, and it wasn’t just due to the July evening…
“Sorry, I just wanted to take my time,” he said, that smile going nowhere. He tilted my chin, pointing my eyes right at him… not that I was complaining. “I was too busy admiring.”
Chuckling, I gave his ass a playful smack. “Well, get on with it then!”
At my command, Frank leaned in and gave me the greatest kiss I’d ever experienced. I felt sparks explode off our embrace. Our combined carnal lust helped make Florida’s heat further sizzle. We ran our hands along one another’s bodies, savoring the touch. Of course, bystanders watched, all of them homeless ramblers like us... But I sure as Hell didn’t care.
Like wild teenagers freed on a Friday night, Frank and I then proceeded to hit the town. Sure, we only had about a dollar in change between us, but we had to commemorate our joy in some way. There was a quick dinner at the hamburger stand and then we got ice cream.
Needless to say, there was a quickie in between the carefree catharsis… The spontaneous kissing got carried away when our hands ran wild along one another’s bodies. I was only let down by our decision to carry on in a public bathroom for privacy. But hey, where else could we go at this time? And on top of that, neither one of us could wait. I hadn’t been with anyone in months so the cramped bathroom stall did little to subdue our passion in the heat of the moment. Frank was incredible and going off his reactions, I liked to think I was too...
Soon after, nightfall was upon us. Frank took me to the Black Dog Café for some gin and beers we’d been craving. This place was the triumphant last stop to our dream date.
I wasn’t surprised we were the only customers inside. Tallahassee was dead during the week, especially when the universities were out… and especially during an economic depression. Not that Black Dog was much to write home about. The nocturnal coffee shop only stayed in business due to its ‘secret’ speakeasy status that the entire town knew about… not that the late shift cops who came in for shots during breaks were looking to ambush Black Dog anytime soon.
The Café had been the same since I’d first started scheming my way in for mixed drinks during high school. Located a few blocks away from Lake Ella, Black Dog was the last of the shops in this district, the last one standing from the Depression’s deadly impact… Like I said, selling booze during the Prohibition helped prolong its painful survival. At least surrounded by abandoned buildings, the café had a monopoly on Lake Ella’s straggler visitors, drunks, and drifters.
The bar’s interior was a total cave, especially stuffy in the summer. A ceiling fan was our only defense against the heat. Photographs of jazz musicians and framed records were the decorative paintings for this joint. The small stage in the corner was empty but on the weekends was usually vibrant with the vibes of many amateur musicians, jazz always Black Dog’s specialty.
At a small table, Frank and I sat across from one another. We were both two drinks in and already getting tipsy.
“You like Tallahassee?” Frank teased.
I shrugged, teasing him right back. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
“Yeah.” Frank leaned back in his chair, flexing that appealing physique for me. His smug confidence was reminiscent of a college professor… just one clad in tight tantalizing clothing. “I didn’t like it as much till I met you.”
“The same.”
“If only I could take you out somewhere… nice. Real nice.”
Glancing around the café, I saw only one employee behind the bar counter: a bored man in his late twenties. I could tell by his fading muscles and chiseled looks he was greatly missing the college days... but he was still cute. “But this is nice,” I said as I faced Frank’s handsome face. “Especially with you.” Before he could respond, I reached over and clasped his hands in a supportive grip. “It’s just we’re all in a bad spot right now.”
“Tell me about it,” Frank quipped.
Persuasive, I squeezed his hands. “But it’s the whole world, babe. It’s not just us.”
“Yeah…” Frank pulled away from me to lean back. His smile disappeared into contemplation. His personality disappeared into silence.
I didn’t like seeing him somewhat unsettled. Not only was it less attractive but the shit was killing my mood. “Frank, come on.” I grabbed a hold of my glass of gin. “We’ll both move on once all this ends.” I forced a chuckle. “We’ll make money at some point.”
Frank scoffed. “But why not now, Anna.”
Trying to reassure him, I smiled. “Well. I mean… you know how it is.”
“What?” Frank leaned in closer. “All because of this depression.” He snatched his beer. “That means we can’t be happy?”
I threw up my hands, spilling some of my gin but this drunk, I didn’t care enough for it to slow me down. “But we can!” I waved my gin around the bar, my smile getting wider. “Just look at today. Today was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
A frustrated Frank took a swig of beer. “But we can do more.”
“How?” I teased, prompting Frank’s smile to return. “What can we do in a Depression, Frank.”
Frank hesitated in the heat. An hour away from midnight and we were both still sweating...
I got concerned in the silence. “Babe. I like this.” Leaning over, I grabbed his hand once more, my emotions airing out. “I like you.”
But Frank pulled away from me to readjust his pompadour real quick. Not that it needed any fixing.
Trying to reassure him, I grabbed my glass. “We’ll just keep being poor together.”
“But that’s what I’m afraid of, Anna,” Frank replied.
“You know this is only our first date right,” I joked. Amidst his chuckle, I took another sip. “We don’t have to plan everything.”
“Well…” In a sly swoop, Frank leaned in closer toward me. His grin became more mischievous. “I have an idea.”
I froze in the moment. I wasn’t scared or frightened… just awash with an anxiety, an uncertainty about what this most unpredictable and alluring young man had in store for me.
Before I could respond, Frank turned his attention toward the handsome bartender walking through the kitchen’s swinging traffic doors. He was the only other person in here with us.
“All you gotta do’s just follow my lead, baby,” Frank said as he watched the bartender return to the counter.
Strangely enough, I wasn’t worried… not at all. Rather than fear, an excitement settled in. Whatever Frank had in mind might be crazy, even dangerous… but I knew he was gonna make it fun.
Smirking, I leaned in closer. “I will.”
Frank looked at me.
“Within reason,” I added.
“Good enough for me,” Frank beamed. He then stood up without warning.
At first, I was delighted by his enthusiasm. Frank’s electric charisma was back, so was that smile.
Then I saw why Frank was so confident: he held a pistol. I didn’t know where he got the small revolver, I didn’t know if it was loaded. I figured he must’ve retrieved it while I went to the bathroom. Maybe he’d bought it that day or maybe he’d stored it somewhere downtown. The thing was that I wasn’t scared or alarmed, I was enthralled. Frank had never looked sexier. He was an outlaw… and well, now I guess so was I.
“Babe,” I said, catching myself from completely gushing.
Frank waved me over toward him.
Playing the lookout, I saw where the bartender hadn’t even noticed the weapon as he performed his nightly tasks of cleaning the empty glasses. My smile then gave Frank the okay.
Him and I finished off the booze and slammed our respective drinks down in unison. I trembled from anticipation, sweated from the appeal of the unknown rather than the stifling humidity: what the Hell were we gonna do next?
“You ready?” Frank whispered with a smile.
I nodded fervently. I gave in to my own desperate need for fun… no matter how dangerous. Before Frank even asked, I jumped up beside him. In less than twenty-four hours, we’d gone from strangers to lovers to partners-in-crime.
Staying at Frank’s side, we both confronted the Black Dog bartender. Frank and I’s smiles mirrored one another in madcap merriment. Together, we were unstoppable.
The cashier flinched at the sight. His youth was unable to disguise the obvious fear… not when he was staring down that merciless firearm.
Keeping his cool, Frank waved the gun toward the cash register. “Give us the money.”
I glided toward the register. In one casual motion, I snatched a paper bag off the counter.
“Thanks, babe,” I heard Frank say.
Beating the bartender to the register, I turned toward Frank. “No problem.”
Under gunpoint, the bartender opened the register. I swung open the paper bag and held it toward him. This up close, I really saw the uncomfortable nerves piercing through the guy’s good looks. He was like a frightened child cowering from the thunder and lightning that was Frank and I.
Frank stopped right next to me. I stole a grin at him. Frank’s hold to the pistol was so tight... Our heartbeats now pounded harder than the bartender’s.
The bartender struggled to put the ones and fives in our bag. His trembling alone spilled a few bucks Frank made him pick up. The process was slow, even embarrassing considering our hostage was far from old or feeble.
“Hurry it up!” I barked at him.
The cashier picked up the pace. The bag then got heavier with the coins, but Frank and I’d take whatever we could considering the era... And deep down, I was allured by the power, by how much I’d commanded this good-looking guy to do as I pleased.
Frank grinned at me. “That’s the spirit.”
Unable to help myself, I wrapped an arm around Frank’s waist, ensnaring him in my grip. “I guess we’re naturals.”
“I guess so,” Frank replied.
The swinging doors then burst open, startling everyone! The bartender dropped a dozen quarters. I dropped one side of the bag before recovering quick enough to save the cash and Frank and I’s hopes and dreams. Frank even lowered the gun... briefly.
I looked up in time to see a shotgun pointed right at me. A fat cook was holding it, his face uglier and more unflinching than the shotgun’s barrel.
“You little tramp!” the cook yelled at me, his greasy glower matching the shrill voice.
I didn’t just see my life flash before my eyes, I felt it leave my soul.
Right when the cook got ready to pull the trigger, Frank pushed me to the side. Everything played out in slow motion, but Frank was still quicker than the rest.
He aimed the pistol at the cook and fired away! The loud gunshots didn’t make me jump… Instead, the shots soothed me.
Two slugs burrowed deep inside the cook’s face. Each bullet resembled a leech further digging itself deeper into the man’s juicy flesh as blood streamed out of the wounds, streaming all across his cheeks and down his neck.
I stood there and watched, fascinated. Frank’s other arm stayed in front of my chest, holding me back, but I wasn’t complaining. I was one captive audience.
“Shit!” I heard the bartender cry.
Slowly veering into lifelessness, the cook fell to both knees, the shotgun still in his hands, its butt end heading for the floor…
Upon impact, the shotgun barrel slid upward, right below the man’s chin. His dying finger twitched for a killshot!
The loud gunshot made the bartender scream in horror! I heard the windows rattle. I felt excitement further hold me in its grip.
The fat man’s face exploded right before us! Crimson sprayed out everywhere, re-coating the walls with red. The blast was so powerful it sent blood well over six feet away and all over me, Frank, and the cashier.
Still kneeling, the cook’s face was now a mask of flesh that’d been pulled down, its bits and pieces dangling down and barely hanging on to the rest of his head. Muscles and tendons were seen behind the ‘mask’. Crimson paint hit the floor in a repetitive rhythm...
“No,” the bartender muttered. He looked over at Frank and I as he held his hands up slowly. “No, please!”
I wanted to feel sympathy for him but I couldn’t lie to myself. Frank’s exhilaration was contagious… as was his chuckle. I just joined him. With a lover’s drive, I reached out and pulled Frank closer, hugging him tight.
“Y’all shouldn’t have tried us,” I said to the bartender, struggling through the laughter.
The young man cowered back against the wall. The good looks made him vulnerable. His trembling hit another gear. I could even see tears form in his eyes, see his shivering hands try to wipe the teardrops away out of an embarrassment he couldn’t escape.
“No shit,” Frank replied.
Gripping on to Frank tighter, I sensed his adrenaline, his youthful euphoria… I felt the same way. In a quick turn, I stole an admiring glance at Frank. Amidst the blood stains and gooey grue, he never looked hotter. Out of part playfulness and part thirst, I ran a hand through his pompadour, disregarding the blood and sweat in favor of my own enjoyment.
“Can I try?” I asked.
Frank smirked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bartender squirm. He knew what was coming next...
“You sure?” Frank said.
Not hesitating, I slammed the paper bag of cash into his chest. “Hell yeah.” I held my hand out toward Frank, already knowing the answer. “Hand it over, babe.”
An amused Frank placed the pistol in my palm.
“No!” I heard the bartender plead. “I won’t tell anyone!”
I looked on at the man that would be my first victim. I had to smirk, the confidence not just at a Great Depression but all-time high. Something about seeing the bartender quiver beneath my power satisfied me… similar to the way I felt when Frank first flirted with me. The same way I felt when Frank and I shared our first kiss.
“Please don’t!” the bartender went on. He held his hands out toward me for a pathetic shield. “I’m begging you. Please! Don’t kill me!”
“What are you waiting on?” I heard Frank tease me.
With a sarcastic glower, I faced him.
“You scared?” Frank went on.
“Not at all,” I replied. I then aimed right at the cashier. His subsequent panic gave me chills of the good variety. There was no inner struggle. Nothing crashed my mood… not even when we all noticed the cook finally fall face-first to the floor.
I deliberated on pulling the trigger. Such was the fun of seeing this stranger plead for his life. But I knew Frank would say something if I didn’t knock him off quick enough. Behind a smug smile, I fired my first shot.
One bullet got the bartender right between the eyes! Blood spewed over the wall behind him. The man jolted back, slipping and sliding over his own blood drenching the floor. His body was nothing more than a twitching corpse staving off the inevitable...
Turning, I held the gun out toward Frank. His stunned yet impressed expression electrified me. “I think I did better than you,” I noted.
Frank took the pistol from me. “How the Hell’d you learn how to shoot like that?”
“Daddy taught me.” I shrugged… not even breaking stride when I heard the bartender’s body splash into his blood. “We had a farm before the Crash.”
“I see.”
“I can probably shoot better than you,” I teased before leading the way toward the Black Dog entrance.
Grinning, Frank followed after me. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
That massacre was our first crime. And to this day, the Black Dog Café robbery remained the most fun. Of course, I was glad Frank saved me at the time… I was glad he gave me my first ‘kill’ as well. But over time, our relationship grew more tense both in the personal and professional sense.
From 1930 to 1945, we ran strong without a wedding. But soon, the arguments increased. The unfaithful antics from both of us were constant. However, none of these were part of the reason I came to hate Frank Zito.
Up until that fateful heist, we’d only done small scale robberies in small town America. General stores, rural banks, we’d hit up the types of places we knew lacked security and the types of places no one in the press gave a damn about. Rarely were we ambitious even when we left behind a trail of corpses. Such was the outlaw way I’d learned from Frank: leave no witnesses... ever.
Of course, once the Depression ended we didn’t have to do as many jobs. The odd robbery here and there kept us afloat in our tour of two-star motels and bed-and-breakfasts. That being said, we didn’t have to keep doing these robberies… but we did anyway. We kept killing people.
I wasn’t complaining, Hell, I was the one who’d drag Frank alone for all the extra adventures. The excitement was too much. I needed this thrill.
The most pride I’d ever felt came not from the love I felt for Frank but the fun I had in this chase. I took immense pride in never being caught over those fifteen years. We were career crooks without a blemish on our resumè. And the whole time I thought we were more than just lovers… I thought we were a team.
But that all changed in the Carrabelle Hotel robbery. There down at the Florida beaches, I thought Frank and I would be set for the summer of 1945. We’d rob the nice yet quiet hotel lobby then run wild along the sandy white shoreline and the glistening blue waters of the Apalachee Bay.
Instead, Frank abandoned me. He left me for dead. After he’d secured the money and ran out to crank up the Chrysler Windsor, I stayed behind to make sure we’d be safe. I was the bodyguard for both of us at that point so I had to put a few slugs in the clerk just like I had to put one in the old security guard’s head. We couldn’t get caught, not with the love I had for Frank. Not when we had this bond.
Only seconds after rushing out of the lobby and into the blistering sunlight, I saw our bond was officially broken: Frank was gone. The Chrysler was nowhere in sight.
Sure, there was some panic… but that subsided once I remembered I’d killed all the witnesses. What I felt most now was heartbreak. For the first time in my life I felt emotions resembling hurt and anguish.
Frank’s betrayal battered me. The fact he hadn’t told me anything or left me a note made this break-up all the more bitter. And at the Carrabelle, I didn’t have much time to weep… not after committing a double murder.
It turned out I had to move faster than I expected. Right when I left the hotel lobby, I heard sirens crash the scene. How they got there that quickly wasn’t so much a question as another final insult from my ex. His latest sting put more salt in my wounded heart: he’d called the police after leaving me. Frank had stole my trust, my share of the money, and now he’d made a real mistake: he stole my respect.
I got out of there before anyone could hunt me down. Then I spent the next two years hibernating save for some spare slaughters. The attacks were just enough to keep me alive both in the financial and spiritual sense. Without Frank or anyone else to help in the executions, I had to be a bit more clever and target even smaller places. Always a Southern girl, I never strayed too far from Tallahassee either.
Much to my relief, no one ever suspected me. Getting a fake license and a new name helped but still, my calm demeanor and polite personality offset all suspicion. Regardless of the times I would give in to my literal bloodlust and go on a brief killing spree, I’d channel what Frank had taught me over the course of our relationship: how to blend in to societal conformity without sacrificing those carnal urges.
Aside from the murders, the main motivation that kept me surviving day after day (and soon, year after year) was Frank himself. I no longer needed him. I needed to kill him.
I stayed in hiding ever since the Carrabelle incident. A struggle, sure, and a wait that tested both my impatience and bitter emotions. Migrating from mediocre motel to mediocre boarding house meant all the more time I had to think about Frank and how he did me wrong. When I wasn’t crying, I’d punch walls or break furniture… and on those certain special nights, I’d take my anger out on whatever unlucky cashier or customer I stumbled upon in those exhilarating robberies.
Being this down and out meant I was often alone. Like an urban hermit, I rarely left whatever jail cell of a room I’d recently rented. There was no one in my life save for the other unsavory characters I’d stumble across: the hitmen, the drug dealers, small time crooks, and prostitutes that were all outcasts like me. Not that I was complaining… After Frank, I wouldn’t fall for the mirage of love again. I needed to focus on myself.
So that was why I made my way back out to Lake Ella in July of 1947. The date was close enough to Frank and I’s anniversary without making me angry or shed tears… it just made me feel a slight sickening sensation. The night air did little to suppress the heat but that didn’t stop me from making a single lap around the lake in order to scope out the scene.
A nearby city striking clock was heard sounding off ten times. But there was enough noise and chitter-chatter out here to drown out every one of those strikes… even this late, Lake Ella had experienced a post-Depression and post-World-War-II boom amongst the city’s disillusioned residents: namely the homeless, delinquents, and ex-soldiers.
None of the characters around me looked friendly. I got the side-eye glares, the sneers. Hands reached toward me in pitiful pick-up attempts I swiftly rejected with my glower. Dressed in a pants suit, I figured I’d look out-of-place but didn’t give a shit… I had something important I had to do.
During that initial lap, I saw where the lake now had a glorious fountain in the middle of it. I also passed Black Dog Café. Since the end of Prohibition, the Café had exploded even more in popularity. Right now, the jazz flowed through the night, its moody beat giving Lake Ella a deserving soundtrack. Outside Black Dog, I saw barflys and night owls of all ages congregate, their mood certainly more jovial than the usual clientele that was there during the era Frank and I were together. Yet deep down, I knew none of those drunks would ever reach the highs we did… damn sure not matching the joy of that mesmerizing moment Frank first handed me that gun.
Soon, I reached a phone booth. The spot was secluded like I wanted. A tall oak tree gave me added protection. A few sleeping ducks were my only companions in these shadows.
I slid inside and closed the glass door behind me. An elation began to stifle the simmering anger I’d felt throughout the walk. Wiping sweat off my bangs, I looked back at Black Dog. I wanted one last glimpse into the youthful euphoria and optimism Frank had me leave behind. Who’d have thought that one night at such a dive bar would be the highlight of my romantic life?
Leaning back, I snatched the phone off the hook. In the other hand, I revealed over ten nickels… an arsenal of time, I figured. I just hoped I had enough for this fateful phone call with Frank. Don’t ask me why but I had no worries on certain things: I knew he’d answer even this late.
Before I put the phone to my ear, a slight tapping hit the door! I could tell a long fingernail was surely the culprit.
I turned.
Not to my surprise, a frail woman in her sixties was standing outside. Her fingernails were claws, her curly hair a mop. She folded her arms not from a cold that didn’t exist this time of year but from an embarrassment at the many holes and patches her blouse and pants held.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she started. “But if you have any loose change, I’d really appreciate-”
I held up my arms, always my go-to defense for fending off the homeless. “I’m sorry.” I clenched my fist, making sure to hide the many nickels I had in tow. “I don’t have anything.”
The lady got the message. She gave me a nice smile and wave before making her way over toward the sidewalk.
I wasn’t upset. After all, she didn’t really bother me, she was just a minor roadblock to my goal. But for this paramount conversation with Frank, I needed my complete and utter focus.
Stealing one more glance out the door, I saw the woman now sitting on a bench. Her posture was defeated, the woman homeless but harmless.
Normally I’d have felt bad if not for the bigger plans I had in store. Not waiting any longer, I told the operator who I wanted: Frank Zito, the one with an address on Hemmings Street.
As she got to work on connecting us, I took a deep breath, the anxiety not from joy of talking to my ex but at finally confronting him.
Frank answered. I sensed his shock in the way he immediately lost his voice upon recognizing mine.
Just like I expected, Frank didn’t hang up. Somehow, I kept my cool regardless of the feelings I still kept inside: the love I still felt for him. But my own moral code wouldn’t allow mercy… not at this point.
Over those next few nickels I used as ammunition for time, our conversation stayed stilted. Frank was obviously awkward… he sounded uncharacteristically uneasy, Frank for once more nervous than me. I figured he was just trying to elicit sympathy. Such was the life of career criminals like us. You couldn’t trust us, and if you did, we took advantage… just as Frank had done to me before.
His acting job wasn’t too bad. Amidst Frank saying for the fifth time he’d left ‘that life’ behind, I gazed up at a starless sky. The pitch black night offered no light or hope… just darkness.
“I suggest you get out of it too, Anna,” Frank said, his voice a bit raspier, losing its energy slowly but surely since his apparent retirement. “It’s the best thing to ever happen to me. You just need to go somewhere and find a place you can call home-”
“I thought I did,” I replied in a cold, unflinching tone. Still I kept my clinical stance. I hid any of the anguish I knew would make me look weak… even if deep in my heart, I felt the same pitiful pain and hurt I’d felt since the day he abandoned me. “I thought it’d be with you, Frank.”
There was a hesitation on the other end... a solemn sigh.
Restraining my own urge to comfort what was once the love of my life, I looked out at Lake Ella’s dark waters. This late, I could hear the glorious fountain and its constant, rhythmic spewing even over Black Dog’s final act. Most of the café’s customers were gone while my night was just getting started… myself and the homeless woman who I still saw slouching on that park bench.
I heard Frank’s heavy breathing. Now I knew I had him really unsettled.
“Listen, Anna, don’t call me back,” he said. “Lose my number, get out of my Goddamn life.”
Those fun memories gave way to the hatred I’d been cultivating this entire time. I tilted my head back, tilting the phone’s receiver in the process… but there was no way I could deny how pissed I was. I hid the anger by way of not responding… not yet anyway.
“I can’t believe you,” Frank then sneered. “After two years, you still can’t fucking move on.”
Taking control, I held the receiver steady as I leaned in closer to the mouthpiece, my glower not going anywhere. “Well, Frank, it’d have been a lot easier if you had the balls to tell me.”
Frank scoffed. “Tell you what-”
“That you didn’t love me. That you were too fucking scared so instead you left me to die, you coward. You called the police.”
Frank didn’t reply… an awkward silence lingered on his end. He always cowered anytime he got called out or Hell, anytime he knew he fucked up.
I turned the pain into clear disdain. No way I was gonna cry now nor even let Frank hear me cry over him. “You can’t even apologize, can you,” I berated him.
In a burst of static, Frank’s voice hurled itself at me: “You’d have done the same, you crazy bitch! You killed them too-”
“But I wouldn’t have killed you,” I responded, my voice at a clinical coldness… the polar opposite of Frank’s current demeanor. Leaning back, I placed one hand against the glass. “I never would’ve.”
“Anna-”
“And I damn sure wouldn’t have taken all the money, you asshole.” I shook my head in disgust but I stifled any chills or histrionics. I was taking the high road all the way. “I wouldn’t have left you to die.”
Frank let out a weary sigh as if he were rejecting a homeless person’s pitiful request rather than facing his sins from the past. “I did what I had to do, Anna. It was time.”
“Time?”
“Yes, I-”
“Time for you to start a family with Denise,” I said sharply and confidently… already knowing the answer.
I already knew Frank would go silent. He stopped in a stunned, scared stupor.
A devilish smirk crossed my lips as I sunk another nickel into the slot. “Yeah, I knew about her before you left me out there, Frank.” I laid a hand against my temple, the sadistic excitement beginning to return. “I just didn’t wanna see it then.”
Frank’s breathing became gasps. His voice was the sound of dread personified.
“Not when I loved you,” I added.
“How’d you know?” Frank finally mustered out.
“I know a lot of things.” The joy began to boil up inside me. I even cracked a smile. “I know what happened to you Frank.”
Again, Frank paused. His discomfort was clear: there was the way the line got more static and the way I could hear my ex’s frantic footsteps pacing about.
“You moved back to Tally,” I went on. Still holding the receiver, I slouched against the glass. “That’s why I’m here now actually.”
“What,” Frank blurted. “Goddammit, Anna.”
“All I wanted’s an apology, Frank,” I said to him. In a quick swipe, I ran a hand across my eyes, making sure there were no tears. “But I can see that’ll never happen.”
“An apology for what!” Frank said. His subsequent laughter was forced and weak… the cry of a defiant man not wanting to admit his obvious defeat. “I only did what anyone’d do!”
Unfazed, I took my time: “I know where you live.”
Frank forced a scoff. “That’s bullshit-”
“Seventy-five Hemmings Street.”
Through the phone alone, I could hear Frank’s fright. I could hear the way his soul sank straight down. “Shit,” he started, the frantic spit off his mouth flying off the line. “What the Hell, Anna, you’re fucking crazy!”
“I already got someone there, Frank,” I said matter-of-factly. I checked my watch: 11:15. “Hell, they’re probably already there by now.” I slid another nickel in… just one.
“What…” Frank stumbled. “Anna, what are you, what are you doing!”
“I hired someone to take you out,” my typewriter cadence continued. “They’re just waiting on my cue.”
“Your cue? What fucking cue!?”
“When I hang up, they’ll know. Then they’ll kill you, Frank.” I grinned again… my biggest one yet. “It’s that simple.”
“Listen,” Frank pleaded, his panic hitting overdrive. “Listen, Anna. You can’t do this!”
Already I could hear more static cutting in. Frank’s quick movements, his quick search for a potential killer killed our phone call’s connection.
“Look, Goddammit, I’m sorry, alright!” Frank went on. “You wanna meet in person! I’ll Goddamn apologize in person!”
“It’s too late, I’m afraid,” I responded. I opened my palm, revealing quite a few more nickels. There was maybe thirty seconds left on the call but I didn’t feel any urgency… Instead, I closed my palm. That time ammo was gone from my sight. “I gave you a chance, Frank.”
“But wait-”
“I gave you plenty of chances actually,” I interrupted, some emotion crashing the detached demeanor I tried to keep.
Frank engaged in a profanity parade… his only defense against the fear. “You don’t know shit! You’re lying, Anna! You’re a Goddamn criminal like me!”
Smirking, I ran the receiver against my head, toying with myself just as much as my ex. My manic enthusiasm had me mesmerized. “It’s the grill, Frank.”
“No!”
“Your spare key. It’s where you left it and where you lost it.”
“You crazy bitch! You fucking-”
“I gave it to them, Frank,” I said. “And when this call’s done, you’re done.”
Frank practically growled. But I wasn’t scared. Now I had control…
Then Frank’s anger dissipated into melancholy. “Anna, please. You don’t understand,” he said.
Scoffing, I leaned in closer toward the mouthpiece. “I don’t understand what?”
“I’ve got a family now!” Frank yelled, the horror shredding up what was a strong Southern accent. “I’ve got a wife and kids, Anna! Billy’s three-years-old!”
“Oh, I know,” was my sharp reply. With a cynical chuckle, I hovered around that mouthpiece while pretending to hover around Frank’s grave. “And they’re done too.”
“Goddammit, Anna!”
Frank’s fear was sweet music to my ears. So much so that I didn’t even wanna hang up… not yet anyway.
“Please, Anna! Come here, let’s talk!” Frank’s sympathy tour continued.
I relished this moment. I really did. “Remember, Frank,” I said. I then pulled the receiver further away from my ear, further distancing myself from my ex-partner-in-crime. “It all happens when I hang up.”
The call’s white noise increased when Frank’s erratic movement went wild. “Anna, don’t!” I heard a door slam shut on his end. “Just stay on the line!”
There was still about ten seconds left on my last nickel. “I have to, Frank,” I told him, not showing any hint of empathy or emotion. “It’s what I have to do.”
“Anna!” Frank kept pleading. “Goddammit, I’m sorry!” I then heard a loud collapse! A bang.
I didn’t wait around to hear the ambush. I hung up right then and there. I hung up the receiver before those hitmen would wipe out Frank’s entire new ‘family’... and well before I could feel any sympathy toward the man who’d nearly killed me two years ago and who’d still attempted to find his way into my heart after such a brutal betrayal.
Now all I had was staunch silence. But my conscience was steady. I felt a comfort, a resolve. Soothed amidst what I was sure was a mass murder, I looked down at those nickels once more. Goddamn, I still had quite the handful.
Amidst the many thoughts I had, none feared for Frank nor his family’s safety. Hell, I’d have done it myself if not for the logistics or obvious motive… If anything, I felt a release from all the wrong he’d done. For once, I was really flying solo. I was a badass crook that was left on her own… and gladly so.
I stepped out from a claustrophobic, stifling phone booth and into the stifling summer night. There was no one to congratulate me in the dark night, no one but my own pride... That is, until the homeless lady approached me once more. With no use for those nickels, I gave her all of them. No more did I need them tonight. Not when I knew Frank Zito was gone for good.
rhonnie14FanPage
submitted by bravesfan14 to DarkTales [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 ItzBlueee If you guys are interested in horror games then make sure to check this one out! Welcome to Linger, a psychological horror game where you are trapped in your apartment for 7 days, each day that passes gets weirder and weirder until it's too late... Enjoy! :)

If you guys are interested in horror games then make sure to check this one out! Welcome to Linger, a psychological horror game where you are trapped in your apartment for 7 days, each day that passes gets weirder and weirder until it's too late... Enjoy! :) submitted by ItzBlueee to GetMoreViewsYT [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 L0kivich The Great Gatsby really blew my mind.

Finished reading TGG sometime back. Finished a few books including "The Kite Runner" and none of em made me emotional like TGG. The prose, writing style, the way Fitzgerald put nameless emotions into words simply got me stupefied. Almost all reviews depicted TKR to be a tear jerker but it didn't even move me while TGG definitely got me choking up, especially the part where Nick looks for Gatsby's acquaintances for the funeral. For sure goes into my top ten reading list!
submitted by L0kivich to books [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 The_2nd_Chicken_Lord How tall is the Teacher?

Im trying to do a cosplay for him but I don’t know his height. Im not sure if it’s specified anywhere so estimates are welcome!
submitted by The_2nd_Chicken_Lord to totsukuninoshoujo [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 wingman_dot_psd The INVADER . Yt video link below

The INVADER . Yt video link below submitted by wingman_dot_psd to bennyproductions [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 morethanaveragejoesc 42m/VA. What do you think?

42m/VA. What do you think? submitted by morethanaveragejoesc to amihot [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 HenryLazerow ALWAYS keep a look in rear view mirror when stopped

Just something to be aware of. ALWAYS have your eyes glancing at rear view mirror when your at a stop. 99% of drivers aren't paying good attention and their cars have lower braking distance then you.
Had a truck going to fast behing me and I had to let my car out 10 feet when I was at a stop for the second time in last few months. It would of totalled the car or caused major damage otherwise. In Chicago we have short red light cameras so you often have to come to a quick stop but this can happen anywhere with so many inattentive drivers.
submitted by HenryLazerow to Corvette [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 inmoon پنج عامل ریسکی ابتلا به سنگ کلیه که باورتان نمی‌شود

submitted by inmoon to Hotzz [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 BlinkReanimated That's got nothing to do with piss.

That's got nothing to do with piss. submitted by BlinkReanimated to IThinkYouShouldLeave [link] [comments]


2022.01.21 13:37 I_Have_The_Lumbago What do I do after Mask of Sorrow?

I got it and went up the elevator and into the courtyard. I got some kinda ball and went back to the Dukes room to put in the mask and use the ball. That's all I've done. Lady D is pretty fucking scary when she's wandering around.
submitted by I_Have_The_Lumbago to ResidentEvilVillage [link] [comments]


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