If you’re up for another long read, this is part 2 of my original DD on WSB. Link here for those interested. WSB has been removing my DDs so here I am.
TLDR; there is no tldr. If you are invested in this topic then read the whole thing and make up your mind about what it means to you as you see fit.

My goals from this DD post -

There are a couple of important relevant points about short interest that I don’t see other recent GME DD’s talking about that I would like to bring to the table for discussion. I prefix their titles with “forgotten point”.
I would like to be objective and only present data while avoiding confirmation bias. If you see me biased, feel free to point it out.
Share what I personally think and plan to do moving forward. This is not advice but only my personal opinion.

Short interest data analysis

Preface -

This analysis was written before the SI official report expected on Feb 9; and is based on data from Ortex.
The reason for the above is because whether official numbers turn up equal or lower to estimates, they don’t really affect the points I bring up here.
For the sake of this discussion, let’s assume that current short interest data is accurate and that the report reflects real short interest.

Alright, let’s start by looking at a couple metrics available from Ortex, utilization and on loan.

https://preview.redd.it/q5dn66bs7rg61.png?width=3475&format=png&auto=webp&s=67a1a43fc24392f9cdd70de79da13700284dc4fe
Here are definitions provided by Ortex for the data in the chart:
UTILIZATION:
The ratio between the number of shares on loan across all outstanding loans in the wholesale market and the number of shares available for lending at lending programs. 0% means that no shares have been borrowed or lent at these lending programs; 100% means that all shares available to borrow or lend at a lending program have, in fact, been lent. This does not represent the number of shares listed on the exchange that have been lent, because not all listed shares our available for lending; it indicates how much of the supply actually available for lending has been lent. Unless otherwise specified, this is given in decimal format.
SHARES ON LOAN
The current number of shares out on loan
Note that “shares on loan” is less than short interest estimate. This is likely due to naked shorting (regardless whether by MM or otherwise). The difference between those values is ~5M shares, suggesting 5M naked shorted shares but that’s a tangent.

Forgotten point 1: Float shrinks as shorts cover

According to the above definitions, we can deduce the total number of loanable shares by taking the “On Loan” value and dividing it by utilization. This value represents the total number of shares available to loan + loaned out shares, which is the total borrowable float. Aka true float shares minus unavailable to short (e.g cash accounts). We can then come up with the following values.
January 25th -> 48.6M shares January 26th -> 44.7M shares January 27th -> 40M shares January 28th -> 30.2M shares January 29th -> 28M share Feb 8th -> 26M shares

Observations

Utilization remained at 100% until January 28th. It started dropping on the 29th, suggesting shorts covering. This means all the borrowable float was borrowed up until January 28th.
The values above are suggesting that the size of the borrowable float has decreased significantly.

Point (2) above means one of two things. Either:

My original hypothesis that the float shrinks as shorts cover is correct. Some covering has occurred, as a result many synthetic longs disappeared.
OR, a significant number of shares suddenly became unavailable to lend (e.g, people moving their accounts from margin to cash).

I think the latter is unlikely because that would mean retail controls ~1.1B dollars (by current price). Therefore I think the former is what happened thus confirming my hypothesis that the float has shrunk.
This is important because of what I mention in the next section. If you remember my previous DD, I hypothesized that the squeeze should become way more violent as more covering occurs.

Forgotten point 2: Absolute short interest vs (short interest / float) ratio as influencer on squeeze

I’m seeing a lot of posts talking about the absolute value of the current short interest (aka total number of shares sold short). What is surprising me is I don’t see anybody talking about the short/float ratio.
See, whenever a VW comparison was brought up, the smart apes would tend to point out that the reason VW squeeze was very powerful was _not_ because of high short interest, in fact short interest was not high for VW like GME, but specifically because of the ratio of (shares sold short / available float to buy).
See, this is basically supply and demand. The higher this ratio is, the higher demand is and the higher a price would rise during a squeeze.
In case of VW, I’ve seen references of that ratio being ~12. To put this into perspective, for each 12 buyers there is 1 seller (assuming both parties are buying and selling 1 stock each for simplicity). Now let’s compare to GME.

Before recent events

If you read my original post, you’ll see the data was suggesting that the short / float ratio was around 2:1 at best, 1.4:1 at worst.
- Although this value was not very high, I speculated that this ratio would increase as shorts start covering because theoretically synthetic longs should start to disappear from the float as they cover in turn reducing the total “real float”.
I calculated the real float as ~30M shares. See my previous post for what I mean by real float.

After recent events

Now let’s take a second look at what the float looks like now after updated short interest estimates. I’ve updated blackrock and fidelity holdings with the values from their latest filings. Note that these values don’t account for retail holdings; and they only account for top 10 institutional holders so in reality the float should be smaller than this by at least a few million shares.

https://preview.redd.it/qhb2dioe8rg61.png?width=1441&format=png&auto=webp&s=afee02e1a4e2d000d21d0738e64af4137e6f0fb4

Observations

According to the data, the current short/true_float ratio is at worst case 2.4:1. This is significantly increased from before squeeze; the worst case was 1:4:1. Realistically this value is probably much higher as indicated by the negative buyable float.
In other words, supply is much more scarce now than before. If shorts cover, demand will become extremely higher than it was before recent events. If a squeeze were to happen, theoretically it may be able to reach higher highs than recent squeeze.
Even if the squeeze were to continue, it would not end until a share offering or a large institution selling a large position because shares are more scarce now.

Speculations from above data

The share price is currently extremely volatile; I speculate this is due to lack of shares to buy. Any interested large buyers can influence share price substantially very quickly.
Due to the lack of share availability, I’m speculating that this was the primary reason trading was halted. Deposit requirements increased to 100% because clearing houses saw the squeeze happening and didn’t feel confident that enough real shares would be delivered and wanted money upfront so they don’t become left bagholding when short positions default.

What I think happened

I don’t know what happened, the data is simply not enough. Anybody who claims to know with certainty are lying. All we have is bits and pieces of data we can use to deduce high probability outcomes.
Regardless whether what happened recently was a squeeze or wasn’t, many of the underlying conditions and hypotheses that can cause a potential stock rise/squeeze still exist; just with a smaller short interest.
The primary factor that changed is short interest. But even if that did truly decrease, it is still very high even if it’s not >100% of float; and it also increased the demand/supply ratio with it substantially. The only difference now is if another squeeze happens, it will likely last a shorter time frame.

Speculations about what happened

Organic demand initially skyrocketed the price. A partial squeeze happened.
Dumb investors/funds that were not prepared got margin called and/or took losses. There were likely new shorts added along the way (e.g at 100 and 200) that got margin called when the price continued rising > 400
Smart investors/funds decide to let others get massacred and instead the squeeze with dated calls. I mean, If I’m a shorter and I’m smart, greedy, and I feel confident that the price would go down why would I cover at a huge loss? I’d rather limit my max losses by buying OTM calls at my maximum loss threshold at a few months out; let the other shorts get massacred in the squeeze then cover later after it cools down. If I’m smart, I would have done this as soon as price passed the $20-$30 price.
Since there are literally no shares I would wait for price to drop substantially before trying to work out a deal with Gamestop or one of the large institutional holders to buy out their shares at a set price. Maybe that’s why Fidelity sold their position? (Perhaps at higher than market price behind closed doors)

What this means going forward

The other shorts eventually need to get out. They can’t get out now due to lack of supply and they’re betting on the company failure.
If the company fails and share price drops, current shorts will wait for share availability, or work out a deal with Gamestop and/or large institutional investors to buy out their shares at a reasonable price.
If the company succeeds and the share price continues rising, the remaining shorts will eventually get squeezed. Since the available shares aren’t enough to cover, I expect either another halt or behind closed door deals to buy out at certain prices.
The time limit for the above is unknown and highly depends on how much the borrow rate is costing the shorters, how the company does in earnings and how the share price behaves from buying demand. If demand keeps growing.
If a squeeze happens in the future, it will likely be shorter in duration due to the decreased short interest. It could happen over 1 day. However price could go up higher due to scarcer supply.

My personal stance and departing thoughts

I entered this position from the start because I like gamestop and I can see them naturally growing into a price >$200 over the next few years. This remains unchanged.
Can another squeeze happen? Absolutely. There are still 20M shares that need to be bought to cover which simply currently aren't available on the market. That's even assuming there are no new shorts.
Are the odds of it happening the same as before? Maybe; however the timeline definitely changed. It may take longer time to happen. If it happens, it will also be shorter lived. If the company succeeds and the share price slowly climbs shorts will eventually cover it's just a question of when.
In other words, this turned into a long term play that could happen over months or 1-2 years.
The above may sound frustrating; especially since it’s no longer inevitable within weeks like it was before when short interest was mind boggling. With that said, I’m still bullish. One underrated aspect not talked about often enough is that there are still large institutional holders that have their positions mostly unchanged even though they are now sitting on >10X profits. These guys are smart and greedy. If they’re not selling now then they see more potential and this is bullish.
I entered this position earlier than many so I’m biased in holding. I didn’t sell a single share on the climb. The recent drop cost me multiple $M. The bright side is if this takes a year then at least I’ll pay significantly less taxes on my gains.
I'm not touching this position anytime soon. GME can make $200 with no squeeze.
I hope this helps.

OBLIGATORY FILLER MATERIAL – Giving thanks edition: Kickin’ around Caracas, Pt. 5

Continuing… (It's Part 6 in the saga, I fucked up. Sorry.)
So, after a few re-fueling and impromptu cigar-purchasing stops in South and Central America, we wheel up to the deserted jetway at LAX.
“Thought we were going to Elmendorf?” I asked.
“This isn’t it?” the pilot replied, feigning worry.
“No.”, I replied, “Looks like California. Fruits and nuts. All around. What’s going on? One minute we’re off to Texas, then Cali, then Texas again, now we end up here at the California airport of the iconic tower.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing enough haulin’ civilians around. But when we get a call from Virginia, we tend to comply without any questions,” the pilot explains.
“Aw, shit!”, I sort of exclaim, “Rack and Ruin called?”
“Yeah”, the pilot replies, “Figures you’d know these guys. They said they were closer to LAX rather than Texas and had us divert here. In fact, you look over there, see that dark blue Chevy? That’s them; and evidently, your ride.”
I tipped the airman from earlier a couple of cigars as he helped me with my gear off the plane and into the trunk of Rack and Ruin’s plain-Jane blue late modeled Chevy. Had to move the Sidewinder Missiles off to one side, though.
“Most honorable Agents Lack and Luin!” I quipped in my faux-racist greeting. “What the hell, guys? I’ve got to get to Japan and get some newly rigidified digits.”
“Let’s see your hand”, Agent Rack asks. “Nasty.”
“Yeah”, I sigh “And with the medicos in South America and their penchant for plaster, I don’t so much have a left hand as more of an ankylosaur tail.”
“Or Thagomizer”, Agent Ruin tittered. “Anyone gives you grief, and one upside the head should set them right. Or dead.”
“You’re a riot, Ruin.” I replied, “But not entirely incorrect.”
We all agreed that I really didn’t need any extra accouterments to make myself look more dangerous. I mean with my severe haircut, stern beard clip, and perpetual ‘Go fuck yourself’ scowl.
“Yeah”, I replied, stroking the aforementioned beard, “I just can’t get that. I’m such a people person.”
After Agents Rack and Ruin finished drying their eyes from laughing what I thought was en extremis, we finally got down to business.
“So, what’s the skinny, guys”, I asked. “New marching orders?”
“No. Not as such”, Agent Ruin said, still sniggering over my ‘people person’ comment.
I see we’re moving. Agent Rack is just driving casually, like Chewbacca when they were waiting to see if the Empire went for that expensive Bothan code.
“Then, what?” I asked, getting a slight bit piqued.
“Well”, Agent Ruin noted, “When you went to South America, you took some of your artillery collection with, correct?”
“You know I did. You even made some snide comments about my personal choice of sidearms and their ‘excessive’ calibers, if memory serves”, I reiterated.
“And if you are proceeding normally, as you always do, they’re all nestled in the trunk of this very car. All cleaned, quiet, unloaded, and smelling sweetly of Hoppe’s Number 9 and WD 40, correct?” Rack inquired.
“Yes?” I cautiously venture.
“Well, ya’ big dummy, do you think they’re going to let you saunter into Tokyo armed like the Third Fleet?” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Um…well…I do have a Diplomatic Passport.” I ventured.
“That’s not going to work this time.”, Agent Ruin said, shaking his head. “They’re tighter than Dick’s Hatband about sidearms. Want to bring in your Rigby SXS .500 Nitro Express double rifle? Not a problem. Sidearms, especially in your alien hunting calibers, nope.”
Well, that’s just….*dandy!”, I reply, semi-put out. “Now what the hell am I going to do?”
“Ever think that’s why Ruin and I are here, now?”, Rack asks.
“And here I thought it was just so you could bask in the warm glow of my fucking wonderful personality. Or that you actually cared about me as a real goddamn human”, I joshed.
“Ummm…yeah”, Rack replies, “There’s no way we can answer that without going on some Deadpool list. “
I agreed.
“OK, here’s the deal: you get your sidearms, ammunition, speed loaders, brass knuckles, Asp, laser range finders, Sap, Zeiss scopes, Kukri, Wisconsin Cheese Whittler, Buck folding skinner, Marine K-Bar, those two ultra-illegal Cheburkov Cobra titanium switchblades...”
“Three. Olga the KGB lady sent me one for Geologist’s Day.”
“Ahem. Those three ultra-illegal Cheburkov switchblades, that Wyoming Speedholer, your MASER Time-Distance Computer, garrote, pocket rail gun and whatever else lethal you carry and deposit it in the iron box in the trunk. We’ll ensure that it’s delivered to Esme post-haste. And by post-haste I mean one of our guys will deliver it personally.”
“Well…I suppose”, I conceded, “But best send someone who’s been to the house recently. I don’t know how much bigger Khan has grown since I left on this little fantasy trip. Wouldn’t want a star on the wall in Langley for someone eaten by a mastiff. Want to see a picture….Oh, bother. That’s right. My phone’s at the bottom of fucking Lake Maracaibo.”
“Good point”, Ruin interjects, “Guess we’ll do a little road trip and deliver it ourselves. Best call Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“I have no objections to your proposals. Please give Esme this when you see her. I had some luck in the Calaveras Casino and if I don’t send her some mad money. Ouch. She’ll never forgive me for not taking her along to Japan.” I asked.
“But I thought Esme hated Japan? Too crowded and too ‘fussy’, I believe was her estimation.” Ruin asked.
“Yes, but once she saw the Ginza, all bets were off. Shopping the likes of which even Allah himself hasn’t seen.” I replied, slowly shaking my head.
“I see”, Ruin said, “Well, since you’re off to Sapporo, perhaps you can do a recon for Esme on the shopping there.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”, I smiled, “Now I know why I let you guys hang around with me.”
So, as advertised, I am now standing on the tarmac at LAX, basically feeling naked.
“Can’t I keep just one switchblade?” I moaned to Agent Rack.
“Go ahead, if you’re really keen on donating it to Japanese customs”, he replied.
“Fuckbuckets.” I groused.
“There, there now. That’s the usual Dr. Rocknocker of which we’re all so fond.” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Remember, you do have that wallet-sized credit card gizmo from the Company. So you’re not entirely ‘naked’. Think of it as an emergency breechcloth.” He smiled.
“I’d like a larger model if you don’t mind. It’s chilly out here.” I joshed.
After Agents Rack and Ruin stripped me metaphorically naked as they de-weaponized me, they handed me a Business Class ticket to Tokyo, and a pass to the Japan Airlines Hospitality Suite and Lounge.
“So sorry you guys can’t hang around and have a few farewell snorts”, I chided, “But you’ve got a bit of a drive, so best be off before the weather turns to shit.”
“Who says we’re driving?” Agent Rack asked as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the ready and waiting C-130 cargo plane currently taxiing slowly in our direction.
“Well, in that case”, I smiled even more broadly, “Let’s invite the flight crew to join us. That’ll make the flight home all that much more interesting.”
After near tear-jerking farewell sentimentalities, i.e., “Piss on you”, “Get stuffed” and “Take a fuckin’ hike”; Agents Rack and Ruin, my weapons and the Agency’s plain-Jane Blue Chevy were all nestled snugger than buggers in ruggers in the belly of the thundering C-130.
Now truly on my own, I trudge the hundred thousand or so centisteps to my departure terminal, make a quick recon that my flight’s still slated to go in a generally westward direction, and hightail it to the nearest courtesy desk to ask for a motorized cart to take me and my remaining luggage to the JAL Hospitality Suite.
Hey. I’m old, infirm, and currently among the walking wounded.
Anyone that disagrees risks an Ankylosaur tail club swat or Thagomizer to the skull.
Finally ensconced in the JAL Hospitality Suite, Polo Lounge of course; I was drinking Tokyo Teas (3 oz. vodka, 2 oz. gin, 2 oz. rum, 1 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. Midori, good splash of lime juice, a slight splash of 7-Up (diet, of course), over ice with a lime wheel) with Pabst Blue Ribbon Extra 1844 chasers and Hangar One’s “Fog Point” vodka on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of two thousand and twenty-something, Common Era…
I’ve already called Esme and we’ve had a good, long chat. She still managed to give me her shopping list for whenever I find myself bored on the Ginza.
She’ll be shocked when she learns that I’m not going to be in Tokyo long, but have 1st class tickets on the Bullet Train to Sapporo. Still, I’ll probably find myself in Pole Town or the Stellar Place there, trading piles of US greenbacks for locally produced Japanese curios and clothing.
I can hardly wait.
I order another round of drinks, as the wonderful attendants in the Hospitality Suite were bored out of their skulls because of the COVID-induced drop-in customers flying anywhere that requires a hospitality room stay, and I was virtually the only one around. They tried their level best to outdo each other when it comes to Japanese efficiency and friendliness.
After a couple of hours, they ask if I would like something from the grill, as the day chef had “the COVID” and the night chef just arrived. A quick perusal of the menu and I chose a 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse and another round of drinks.
I usually don’t like to eat too much before I fly, but JAL tells me the flight is going to be virtually empty, something like <121 pax, all told, so restroom availability shouldn’t be too much of a concern.
Plus, who am I to say no to a free, blue 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse?
There was a bit of difficulty conveying to the chef through the intermediaries of the hospitality just how I wanted my steak.
“Blue,” I said.
“Brue?” was the reply.
“Rare. Very, very rare.” I continued.
Look of total bewilderment.
I drag out my Personal Language Pro, speak “Steak, very, very rate” into the infernal gizmo, and hand the contraption to the attendant.
“珍しい、非常に珍しいステーキ?”[ Mezurashī, hijō ni mezurashī sutēki?]
“Raw! Nama!” I say, louder than need be.
They toddle off to find the chef.
“How is it sir, that you would like your steak cooked?” he asks.
“Very rare. Just a minute or two per side. Inside still cold.” I instructed.
All I got for the trouble was a puzzled smile.
“Give me the language gizmo…” I type in a few words…
“お尻を洗い、角をノックオフして、ここから出してください”
[O shiri o arai,-kaku o nokkuofu shite, koko kara dashite kudasai.]
“Wash its ass, knock its horns off, and walk it out here.”
“OH!” as the lightbulb pops. “Rare. Got it! Excellent!” the chef laughs and zips back to the kitchen.
Like I always say, I’m nothing if not the international ambassador of amity and goodwill.
“Crack tubes!”
Dinner was fantastic. I do wish I could have somehow mailed the Porterhouse bone back home for Khan. After that hambone incident, he might even taste it.
Finally on the plane, in an almost empty Business Class, the flight captain informs us that we’re headed to Haneda Airport Tokyo and anyone not headed in that direction better ‘haul ass off’ the flight or forever hold their peace.
Late-night international flights tend to be a bit more wooly than your average Chicago to Omaha gig.
Especially when the flight’s damn near empty and we have the next 12 hours or so to be best friends.
We taxi, turn and head into the wind. I’m doctoring up a couple of dossiers and keeping my personal cabin attendant, Luna since there were two of us in Business and two business flight attendants, busy with her trying to play ‘Stump the Geologist’.
“I’ll bet you never had this before.” She beamed and handed me a tumbler of very dangerous-looking brown liquor.
I cautiously sniff, take a modest gulp, swirl and glug the rest down.
“Ohishi Single Sherry Cask”, I say with a muffled belch. “Light. Fruity. An Englishman’s drink.”
“Oh. You knew. Let me try again.” She smiles beatifically.
“I have no objections to your proposal.” I smile as nicely as this crotchety old Komodo Dragon could.
She returns with another flagon of spirits; it smells of obsidian, leather, and earth.
I just had some of this back in LAX. I take a snort, smile, and shotgun the rest.
“Hibiki Japanese Harmony…lovely stuff.” I smile. “A little light for my jaded palate, but I’d never turn it down if it were free.”
“Oh, you win again. Wait. One more.” She smiles and skitters off to the galley.
She returns with another soupçon of some more dangerous brown liquor.
“Here, try this. It will make you very popular at social gatherings”. She smiles.
Sniff. “Splendid.” Snort. Swirl. Smile. Shotgun.
“Kanosuke New Born, if I’m not mistaken.” I smile back. “Very nice. I really do like this one.”
“You too good at this. One more!” she stands and stomps off defiantly. She returns in a trice and hands me the glass.
“Hmm…brown. Light notes of earth, leather, dating your daughter, and Kentucky…
“Beam Suntory, right?”
“You know them all!” she says, feigning irritation.
“And I thank you. Those were all excellent. Now, anything in the dangerous clear liquor category? I asked.
Luna smiled as I palmed off a 20k yen tip.
“Oh, no sir. Wait until we land.” She demurred, referring to the gratuity; which is know is not de rigueur in the Orient, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Just in case we never make it to Tokyo”, I laughed, unknowingly presciently.
We both chuckled about that last line as she tried out various sakes and shōchūs and an actual Japanese ‘White Liquor’ (ホワイトリカー), which were all excellent as was the company.
I tell her that I need to get some work done and could she bring me a tall Rocknocker. After explain the origins and construction of the eponymous drink, she brings me one that must tip the scales at 1 or so liters.
She settles down to an empty seat and I get after the work that I need to finish before we land. I’m about ½ way through my drink when it felt as if the plane hit a brick wall. She quivered and quaked and clutched at herself while I made some comments about the pilot’s mental health.
We dropped like a paralyzed falcon, then just as suddenly, felt like it was an express elevator to Angel’s 11. The plane bucked and shimmied, wickedly. Then we slam-danced right and fell a few more stories. It was like we were in a Mixmaster and the owner was trying out every speed.
The emergency lights in the 777-300ER popped on, and the fasten seat belt sign barked loudly so even sleeping travelers could enjoy the show.
Rinse. Spin. Shudder. Repeat.
Finally, the ride smooths out and we hear the captain on the blower.
“This is your captain speaking…ah, we seem to have hit some uncharted turbulence back there.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious”, I muttered.
“Everything’s A-OK. “ he reports.
“That’s good”, I note.
“But…”
“There’s always the but…” I groan.
“…we have a couple of warning lights for which we can’t quite account. So to just be safe and certain, we’re going to divert to Hawaii, get a clean bill of health and resume this flight once we make sure everything here is hunky-dory.”
There were scattered groans and applause. Add them together and divide by two and the average response on the flight was “Meh. Whatever.”
Except for the other guy in Business, with whom I hadn’t shared two words. He began to absolutely lose his shit.
“Oh, man! We’re so screwed! Mechanical malfunction? What does that mean?” he positively fizzed with fear.
The flight attendants tried to calm him down, to no avail. They basically gave up and said they’d report his misgivings to the Captain.
I motioned over to my personal flight attendant, Luna, and asked if I could be of service.
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled at me, “If you could speak with him. You are so calm, and he is…”
“Losing his bloody mind”, I chuckled as I finished her sentence for her. “Of course, I’ll take a stab at it.”
So, I grab my drink and ease over to my Business Class partner and introduce myself.
“Hey, pal. How’s it going? I’m Dr. Rock, gentleman, scholar, and connoisseur of cigars and things alcoholic. You doing OK?”
He looks at me with an ashen face and his eyes the size of bloodshot dinner plates.
“Yeah. I’m Todd Schotts. I’m flying to Japan for business.” He mumbles
“No surprise there,” I reply calmly and take a slug of my drink.
“But now we’re all going to die. The plane is busted and we’ll crash…” he started off again.
“So, Todd is it? Good. You drink?” I asked.
“Yeah?”, he stammered back.
I asked Luna to make us a fresh batch of my eponymous cocktails.
“OK, Todd, listen up”, I began after the drinks were served, “I have flown literally millions of miles over the last 4 decades. On Aeroflot when it was still the USSR. On TACA (Take A Chance Airways), on Chalk’s in the Caribbean, on Bob’s Verrifast Plane Company in Rhodesia, on regional carriers that don’t even exist anymore. All over the world. Had some bad experiences flying, and me ol’ mugger, this ain’t one of them. This is nothing more than the glitch for this mission.”
I chuckled lightly and complimented Luna on a fantastic drink.
“Yeah…yeah…yeah…but we have to land and check out some lights…” Todd squealed.
“Well now, Todd. It would be rather difficult to do any external assessment while in flight, don’t you agree?” I asked.
“But we’re diverting. We have to land and that adds more risk. We’re going to crash and die!” he was coming more and more unglued.
“I will bet you every cent you have on your person and home bank accounts that that will not happen”, I chuckled.
That took him by surprise. At least it shut him up for a while.
“Look, Todd. This is Boeing’s latest model. They have the most incredible safety record. And if a little clear air turbulence were to be knocking planes out of the sky, don’t you think we’d hear about it as the press went berserk?” I asked.
“But they don’t know what the lights mean! What if one of the engines’s out? How far can we fly on one engine?” Todd stuttered.
Having my fill of a supposedly grown man with inane childlike fears, I calmly replied,
“All the way to the crash site.”
He went white.
“...hope we hit something hard. I don’t want to limp away from this.”
He went limp.
Then I went to my seat and motioned for Luna to prepare a reload.
Of course, 45 minutes later, we land without incident at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Honolulu Hawaii.
We were told to just wait around until they figure out what the problem if any, was.
They had officials waiting at the end of the jetway to check our COVID status and passports before they let us loose in the terminal.
I asked Luna if she knew this airport. She noted that she did.
“Is there a JAL hospitality room here at this airport? I asked.
“Yes, Doctor. It’s the Sakura Lounge. It is located on the third level above The Local, Terminal 2.” She replied.
“Please notify whoever needs to know that that’s where I’ll be for the duration”, I smiled and handed her my business card. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Oh, Dr. Rock”, she replied, “I am sure it is nothing much. We’ll be back in the air within mere hours.”
“Well then”, I smiled, “Guess I’d better get ready to hoof it to the lounge.”
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled, “No rush. I will call for you a courtesy cart. You are injured, you are Business, you are priority.”
“I love that Asian efficiency.” I smiled back and toddled down the jetway.
At the terminus of the jetway, I show my COVID-clear papers, dates and times of my Anti-Virus vaccine administrations, the letter from Virginia clearing me of all detention, and my red Russian diplomatic passport.
While in the cart, whizzing our way to the JAL lounge, the driver said “Man! You must be some kind of VIP. You were through that welcoming committee in less than two minutes!”
“Me? Nah!”, I chuckled, “Just an old phart of a geologist that they didn’t want to mess with. Not on such a bright, sunny day as this.”
“I see you’re not wearing a mask.” The driver quipped.
“Very observant. There are reasons for that.” I replied.
He careens around a corner and if this were a normal pre-Covid day, I’m certain we’d have killed hundreds. However, the airport, as I’ve come to grow accustomed to, was virtually deserted.
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks.
“Well, Scooter, 1. I have an active and hardworking immune system that I let off the chain every once in a while for exercise. Got to let it know what it’s up against, right? 2. I’ve had all my shots and some that were experimental. They seem to have worked. And 3. I find it difficult to drink and smoke cigars while wearing a mask. However, if you’d prefer, I will mask up. No problem, though it still is optional.”
“Nah, man”, he said, “I was just wondering if you were one of those religious idiots or conspiracy nuts.”
Nope”, I smiled back, “Just another geologist out in the world plying his trade for cash. Y’know, whorin’ around for money.”
He laughs aloud as we skid to a stop right in front of Lounge.
I slip the guy a $20 and ask if he’d listen for the JAL flight I was just on. If we’re going on ahead today, I’d need him to scoot by and putt-putt me back to the plane.
He laughs and pockets the $20 as quick as a mink ruts.
“No worries. I’ll just hang around this area. I hear anything about the flight, I’ll come and let you know.” He grins.
“Good man”, I say, as I hand him my card. “I’m Dr. Rocknocker. Call me Rock”.
“And I’m Kapula Mano, call me Kap” he replies.
“Good man”, I say again, “Hope to see you in a while.”
He grins, floors his electric cart, and peels out at speeds approaching 4.5 MPH.
I wander into the lounge, show my credentials, and am escorted to a post up on Mahogany Ridge.
The bar is very quiet. Besides the bartender, I can’t see anyone else in the darkened and Smooth Jazz-infused drinking emporium.
I order a local drink, a Mai Tai, just for the experience and something a bit different.
It’s served in a goldfish bowl on a stem, bedecked with a slice of lime, a sprig of mint, a stick of sugar cane, a polychromatic orchid, and the obligate paper umbrella.
“Ah. Mai Tai. I will enjoy it.” I said to no one in particular.
One was enough, and I decided to go back to the old standard. Once I explained to the bartender what that was, he made them heroic and enthusiastically.
I’m reading up on a random dossier, making notes in a new file, and puffing away on a Fuentes Onyx double Maduro Churchill cigar.
I hear a slight cough coming from my right, and this here lovely lady, she sat to my immediate starboard and looked at me semi-quizzically.
Not in the mood for shenanigans of any stripe, I give her the obligate Baja Canada nod and tilt of the drink. I return to my dossiers and continue to read and take notes.
“Excuse me!” I hear.
Fearing the worst, either the woman is Karen-oid anti-smoking or a religious fruit-and-nutburger, I slowly turn to face her and reply, somewhat glacially, I have to admit.
“What?”
“That cigar…”
“Here we go…” I mutter, eyes rolling northward.
“Smells exquisite. Could you tell me the brand? My husband would enjoy some like that.” She notes.
Instantly my demeanor switches 180^0.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an Arturo Fuentes Onyx. Churchill size, or 60 ring x 7” length, double Maduro. Here, take one for your husband. I have an ample supply.” I smile.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Could I?” she asks.
“Please. I insist.” I smile the best I could given the circumstances.
“Thank you. You’re too kind…umm…Mr….?”
“Doctor. Doctor Rocknocker. World traveler, oilman, and international ambassador of amity, good drinks, and fine cigars. Call me Rock” I said.
“Oh! A Doctor?” she brightens.
“Yes, of Petroleum Geology and Engineering. Not medicine.” I chuckle.
She chuckles back.
“And I am Hella Aaberg”, as she offers her hand for a quick shake.
“Interesting name, Hella. Scandinavian or Old German heritage?” I ask.
“On my father’s side. He’s Finnish.” She replies.
“But I’ll wager your mother is not Scandinavian, correct?” I ask.
“She was from Truk, an island…”
“In the South Pacific, Micronesia. Was she from Weno city?” I asked.
“Why yes. How could you possibly know that?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been there. Great diving amongst the WWII wrecks. I think it’s actually called ‘Chuuk Lagoon’ or something like that now.” I said.
“That’s right! Amazing. Where else have you been?” she asked.
“Anywhere there’s oil, strife, booze, cigars, heavy explosives and typically long distances from whatever most normal people call civilization,” I replied with a chuckle.
Suddenly, I hear a voice booming out behind me.
“Why don’t you save that rapier-like wit for those musky-fuckers back home, Rocko?”
My expression changes. My eyes pop fully wide open.
“Hella?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…”
“Thank you. Now, looking over my shoulder, is there a hulking goon of a person, thin up top, paunchy halfway down with the most ridiculously tiny sized shoes you’ve ever seen for a so-called grown man?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, there is.” She replies.
“I thought so. Many thanks.”
I spin and launch off my barstool and grab Toivo by the hand. He hadn’t seen my left-hand Thagomizer yet.
“Toivo! You old sumbitch. What the flying fennec fox fuck are you, of all people, doing in Hawaii?” I laughed.
“Just keeping an eye on you, Rock!” he laughed equally as loud.
“No, fucking-A, seriously. What the actual fuck? What are you doing in this actual nice place?” I asked.
“Just headed to Tokyo to conduct a bit of service company business. I walked into the lounge and smelled a foul cigar. I figured it can’t be the venerable Dr. Rocknocker. He’s back at some school up north terrorizing geology and engineering grads and undergrads.” Toivo laughed.
“But there I was. Surprise!”, I laughed and pumped his hand.
“What the fuck, Rock. Now what did you do?” he asks, referring to my Ankylosaur tail club left hand.
“Ah, fuck. Long story. Oh, pardon me. Toivo, this is Hella. We were just talking about the South Seas Islands.” I said.
“Planning on running off together?” Toivo laughs, to the amusement of neither party.
“Oh, and this idiot is Toivo, a man with a congenital foot-in-mouth disorder. He’s mostly harmless.” I noted to Hella.
Greetings were shared all around. Hella made some small excuses and said she needed to depart. I gave her another cigar for her husband, shook her hand, and wished her well.
“Here’s my business card. If your husband has any questions, have him drop me a line.” I noted.
Hella smiled beautifully. She said she would. Then she thanked me shook our hands, and like that, there she was, gone.
“Well Toivo, you old bastard. Don't just stand there in the doorway like some lonesome goddamn mouse shit sheepherder, get your ass over here and have a drink.” I motioned over to my perch on Mahogany Ridge.
“Don’t mind if I do”, he says as he deftly winds his way to a seat to my left, snagging a cigar out of my pocket on the way over.
“You might want these”, I say in an exasperated tone, and hand him my gold Dunhill Hobnail lighter and V-cutter gizmo.
He cuts and fires up his heater.
“What you drinkin’, Rock”, he asks.
“Anything with alcohol, as usual. You know that Toiv.” I reply.
“No. I mean right now.” He clarifies.
“Well, I had a Mai Tai. Very nice if you like fruity, flowery drinks. It’s the locals’ favorite.” I reply.
“Sounds good. I’ll have several. And you?” Toivo asks.
“My usual. The bartender is already apprised of the situation.” I reply.
Toivo smiles the smile of one knowing his sobriety is going to be taken out for a swim. Hell, taken out and tossed into the deep end.
Toivo and I sit there, swapping lies, smoking cigars and sipping at our toddies.
Hell, Toivo was slurping them like a sump-pump during an extra-wet summer.
We chattered about family, work, whether or not Tokyo was going to host the Olympics or if the COVID-boogie man scared everyone off.
Toivo, always one afflicted with TB (“Tiny Bladder”) got up to go to the loo for the third time that hour. He left his pocket organizer on the bar and I swear on a stack of Origins of Species, I didn’t touch it.
I reached over to his vacated seat to retrieve my cigar lighter when I looked down and saw in his organizer a tab that reads “Rack & Ruin”.
“Oh. No. Fucking. Way.” I recoiled as I’d just reached out and petted a 6-foot hungover scorpion.
“One of my best friends? Secretly allied with the Agency? No. Not possible.” I drained my drink and called for another.
“No. No. No. It can’t be. No. No fucking way…” as doubt began to dissolve when I thought back to all those times I had just ‘run into’ Toivo.
“But he’s oil patch as well. That could be chalked up to coincidence.” I ruminated quizzically in my brain.
I quickly reflected back on J.M. Darhower: “Yes, you see, there’s no such thing as coincidence. There are no accidents in life. Everything that happens is the result of a calculated move that leads us to where we are.”
She may be the author of the execrable New Adult Sempre series, which Esme likes and I loathe, but she might just be right on this occasion.
Toivo return, lighter in the bladder and good sense. He never even noticed he’d left his organizer out in broad bar light for all to see.
“So, Toivo, when’s your flight?” I ask.
“Oh, man. Was I lucky. The JAL flight to Tokyo from Los Angeles had mechanical trouble and had to divert here. I got a ticket on the plane for that flight, when it continues.
“You mean ‘if it continues’,” I replied.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I meant. Hey! Was that your flight?” he asks innocently. He’s really innocent of fieldcraft.
I decide to have some fun at my old friend’s expense.
“Yep. Hit some CAT (Clear Air Turbulence) and the JAL pilots reported some lighting problem. No apparent ruin to any of the systems. They relay racked their brains to figure it out, but they couldn’t that’s why I here.” I said, waiting for the words to swim upstream in Toivo’s coconut and make some sort of connection.
“Yeah. Double lucky. No problem with the plane and I get to go to Japan early.” Toivo crookedly grins.
“So, no trouble with the plane? Then why haven’t I heard that the flight’s going to resume?” I asked as I pushed a fresh, seriously strong drink to Toivo.
“Oh, must have heard it in the john.” Toivo countered and tried to cover his tracks by taking a huge gulp of his drink and damn near dying coughing.
I pound on Toivo’s back.
“Heimlich time?” I ask.
Toivo signals ‘no’.
“Jesus Christ, Rock. What was that?” he asks.
“Just my usual”, I innocently replied.
“Holy fuck. No wonder you have the reputation of…” Toivo realizes too late that he’s said too much.
“Yeah. They can rack you out. Really ruin a person if they’re not careful.” I reply icily.
“Why, Rock. Whatever do you mean?” Toivo slurred as he realized he’s been caught out.
“The jig is up, you turncoat. You know Agents Rack and Ruin from the agency. Right? You keeping tabs on me for them? You Quisling! You Benedict Arnold!” I almost was on the verge of losing my cool.
“It was nothing. They approached me years ago as I kept being mentioned in your reports. They asked me for some information. One thing leads to another…” Toivo was ready for an Ankylosaur tail club swat to the bean.
“Oh, put your fucking hands down, you asshole.” I smiled and chuckled.
“You’re not mad?” Toivo slurred badly. I had the bartender make him another special drink.
“No, Toivo. Not mad. Just disappointed.” I said, smiling like a Komodo Dragon just finishing up a fortnight-old wildebeest.
Toivo sat there and puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore.
“You’re not going to kill me or anything rude like that?” Toivo asked, half-assedly trying to inject humor into the proceedings.
“Nah. The paperwork’s too ridiculous for me to do another liberation. But, Jesus Fucking Christwagons, Toivo; you could have mentioned it to me. Fuck, I thought we were friends to the end?” I said, dejectedly.
I was really getting through to Toivo. I could tell he was loaded; feeling like shit and massively deplorable.
Great fieldcraft, indeed.
I told him things “are what they are” and that I won’t blow his cover nor his honorarium.
He began to feel better. I often wonder if he was serious about the sanctioning thing.
Then I delivered the strategic missile strike.
“Just remember, Toivo. I wrote your dossier for the Company…”
He swivels to look at me.
“And one for the KGB. Olga says ‘howdy’.” I grin evilly.
Toivo short-circuited at that. Russia is his company’s bread and butter. Now he has the KGB as well as his best buddy looking over his shoulder at every move.
I bought him a few more drinks and continued to needle him about his ’leading a double life’. He was well and truly fuckered when the electric tap-tap driver from before came looking for me to whisk me back to the plane.
Seems it was simply some knocked-out wires on the plane, or slammed bulbs that were generating a false positive, indicating something other than the system that alerts one to something haywire went haywire.
Toivo was pretty much down for the count. I got him sober enough to hand them his ticket and ensure that he was really supposed to be on this flight. Thing was; h e was in Economy, and I was, as always, in Business.
I spoke to Luna, and the plane was going to be even less crowded than previously because some folks could or wouldn’t wait, or didn’t want to go on with the rest of the trip on a ‘damaged’ aircraft, or were just stupid and superstitious.
“Luna, could I pay for the difference between Business and Economy for my less than 100% conscious friend here? He’s had a rough day.” I asked.
“Dr. Rock. Just put him into Business. No one will be the wiser. Luna says so.” As she gave us a grand smile.
“Luna, I owe you. Thanks so much.” I said.
“Now get on board. Your friend looks like he needs all the downtime he can get.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I said and saluted here be best I could which dragging a schnozzled Toivo down the jetway.
I dumped Toivo in a window seat well away from my seat. I know Toivo. He snores like a semi-load of live hogs rocketing downhill locking up the brakes at 88 MPH.
Surprise! There was no one else in Business. Luna looked at me, at Toivo, and gave me a thumbs up.
Whatever I can write to further her career at JAL, she’ll have it before I deplane.
We finally get everyone settled, and with Captain Kangaroo at the helm, we bounced gracelessly off the tarmac, into the warm, tropical Hawaiian air, finally headed for the Land of the Rising Sun.
Toivo was snoring like a chainsaw hitting rusty nails as I worked on the various letters, communiques, and dossiers which needed updating before we reached touchdown. I gave Luna a thick letter with instructions not to open it until we were on the ground and Toivo and I were well off and away into the terminal.
We left Hawaii at 1300 hours, so we should arrive at Tokyo Nareda around 4:00 pm, the previous day. I was so bereft of time and time zones, I couldn’t figure out what time it really was, as judged by my biometric rhythms, so I asked Luna for a stiff drink as I was kicking off my boots and going to attempt to get some kip.
She brought me another liter or so eponymous drink. I was sawing logs by the time I slurped the last swig of that nifty drink.
Suddenly, or later, I have no idea really, some loudmouth drunk asshole from way-the-fuck-back in economy-land toward the ass end of the plane staggered into Business demanding free drinks.
Luna was nothing but civil, and asked him to both shut up and return to his seat. His air cabin hostess, or whatever the fuck they’re calling them these days, will attend to his needs.
“Naw they won’t! They want me to pay for more drinks! I’m broke but I demand more booze! You fucking owe me.” railed the asshole. “I sat at the bar in Hawaii for four hours. Them fuckers charged me an arm and a leg!”
“No, they don’t owe you shit”, I said in a voice that unmistakably loud and clear.
“Fuck you, old man! You stay the fuck out of this!” he bellowed. “Shut up or I’ll do ya’!”
“’Old man’? ‘Do me’? Excuse me. Luna, may I have a word alone with this individual?” I asked sweetly.
Luna shook her head in the affirmative, and I stood up to confront this flagrant asshole.
“Now look, Scooter. You have gone way, way over the fucking line. You are loud. You are abusive. You are obnoxious. And you stink. Plus you insulted a person who is just barely containing his righteous wrath right now. So, I’m giving you one and one only chance to shut up, sit back down before your body spontaneously develops all sort of bruises, contusions, broken bones, and unconsciousness.” I said calmly, evenly, and threateningly.
“What da’ fuck you think you’re going to do…old man?” he screeched, trying to inflate himself into full mammalian threat posture, all 5’ 9” of it.
He didn’t notice Toivo walking up quietly behind him, as Toivo was returning from the head, quiet as a moose.
“Well, Scooter, I am an Air Marshall. Duly appointed, fully trained, and properly pissed off. Right now, I can arrest you, physically detain you, turn this flight around and take you to the Hawaiian police, at your cost for the inconvenience of the entire flight. Or I could arrest you, physically detain you, and turn you over to the Japanese authorities when we land. It’s really your choice. Choose wisely.”
To be continued…⇝

PSTH Technical Powderkeg Setup (My yolo DD)

Pershing Square Tontine Holdings is the largest special acquisition company to date, created by Bill Ackman, it trades on NYSE, it closed AH at 29.85$. It has 2 years to get a deal done, it IPO'd at 20$ a share, if a deal does not get done, holders of common shares get 20$ a share paid back to them at the end of the 2 years. Which means, the downside risk is limited to 20$ a share no matter what because it is backed by 5 billion dollars.
it IPO'd 21-JUL-2020, it has until 21-JUL-2022 to get a deal done, otherwise holders of common shares get 20$ per share.

Bill was quoted in the fall saying "In terms of timing, what we said at the time of the IPO is we said it would take us, we thought about six months to identify a target that we would be in a position to hopefully announce a deal by sometime in Q1, and then close the transaction in the ordinary course thereafter. Nothing that we have experienced to date, suggests that we won't meet our expect timeframe."
"We had more than 12 billion$ of demand for the offering when we stopped marketing the IPO on the second day of the road show".
"We used the excess demand for the pershing square tontine holdings IPO to curate a shareholder list that would be the envy of any public company. We selected investors for their reputation as long term, value added owners."
list of institutional investors they curated can be found on the nasdaq website. The private company maintains majority interest, and voting rights. They essentially give up nothing, and get a huge cash injection. There are only so many companies on this list that even qualify in terms of size.
If the timing quote is to be believed, it would put the announcement of a LOI (Letter of intent) for a target sometime in Q1, the general consensus expects an announcement sometime between mid jan - mid feb, most likely after the inauguration to avoid trumptards doing something like storming the capitol again and and scaring the market.

merger criteria: https://pstontine.com/acquisition-criteria/

Simple, Predictable, and free-cash-flow-generative
Formidable barriers to entry
Limited exposure to extrinsic factors that we cannot control
Strong balance sheet
Minimal capital markets dependency
Large capitalization
Attractive valuation
Exceptional management and governance

The key takeaway there is, formidable barrier to entry. They are looking for a titan, they are big game hunting.
They have 5 billion in the warchest, and are able to go up to 7 billion

Kevin O'leary is in big on this https://www.benzinga.com/news/20/12/18735011/why-kevin-oleary-is-betting-on-bill-ackmans-pershing-square-tontine-spac
There are rumors that buffet could be a pipe investor, he has a large position hidden that eventually has to be released with a 13f filing, this is all speculation but check out this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=970&v=FhOzaN7uI_s&feature=youtu.be "What I can tell you is, we met a very diverse base of investors, we got one of the largest orders through one of the firms, for a great, long only, very well regarded asset manager"

This is all speculation, but it still sounds spicy.
There have been a lot of special acquisition company's lately that have done really well, Chamath has had some incredibly profitable IPOs, but check out this chart for QS https://finance.yahoo.com/quote/QS/ They 13 bagged, and they are just some shitty EV battery play....
Now here is where things get SPICY!!!!!!!!!!! Two parts, Part 1: The Tontine structure (last man standing gets everything), and
part 2: upward pressure through incentives, the atom bomb of technical plays.
Part 1: Here is the prospectus https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgadata/1811882/000119312520175042/d930055ds1.htm
For everyone who owns a common share , after merger they receive 2/9ths of a warrant, so 2 warrants at 23$ strike for every 9 shares. This is where things get absolutely fucked though.....
The prospectus on page 5 states : "We believe our ability to complete our initial business combination will be enhanced by how we have structured this offering.
First, our distributable Tontine redeemable warrants provide our public stockholders with an incentive not to redeem their shares of Class A common stock in connection with our initial business combination. We will issue a fixed pool of 33,333,333 distributable Tontine redeemable warrants (assuming no exercise of the underwriters’ over-allotment option); holders who choose to redeem their shares will lose the right to receive any such warrants. Public stockholders who choose not to redeem their shares of Class A common stock will share in this fixed pool with other non-redeeming holders (on a pro-rata basis), and will receive the additional warrants that were effectively surrendered by redeeming holders. As a result, public stockholders who do not redeem their shares will receive at least two-ninths of a distributable Tontine redeemable warrant per share they hold, and a proportionally greater amount as other holders elect to redeem. We believe this structure will likely lead to a lower level of redemptions, and therefore, we will likely have more funds available for our initial business combination."
This means, if you sell your shares between the LOI (Letter of intent, the company they are merging with), and the actual merger, you FORFEIT your 2/9ths of a warrant per share, and the shares forfeited get added to a pool, and get given to those that held during this period. The MINIMUM is set at 2 warrants for every 9 shares, but it will be higher than that based on how many people sell shares during the tontine period before the merger date.
PART 2: The potential spicy atom bomb....
Roughly 70% is held by instutitional investors, that are locked in. With 200 million shares, that leaves roughly 60 million shares in the float for plebs like us.
Of those 60 million shares, a large group are going to want to hold through until merger to redeem their warrants at 23$, the HIGHER the SP goes, the MORE those warrants are worth, which INCREASES their resolve to hold so they can cash in. People will be selling shares in this time period, and ADDING to the total warrant pool, making people want to hold even more.
This reduces the float dramatically. The crazier it gets, the more people will be forced to hold for the warrants. The MORE people sell, the MORE warrants people that hold will get to collect, it could end up being 4/9ths or even higher. Making them want to hold EVEN MORE. The longer they hold out, the more warrants they get from people who forfeited by selling shares in this time period....
If it ends up being a sexy target, like stripe, bloomberg, starlink, anything that generates hype, everyone and their moms, their dogs, and the mailman will want in.... Except.... There could be as little as 20 million shares even available for trading, on a mega hype stock. If this happens, fundamental be damned, and it could be a technical wet dream.
Tilray (A canadian pot company) had a technical stratosphere run in 2018, it IPO'd at roughly 20$ a share, and hit 300 USD. There were only 17 million shares in the float, the higher it went the more people piled in, and it was pure insanity. https://www.investopedia.com/investing/tilray-shares-halted-5-times-wild-trading-day/ "On Wednesday, Tilray's stock gapped up sharply to open at $233.58 a share from Tuesday's $154.98 close. The stock hit an intraday peak at precisely $300 a share late in the trading day"
Risks:

Bill doesn't get a deal done
The stock collapses, and hits a hard limit of 20$ a share (about 30% loss from today's stock price).

There are risks with everything, but the set up based on the tontine structure alone could end up being one of the craziest technical plays of 2021 based on the limited float alone, AND the incentive to hold until merger with the tontine structure, this setup has never been done before in a SPAC, and this is THE LARGEST SPAC TO DATE.
Current position: 59 calls, december 2021 expiry, 35$ strike.
Edit: Formatting
2nd edit: I interpreted the prospectus incorrectly, shoutout to u/eddiepaperhands for clarifying.
“We will provide the holders of the shares of Class A common stock issued in this offering (whom we refer to as our “public stockholders”) with the opportunity to have all or a portion of such shares of Class A common stock redeemed upon the completion of our initial business combination at a per-share price, payable in cash, equal to the aggregate amount then on deposit in the trust account described below as of five business days prior to the consummation of our initial business combination, including interest earned on the funds held in the trust account and not previously released to us to pay our taxes, divided by the number of then outstanding shares of Class A common stock that were sold as part of the units in this offering, subject to the limitations described herein.”
Still bullish AF though :)

Stories from 12 years of Casino Industry

I was asked to make a post about some stories within the Casino grounds so I thought I'd share. I have many so I'll do my best to pick the better ones.
Some back information: I've been a Casino Dealer for 11 years, I've been a supervisor for five years, and I've been a Surveillance Operator for one year. I've worked at three properties, none of which are connected or owned by the same company. I've worked on : Government/Private/Native American owned casinos.

From Hero to Zero.

At my first Casino, I was one of the first group of people who were trained to deal Roulette . After 4 weeks of working 6PM-3AM then doing roulette training from 3AM-8AM (Not paid) , I actually really enjoyed the game and after about six months I became extremely quick at the number game and the pace of the action was steady with very low margin of errors. Young man walks in, cashes in for $500. He buys in for $2 chips and just loads the board. After a few spins and pretty decent hits, he then changes his chips from $2 to 5$ then to $10 and racks his winnings up to $10,000. It was then, five spins in a row, he loaded the board with some pretty gross bets, and every spin I would hit the ONE number with either NO CHIPS on it, or maybe 1 chip , He lost all $10,000 in a matter of minutes. He leaves , and I go on break. After my break I was going back to the same table and wouldn't you know it, the same young man walks in and cashes in another $500. He tells me he just sold his car outside and this is all that he had left. So we do the same deal, buys in for $2 chips, then slowly starts betting $5 chips, $10, $25...and he makes $10,000 AGAIN. Within the next 25 minutes it was straight agony. Every spin, same thing, he would bet $2500 in chips, and win only $250, $400, and after about a half hour he lost it all . Never saw the guy again.
2) Man down
At this property, we are 24 hours for table games. It's currently 5AM , and I'm dealing some $25 Blackjack to this guy. He's probably early thirties , heavy guy. He's sober as can be, but right away I can tell he's been losing. We know how much you've bought in for, how much your down, or up, and I could see he was down $2000+. After about twenty minutes of pure losing, his temper starts to flare.At this point I now have two other guests at my table. Drinking coffee, not saying a word, just losing their money. After losing hand, after hand, this guy looks me straight in the eye, seized up, starts shaking, he can't move. He tries to punch towards me and smashes his stack of chips all over the place and falls backwards to the floor. I call for security, we cannot touch him due to liability . I can't move from my table because, well, liability / casino cash property, all I can do is try to talk to him. As I'm doing so, these other two woman who are sitting at my table just look at me and one says "OK, dealer, cmon lets go " as she taps the table telling me to start dealing and forget about the guy having a stroke on the floor. As security takes him to the ambulance out front, I had to stay behind for a couple minutes and give a statement. I go on break. I come back, and 45 minutes later, he comes right back in with a oxygen tank and keeps gambling for the remainder of the morning.
3) You get a dildo, and YOU get a dildo!
On a late summer Saturday night, we had a large event for these massive muscle guys/strongman competition type thing. After their show, I'm at the roulette table , and five of these boys come over to play. They were absolutely hilarious. They were feeling pretty good, cashed in somewhat large amounts and I could tell this was going to be a fun time. After about a hour of dealing to these guys, it's almost midnight, everybody is pretty hammered , I spin the ball, and all five of these guys take out these god damn (what I can only tell was) two feet purple dildos from inside their pants, and wiping them around in the air. The ladies were just loving it, one of the dildos landed in the roulette wheel and we had to shut the table down to re-calibrate the wheel to make sure nothing had been changed. I just remember that night was so much damn fun, I couldn't believe what I was seeing and I would never forget it.
4) Full Moon
On this day, I was actually training dealers / supervising them on small games like Three Card poker. We opened the table at 10AM, and this older man came and sat down . He played all day. The jackpot was $21,000 and that was pretty high for this table. He played, and played and played. He's one of the players where you know he's wearing a diaper because he's been drinking coffee/pop all day and hasn't moved in eight hours. As the day went on, this man never moved from his chair. Getting closer to midnight, he was aggravated and said "I need to go have a smoke, I'm getting killed in here". He left, and the very next hand, the lady beside him was dealt the jackpot . He didn't say much, but you could just tell he just hated life at that very moment because had he not gotten up, it would of been his hand. The man calmly took his cane , his hat, jacket, coffee, and left. The next morning I found out when he did leave he drove his car straight through his bank and was arrested.
5) Slick Robber
I actually give props to people who can actually pull this off. This story may confuse you so I'll try and explain things as best as possible. A lot of casinos have machines as soon as you walk through the front doors. A man walks up to one of these machines and sticks in HIS $100 bill. He doesn't gamble it, instead he hits the cash out button and gets a $100 TITO ticket where he then takes the ticket to the ATM machine to get his $100. Now remember, his Original $100 is in the slot machine. He then takes the $100 from the ATM and goes back to the same machine, and repeats this process over a hundred times. Essentially he's taking money from the ATM, and loading up the Slot Machine . Now he knows he can't do it too much because if the slot machine gets full of money, the machine will shut down and the slow attendant will have to take all the cash out. So he deposits over $10,000 , then has a small crowbar, he cracks the machine open and makes a run out the front door. To my knowledge he was never caught . But damn, that was pretty smart .
EDIT:
6) Mental Health is a thing.
10PM man walks in to play some high limit BlackJack. This guy knows the game and played well. Dressed nice, drank juice/tea , a little bit of a attitude, cashed in over $10,000. When this man was half way down his buy in, he said something a long the lines of "If I don't win here tonight, I'm going to go set myself on fire." I wasn't sure if he was serious because when people are down, they tend to say a lot of nonsense. I actually left early that night, and from a third party was told he did exactly that in the parking lot. The next day it was clear something terrible had gone wrong in the parking lot .
EDIT:
7) Nothing good happens after midnight
After a busy Saturday night, I was dealing a mix of games, and during this story I was in the middle of Blackjack. I had one young kid (probably 19) sitting in the middle, one older male probably in his later 40's sitting beside him on his right, and I had a really nice couple in their 20's sitting together at the other side. This young kid wasn't playing just sort of watching, and ever time the old man won he would give this young guy some of his winnings. The older man, was a wine drinker, and he had black between all of his teeth, I'll never forget. He's a little drunk but nothing terrible. As the night goes on, the older man goes and uses the washroom, at which point the couple asked the young guy "Oh was that your dad?" and the young guy says "Hah, no I wish!". The couple and I just looked at each other. This old guy, was in complete control over this kid. Absolutely disgusting. The night ends, and I find out the couple called a few of their friends, and they all waited outside by this old mans truck and beat the living hell out of him. 40 years old, sleeping with a 19 year old, completely brain washed . Very weird.
8) That one co-worker where you just wish they would quit.
One of our co-workers, nice guy but had a very big ego and we as employees just sorta left him alone. One day he had enough of the atmosphere and quit. Now usually when you quit, you cannot come back until you paperwork is finalized. How ever, HR was in that day, and he was given the paperwork the very next day. He came in, cashed in $1000, and made $50,000 in about a hour at the Baccarat table. My manager, was extremely annoyed, because now this guy is just mocking the casino and having the time of his life (Thanks for the big tip by the way :) ) and so he decides to call it quits. He wants to ban himself and he wants $50,000 in cash. The casino says Nope, we are going to give you a cheque. Now here's the thing, most business people will take the cheque, how ever you CANT CASH the cheque until the following monday because it's on that day where the funds are available. The casino on the other hand will cash their own check in anytime , because they want you to play. So this guy pretty much said go to hell I want my cash, and he called the police. Police show up, and management promptly gave him the cash.I though it was absolutely hilarious .

9) No good deed goes un punished
I was dealing Three Card Poker, and the jackpot was around $17,000. This old man (a regular) was sitting there all day grinding it out. Super nice guy, always a pleasure to deal to. Well, after hours of playing, he stands up and says "Hey john!, can you come here for a minute?" so his buddy John comes over. He says to John "I need to go take a piss real quick, can you play my card until I get back?" John agrees . John takes the chips and I stop him and explain he can't play his friends chips, he needs to cash in and play his own. And he does. Welp, second hand out and bam, doesn't he win it. The old man comes back and is so happy, he can't believe it. John, took his $17,000, didn't say a word to his "buddy" and walked away. I never felt so much hatred in all my life. Didn't give him a dollar, not a thank you, nothing. The old man sits back down again, the progressive resets to $2500, and he sat there grinding away again.
10) The Top Knot
I had this player , young guy, who was born into a fortune. One of his relatives passed away and left him a pretty big sizable amount of money, so he played poker every single day for the rest of his days. I will add, he IS a good player. I did not enjoy his company just because of the "Know-it-All" attitude, but he was good. We'll call him John. John is 5'10, and well build, with muscle. John also decided today was the day to show off his Top Knot. (google top knot if you're not sure what I mean) So he sits down, and he's absolutely KILLING the table. Every hand, after hand, after hand. And because he's in such a good mood, he's playing any two cards, calling any $500 bet, and he's just dominating. This one guy at the table decided he had enough. He got up, without saying a word and left. A moment later, he comes back in, walks behind John, and takes a pair of scissors , and cuts off his Top Knot. I for one couldn't believe it, dying laughing inside, and it just turned into one big brawl. That was a good day.
11) That one bad seed
One of my best friends who I haven't seen in YEARS ended up being part of the crew. Was kind of nice to catch up. We never really got along as we grew up because he has a very high picture of himself . He wanted that 10/10 woman. A mansion, and a new Corvette. So every month or so we would all go up to the other casino to play. I myself would bring no more than $500, but I couldn't understand how this guy (we'll call him Kyle) was spending THOUSANDS of dollars at the tables. So this wen on for a few months. Well, one day, as we're closing the casino, he and I are in the High Limit room and we're getting ready to close the tables. We are told to take the chips out, count them, put them back, sign this piece of paper and that's it. Well as the supervisor was locking the tray, the piece of paper fell to the floor, so she asked Kyle to grab the piece of paper. As he bends over, a great big $500 chip falls right out of his sock. Kyle was fired immediately , but it all made sense. They offered Kyle a deal where if he replaced all the stolen chips they would not make it public. Not sure how that turned out.
12) If I ever decide to write a book, this will be the last chapter: <3
After working at my first Casino for five years, I met a Indian woman who was visiting from another part of the country. During this time I was explaining a game to her, which honestly I don't think she even cared. She explained she was visiting and sight seeing , and that was that.Well, two years later I ended up moving to the other side of the country and transferred casinos, and low and behold she worked there as a Dealer. We got married , and it's been 5 years.
13) The Tip
One of our tables that we've had for a couple years had a progressive jackpot that had reached $100,000. The dealer at the table was sitting pretty lonely. Nobody really played the game because people knew it was extremely difficult to win the jackpot. My memory is a tad foggy, but you somehow needed to flop the royal flush. This young guy sits down and says to the dealer, we'll call him John. "John, if you pay me that jackpot, I will tip you $10,000" Well John started dealing, and about a half hour into his shift, he F*cking did it. He dealt him the royal. And you know something?This young lad, kept his word, and he made sure there was a audience, and he tipped exactly $10,000. That was a moment right there. That pay cheque was real nice. I think we all got about $500 more than usual. The moment that jackpot was awarded they got rid of the table because the money it was making was not near what the casino wanted. I'm sure there have been bigger tips at other casinos, but that was something special .
14) The Lawsuit
Now this story I'm going to have to beat around the bush a bit due to the nature of what happened. I can't won't answer any questions that you may have on this topic other than what I have to say because it had a lot of publicity . The waitresses at this casino had to wear very thin sexy clothes. Not borderline legal, but it was noticed. One day they called all the waitresses to come in and explained they were changing their outfit to something even more sexier. Now these new dresses were very very borderline legal . The staff said No way. We're not wearing that.So , friday night comes, and the staff work their whole shift, then at the end of their shift were called into a meeting and were all fired. Welp, one of those ladies father was a pretty big time lawyer. Brough the casino to court and won. They won big. Good for them. We had no waitresses for a couple days haha.
Thanks for reading along, I have many more I can add as the day goes on, those were just some off the top of my head. Feel free to ask any questions of the Casino industry. I don't really have many stories about the surveillance department because that's the one area where I can't really say a whole lot due to its privacy and contracts I was and still am under.

PSTH potential powderkeg technical setup

Here's my take, and why I'm YOLO all in on PSTH.... Pershing Square Tontine Holdings is the largest special acquisition company to date, created by Bill Ackman, it trades on NYSE, it closed AH at 29.85$. It has 2 years to get a deal done, it IPO'd at 20$ a share, if a deal does not get done, holders of common shares get 20$ a share paid back to them at the end of the 2 years. Which means, the downside risk is limited to 20$ a share no matter what because it is backed by 5 billion dollars.
it IPO'd 21-JUL-2020, it has until 21-JUL-2022 to get a deal done, otherwise holders of common shares get 20$ per share.

Bill was quoted in the fall saying "In terms of timing, what we said at the time of the IPO is we said it would take us, we thought about six months to identify a target that we would be in a position to hopefully announce a deal by sometime in Q1, and then close the transaction in the ordinary course thereafter. Nothing that we have experienced to date, suggests that we won't meet our expect timeframe."
"We had more than 12 billion$ of demand for the offering when we stopped marketing the IPO on the second day of the road show".
"We used the excess demand for the pershing square tontine holdings IPO to curate a shareholder list that would be the envy of any public company. We selected investors for their reputation as long term, value added owners."
list of institutional investors they curated can be found on the nasdaq website. https://www.nasdaq.com/market-activity/stocks/psth/institutional-holdings The private company maintains majority interest, and voting rights. They essentially give up nothing, and get a huge cash injection. There are only so many companies on this list that even qualify in terms of size.
If the timing quote is to be believed, it would put the announcement of a LOI (Letter of intent) for a target sometime in Q1, the general consensus expects an announcement sometime between mid jan - mid feb, most likely after the inauguration to avoid trumptards doing something like storming the capitol again and and scaring the market.

merger criteria: https://pstontine.com/acquisition-criteria/

Simple, Predictable, and free-cash-flow-generative
Formidable barriers to entry
Limited exposure to extrinsic factors that we cannot control
Strong balance sheet
Minimal capital markets dependency
Large capitalization
Attractive valuation
Exceptional management and governance

The key takeaway there is, formidable barrier to entry. They are looking for a titan, they are big game hunting.
They have 5 billion in the warchest, and are able to go up to 7 billion

Kevin O'leary is in big on this https://www.benzinga.com/news/20/12/18735011/why-kevin-oleary-is-betting-on-bill-ackmans-pershing-square-tontine-spac
There are rumors that buffet could be a pipe investor, he has a large position hidden that eventually has to be released with a 13f filing, this is all speculation but check out this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=970&v=FhOzaN7uI_s&feature=youtu.be "What I can tell you is, we met a very diverse base of investors, we got one of the largest orders through one of the firms, for a great, long only, very well regarded asset manager"

Bill doesn't get a deal done
The stock collapses, and hits a hard limit of 20$ a share (about 30% loss from today's stock price).

There are risks with everything, but the set up based on the tontine structure alone could end up being one of the craziest technical plays of 2021 based on the limited float alone, AND the incentive to hold until merger with the tontine structure, this setup has never been done before in a SPAC, and this is THE LARGEST SPAC TO DATE.
Current position: 59 calls, december 2021 expiry, 35$ strike.
Edit: Formatting
2nd edit: 2nd edit: I interpreted the prospectus incorrectly, shoutout to u/eddiepaperhands for clarifying.
“We will provide the holders of the shares of Class A common stock issued in this offering (whom we refer to as our “public stockholders”) with the opportunity to have all or a portion of such shares of Class A common stock redeemed upon the completion of our initial business combination at a per-share price, payable in cash, equal to the aggregate amount then on deposit in the trust account described below as of five business days prior to the consummation of our initial business combination, including interest earned on the funds held in the trust account and not previously released to us to pay our taxes, divided by the number of then outstanding shares of Class A common stock that were sold as part of the units in this offering, subject to the limitations described herein.”
Still bullish AF though :)

Weekly Promo Code List 21/02/08

PSTH technical powderkeg setup

Bill was quoted in the fall saying "In terms of timing, what we said at the time of the IPO is we said it would take us, we thought about six months to identify a target that we would be in a position to hopefully announce a deal by sometime in Q1, and then close the transaction in the ordinary course thereafter. Nothing that we have experienced to date, suggests that we won't meet our expect timeframe."
"We had more than 12 billion$ of demand for the offering when we stopped marketing the IPO on the second day of the road show".
"We used the excess demand for the pershing square tontine holdings IPO to curate a shareholder list that would be the envy of any public company. We selected investors for their reputation as long term, value added owners."
list of institutional investors they curated can be found on the nasdaq website. The private company maintains majority interest, and voting rights. They essentially give up nothing, and get a huge cash injection. There are only so many companies on this list that even qualify in terms of size.
If the timing quote is to be believed, it would put the announcement of a LOI (Letter of intent) for a target sometime in Q1, the general consensus expects an announcement sometime between mid jan - mid feb, most likely after the inauguration to avoid trumptards doing something like storming the capitol again and and scaring the market.

merger criteria: https://pstontine.com/acquisition-criteria/

Simple, Predictable, and free-cash-flow-generative
Formidable barriers to entry
Limited exposure to extrinsic factors that we cannot control
Strong balance sheet
Minimal capital markets dependency
Large capitalization
Attractive valuation
Exceptional management and governance

The key takeaway there is, formidable barrier to entry. They are looking for a titan, they are big game hunting.
They have 5 billion in the warchest, and are able to go up to 7 billion

Kevin O'leary is in big on this https://www.benzinga.com/news/20/12/18735011/why-kevin-oleary-is-betting-on-bill-ackmans-pershing-square-tontine-spac
There are rumors that buffet could be a pipe investor, he has a large position hidden that eventually has to be released with a 13f filing, this is all speculation but check out this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=970&v=FhOzaN7uI_s&feature=youtu.be "What I can tell you is, we met a very diverse base of investors, we got one of the largest orders through one of the firms, for a great, long only, very well regarded asset manager"

Bill doesn't get a deal done
The stock collapses, and hits a hard limit of 20$ a share (about 30% loss from today's stock price).

21 years old, set to receive 80k, what to do with it?

I’m a ‘Rock-Collector’. I hunt the nightmare boulders of the black beach. [Final]

[Part 1/2]
“Oh hell, Arthur, shit. We’re about to be tag-team-double-fucked by a pair of bloody rocks”. Carwyn lets out a quick, mad laugh, then begins to panic. He starts hyperventilating. I grab him by the sleeve of his jacket.
“Fuck’s sake”, I hiss. “Pull yourself together. We’re fine, they don’t move unless provoked. We’re fine”.
“You sure about that boyo?” he replies in a voice several pitches higher than his default.
I’m not, of course. Not anymore. I don’t know how I’m keeping it together, to be honest. I’m terrified. I think Carwyn’s panic makes it easier for me to be the ‘sane’ one, but, to be fair, the roles could easily be reversed.
He doesn’t even have his gun. It was all left by the place we cut open the sack that contained the girl. All I really have on me is my knife.
“That’s YOUR face, mate”, Carwyn mutters, shrugging free of my grip. “YOUR face. What the hell do you think that means, hm? How the hell did it do that? WHY?”
“I don’t know. But I tell you what, I’m grabbing the burner. It still has like 50% charge. I can easily get another couple of hits out of it”.
I turn and stride down the beach, across the wet, rank sand towards the rucksack.
Carwyn, not wanting to look the coward, sharpens up. But he’s muttering to himself now, scratching at his stubble and shooting glances over his shoulder. We slow down a little as we approach the site, and the scene becomes clearer through the mists.
…I’m not the only one with a rock carved in the likeness of my face, it would seem. The one ahead looks like Carwyn.
“Fuck’s sake…” he murmurs. His chain-gun, and the trap he typically carries strapped to his leg are both right by the boulder’s base. Under normal circumstances we’d both be comfortable going right up to it and simply taking them, but, these are not normal circumstances. We keep our distance.
The rucksack is also closer to the boulder than I would prefer, but it’s still a good two or so metres away, resting up against the cluster of stones where I left it. The burner is inside.
“I’m gonna make a grab for it”, I whisper to my colleague.
“Are you sure? Is it worth it?”
“I’m gonna do it”.
He takes a breath. “Aight. I tell you what, hold on just for a second, I’ll stand over here. If it makes to move, I’ll try and encourage it over here instead”.
Carwyn goes to stand in the sea again, a little further away. He nods once he’s in place, and I clench my jaw, striding forwards… swiftly but softly, reaching down for the rucksack, grabbing it by one of the straps and yanking it away… But as I do so, I knock some of the stones, and they clatter noisily over each other as they fall to the sands.

I freeze, cringing in horror, waiting…
…tensed…

…but the creature does not move. It remains in place. The crude-cut, pupil-less eyes of Carwyn’s stone clone stare back into mine.
Ugh.
I creep back along the sands, and Carwyn clambers out of the sea to join me. He shoots at look back behind him. I presume the third rock hasn’t moved based on his lack of reaction.
I open the pack and draw out the poles and folded mechanisms, hastily starting to set it up at the appropriate distance.
“What are you doing?” Carwyn asks me.
“You know what I’m doing. We’re gonna blow this bastard sky-high”.
He grabs my shoulder. “I get it. Commitment to the job and all. It’s admirable. But you said it only has about 50% charge, right? If we’re gonna do this again let’s use what COULD be our last shot on the creature that’s closest to the truck? Quick getaway and all that if needs be?”
Fuck, he makes a good point. Maybe I’m not being as sane as I think I am. My heart is like a hammer, to be fair. I’m just trying to remain cool-headed.
I nod. “Alright, let’s do this”.
Carwyn glances over to the bulk of his own equipment, right at the boulder’s base, and reluctantly decides to leave it behind. We march back, again, down the length of the beach. Both of looking forwards and backwards at quick intervals.
We really have no choice in the matter. We’re trapped by the low, but still rather steep stone cliffs on the one side, and the froth of the grey-green sea on the other. The truck is parked on the sand, but it’ll have no problems driving up the nearby bank.
…If we can get to it, that is.
The boulder in the likeness of my own face gets closer and closer as we approach.

Fifteen metres away.
Ten metres.
Five.

We’re going to step into the sea and creep around it… Then, with the truck at our backs, try to take out at least this one creature before making our getaway.

The creature, however, has other plans.
It shifts.

…It shifts.

Unprompted, the creature MOVES, of its own FUCKING ACCORD.
“SHIT!” I shout in fright as the stone shivers. The sand at its base is disturbed and starts to shake.
“Fuckin’- set it up! Set it up mate, the burner!” Carwyn babbles as he grabs his trusty silver chalk.
“We can’t- I can’t hit a moving creature! Carwyn we gotta go, mate. You were right, let’s just make a run for it. If we split up-”
“No!” he barks, “YOU were the who who’s right- We’re taking at least one of these fuckers out on the way, and the one with the body in the shape of YOUR ugly mug seems a good bloody choice to me!”
An interesting, and bizarrely rapid role reversal… but I find myself doing as he says. Scrambling back up onto the rougher terrain of the crumbled stones, tearing off my rucksack and fumbling for the poles and equipment inside.
Carwyn has moved into the sea. Mobility reduced, but the angle is better. He blows a quick, sharp note on his tone-whistler, and the great rock lurches in response. My enormous stone head shifts so that it is now staring up into the sky. A dark, squirming leg bursts out from the underside.
I fumble with the equipment and drop one of the poles into a gap between the stones by mistake. I swear and grunt as I push my hand down into the crack, achieving a tentative grip and drawing it back up, before fastening it awkwardly into place.
The creature now has three of its legs free. Carwyn has pushed back up onto the beach, and I watch in furtive glances as he jumps from side to side, drawing a particularly clumsy set of circles on the side of the creature closest to me. He veers back to avoid an enormous scuttling leg, then darts forwards with a quick strike of the chalk to mark the line that cuts through them.
Good man, I think, wiping my forehead. Balls of steel when the chips are down.
I fasten the last piece of the burner into place and power it up, slapping the side a few times for good measure.
It whirrs and grinds irritably, then flashes that digital text on its rain-splattered screen.
‘‘BATTERY: 41’
Fuck. It’s dropped again. Still, it should be enough.
I open up the sights and squat in place, aiming as best I can.

The angle, however, no longer works.

“CARWYN!” I call out to him.
“I KNOW, I KNOW!” he replies, jumping like a madman over the sands, blowing sparingly but powerfully on the tone-whistler, and the great rock shifts around and around as it ‘follows’ him. More of those legs burst out from the underside. It starts to unfurl its mouth.

“Come on”, I mutter, “a little more…”
My finger itches on the metal trigger.
Carwyn has drawn the circles on the cracked stone of ‘my’ right cheek, and as it turns to follow his movements, it falls right into my sights.
I squeeze the trigger down at once.

The device whirrs frantically.

…And then the great rock of the creature’s body lurches as it staggers to the side.
“FUCK!”
I move the sights as quickly as I can…
…But it isn’t enough.
The burner casts a circle of light, one that fails to align with the chalk marker drawn by Carwyn by about four or five inches. Not bad, all things considered, but not quite good enough. The following and unavoidable flash is bright, and is accompanied by that snapping-matchstick sound, and that strong smell of burnt rubber.
“CARWYN! I MISSED! MOVE, MATE, FUCKING MOVE!”
He does so.
Like a hare he swivels on his heels with a cloud of sand and tears across the beach, choosing to dive into and under the icy water.
I grab the burner under my arm, ignoring the burn from the barrel that stings my elbow and stumble back across the stones towards the cliff, as far from the creature as I can manage.
I hear it’s scream behind me.
The burnt-rubber smell increases tenfold; it is sickening in its thickness and I suppress a gag.
A glance over my shoulders shows me the creature, a great crack formed across its rock body (across my rock face), leaking out chunky, viscous grey fluid as it veers noisily from side to side, against a nearby cluster of rocks, then back across the sands on drunken legs and into the sea.
My stomach lurches in fear as I temporarily forget whereabouts beneath the water Carwyn is hiding, but there is nothing I can do to help him now. I throw myself down between a stone and the edge of the cliff, grunting with effort as I drag nearby rocks around me in the form of a hasty, make-shift wall; a natural barrier of sorts.
The sea bubbles and froths malevolently where the fluid hits it. I hope Carwyn is far enough away.
The creature pushes back out of the sea once again in a blind rage; pieces of rock now starting to collapse entirely from its body with long, sticky, accompanying strands of grey ooze. The three blades of its mouth stretch wide as it screeches into the salty evening air of the beach. Great bubbles form in the cracks. Some burst, some only continue to swell. The liquid that now splatters and sprays from its body is different to the fluid that leaks from an imploded corpse. This is fresher, and far more dangerous. It steams where it hits the sand.
It rears up on its back legs, and I am ‘treated’ to a rare view of its underside from my position, and all the horrific, dark, slimy yet shell-like mechanisms of its twisted crustacean body.
With a final screech, the creature explodes.
Fluid bursts out like a volcano, and shards of rock are thrown violently in all directions.
I duck down with a curse as I hear one such piece whistle past my head and crack into the cliffwall behind me. I watch through my fingers as bucketfuls of the creature’s innards are splashed malevolently against the stone and sands and sea, sizzling and gurgling as it lands and settles.
All that remains of the creature is a greyish-black wet blob, with a couple of non-descript chunks of shell and quivering half-legs twitching in the muck.
I peer up over the stones, watching as the liquid starts to cool. I glance over to the frothing waters.
“Fuck’s sake Carwyn, please be alright mate, please be alright”.

“…If you say so!” he shouts from right behind me, and I just about jump out of my skin.

“AGH! Christ’s SAKE CARWYN! You mad cunt!”
He’s soaked from head to toe, of course, shivering, but otherwise completely fine. He must have swam the coast and clambered out onto the beach without me noticing. He laughs, then offers me his hand. I take it, and he hauls me up.
I brush myself down and we both look over to the remains of the creature.

“Won’t be finding any bodies in that thing”, Carwyn mutters.
“Yeah”, I reply. “I know, apologies mate, it moved too fast”.
“Oh, no don’t worry man, I didn’t mean it like that. You shot better than I would have done, don’t sweat it”.
I nod, and gather up the equipment, shooting a look over my shoulder to boulder number two, the one that looks like Carwyn. It’s still sat right where we left it.
We hurry across the beach, carefully avoiding the fluid on the way back to the truck.
It’ll be our responsibility to clean this up, and under normal circumstances it would have to be done immediately, TONIGHT; working until the early hours of the morning if that’s what it took; but these are extraordinary circumstances.
Hopefully back at base they’ll take SOME pity on us, though they won’t be impressed, we know that for a fact. Not bloody impressed at all. Maybe they’ll have to pull some strings and get the entire stretch of beach cordoned off for a while. Who knows.
For now though, we’ve overstayed our welcome. It’s time to fuck the fuck off.
Slipping and stumbling over the grimy sand we both haul open the opposite doors of the truck at the same time. With a grunt I fling the rucksack and the half-stashed away burner into the back with a clatter of metal as Carwyn turns the key.
The windscreen wipers come on and push away the layer of rain across the glass.

…By doing so, it reveals the second creature. The rock in the likeness of Carwyn, staggering down the beach. Right towards us, mouth clicking and gnashing, scuttling furiously over the sands.
A dark and anomalous stain on the landscape.

I shout in panic, slamming the dashboard.
“JESUS! CARWYN MOVE THIS THING! MOVE THE FUCKING TRUCK!”
“SHIT! FUCK!” Carwyn blurts out, fumbling with the gears and slamming down on the accelerator.
The truck lurches forwards, not backwards, and promptly stalls. The engine cuts out.
“CARWYN!?”
Carwyn bellows something indecipherable in Wenglish and shakes as he fumbles with the key.
The engine grinds back into life, but the creature is close now, so bloody close.
Oh God. It’s going to slam into the truck. It’s going to smash the glass, or tip us over into the sea, this is it, we’re done for-

-but none of those things happen.

The creature instead draws itself to an eerily sudden stop, twitching a few metres ahead of us, its mouth pointed towards the vehicle, opening and closing. As if feasting on the truck’s warm fumes.

We stare at it, both of us, the only noises the patter of rain on the windshield, and the gentle rumble of the truck’s engine.

The creature, after a moment, starts to quiver. It stretches out its limbs, and we can both see bubbles forming beneath, between the blur of its black and lobster-like legs.
“What the hell is it doing?” Carwyn whispers, but of course, I do not know the answer.
It lets out a noise, a strange one that I am not familiar with. Not a screech- more like a low warbling, and with a final shake a thick burst of liquid-ooze pours out from its underside. As it disperses over the sands, there is something revealed in its midst.
…It’s another sack. Another of those grey membrane-like sacks.
We watch in disbelief. The creature wavers in place for a minute, stumbling from leg to leg, then it promptly turns and shuffles back towards the sea.
Away it goes, disappearing gradually beneath the froth and the gentle waves; down, down into the watery murk.

It takes a while for either of us to move, or to speak.
We just look down at the man-sized sack left behind on the beach, in a puddle of grey ooze.

“Right then”, I mutter eventually, and that’s that. We both exit the truck and cross the sand towards the deposit, guards raised, but unable to simply leave this curiosity un-studied.
I take a deep breath, then crouch down beside it, slowly and steadily slicing through its edge with my little knife.

The skin peels back… to reveal a boy. He’s about fifteen. Eyes closed tight shut, naked. Pale as death.

I stand back up and take a step back.
“What the hell is all this, Carwyn?” I ask my colleague. “Three creatures in one night? Rocks in the shape of faces, of OUR fucking faces… Any now this? The creature just left this kid behind? Why would it do that?”
Carwyn sighs and shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “I mean to be fair mate, how much do we even know about these things? I tell you what though, and you’ll appreciate this- I actually know this guy”.
I stare at him. “You what?”
“I know him. I know of him, at least. I’ve seen him on the news. This is the kid that got caught in the tide last week. Swept away. They never found him. Poor bastard”.
I look back to the boy’s face.
“Toby something-or-other. Not sure what happened to him exactly. I think he fell off a boat”.
“Shit”, I reply.

We look at him for a moment longer.

“I guess we’d better get him back in the truck then”, I say. “I’m done with this damned beach for one night”.
“Ha”, Carwyn chuckles dryly. “Just wait til command send us right back with a cleanup crew”.
“You think they would?” I ask him.
“I’d fuckin bet on it”, he says.

And that’s when Toby’s corpse opens its eyes.

The terror I feel in that moment eclipses all other instances of fear I may have ever felt on that beach. It is an icy shard of pure panic that stabs into my very heart.
The boy is lucky that I was clumsy enough to drop my knife in fright, otherwise it could well have ended up in his head.
Because he was no corpse.
The boy lost at sea, the boy that Carwyn correctly identified as ‘Toby’, was very much alive.
And he returned to the world with an expulsion of salty-seawater vomit and a frantic fear of his own, as he struggled against the confines of his membrane-like cocoon on an unfamiliar beach.
After a couple of minutes of pants-shitting chaos, we, as a trio, were able to gather enough sense and wits between us to get back into the truck… and to drive the hell away.

*

Command were pretty pissed, but thanks to the safe and cataclysmically bizarre return of Toby to the land of living, we were not assigned to the clean-up crew, and instead got the privilege of a lengthy debrief in the safe, warm offices of the base.
We should be pleased with such a discovery, I suppose. The discovery of a lad alive and well… But the implications are great, and worrying.
Carwyn and I do not discuss this anxiety with others, but we wonder often these days about the second creature. The one in the likeness of myself, the one that we destroyed.
…And we wonder what (…or who) may have been inside.

Regardless. We don’t work the black beach, any more.
Our duties have changed, somewhat.
…But those are tales for another time.

Over 100K In Losses...

Of Nite and Dei [Chapter 24]

Table of Contents
Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23

Shuttle Goodwill
Yuki did her best to keep herself conscious as the ship finally left Dei’s atmosphere.
Immediately upon leaving Dei’s atmosphere, Terrabetha unbuckled herself and floated towards Thomas, who had been strapped in near Yuki.
“Wait, Tarra!” Yuki protested, struggling with her own straps as Tarrabetha pulled Thomas from his.
“He needs medical attention!” Tarrabetha shouted as she carried him off to the medical bay.
Yuki followed after him, “Tarrabetha you don’t understand…!”
Issla followed behind her, “Yuki, I agree with you, we don’t understand!”
Yuki turned, frowning as she found Briggett behind her.
“Issla’s right,” Briggett seconded, “so explain to us, what is going on? What was happening out there?”
Issla floated towards Yuki, moving her hand over Yuki’s bloodied forehead brushing the hair that was floating over Yuki’s brow away, “Yuki you’re bleeding from your… wait… do angels have little horns?”
Yuki nodded, “As of today? I guess I do.”
“Let’s discuss it in medical,” Biggett ordered.
Yuki sighed, as they entered, “Yeah, I guess I have a whole lot to explain to you all.”
Once inside the medical bay, Tarrabetha gently strapped Thomas into a bed and placed a monitor onto his finger.
Issla sighed, “I’ll check his vitals, Tarra. Why don’t you check the cargo and get me an inventory of what’s back there?”
Tarrabetha nodded, “okay, but if Tom wakes up, come get me!”
“About that,” Yuki winced, “I need to tell you guys about something very important.”
Tarrabetha called back as she floated through the doorway, “Wait till I get back!”
Yuki groaned in frustration, “fine.”
Briggett looked to Yuki’s wing, “it’s for the best, we need to get you patched up anyway.”
Tarrabetha made her way towards the cargo bay, and gave the doorway a curious look, noting that it was opened. “How did that happen?”
As Tarrabetha floated near the door, only to discover that the seat nearest the door was occupied by the same officer who took Yuki off of the ship when they landed. Though he looked far more disheveled than he did earlier.
There Tarrabetha spotted Palma, scuffed up, and still in his police uniform, passed out in a passenger seat. Palma, unlike the shuttle’s crew members, was not trained in keeping himself from losing consciousness during a rocket launch.
“What, a stowaway?!” Tarrabetha shouted, narrowing her eyes on Palma as she moved to unbuckle him from his seat.
Palma slowly groaned as Tarrabetha pulled him out of his seat.
“Wake up bud!” Tarrabetha shouted.
Palma grunted, grabbing at Tarrabetha’s hands, “Hey, let go of me, man!”
Tarrabetha narrowed her eyes, carrying Palma into the cargo bay, “I’m not a man, you idiot!”
Palma blinked, “Oh, right. Sorry, it’s just that you’re huge.”
“Thanks?” Tarrabetha said confused as to whether that was a compliment or not on Dei.
“I need to get the girl on your ship,” Palma pleaded.
Tarrabetha narrowed her eyes on him, “Wait, are you the one who hurt her?”
Palma cleared his throat, “No, but-”
Palma did not expect Tarrabetha to be able to sense his emotions, and Tarrabetha’s hands tightened around Palma’s shoulders, “you’re lying! Tell me the truth,” she glared at him, “or I’ll lock you up!”
Palma winced as Tarrabetha’s grip tightened on his shoulders. “I need to bring her back to Dei, okay? She’s tried to kidnap a child, and she needs to be punished!”
“You can’t kidnap your own kid!” Tarrabetha narrowed her eyes, growling, “You hurt Yuki! That means you’re dangerous!”
Palma grinned, “Oh, darlin’ you have no idea,” his gaze hardened, “now let me go, so we can turn this ship around. You can go, but Yuki has to stay on Dei.”
“Yuki is going home,” Tarrabetha growled, “to Nite!”
“I don’t want to hurt a Dragon,” Palma warned, “but I will.”
Tarrabetha gave a confused stare to Palma, unsure of his meaning before he leaned his head back and headbutted her snout.
Tarrabetha was caught off-guard, and roared in pain, as she let go of his shoulder to grab her snout in pain.
Palma flapped his wings, in an attempt to push himself towards the opened door.
Tarrabetha reached out and grabbed Palma by his foot, “Oh no you don’t!” she pulled at him, drawing Palma away from the door which caused her to float towards him.
Palma turned to face Tarrabetha, closing his fists, “I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Then don’t!” Tarrabetha protested as she tried to restrain Palma.
As Tarrabetha struggled with Palma, the pair were moving towards the ceiling, slowly.
Palma glared at Tarrabetha once more and moved to take a swing at her.
Tarrabetha ducked her head down to avoid Palma’s punch.
Much to Palma’s shock, he continued to float upwards while the momentum of his punch carried him forward in zero gravity. He continued forward, towards Tarrabetha, even as she lifted up her head once he was over her. Palma now found himself stuck between the ceiling and Tarrabetha’s head.
A head which came adorned with two rather prominent horns.
One of which pierced into Palma’s stomach, sliding behind his ribcage. Palma gasped in pain as her horn stabbed into him. Out of instinct, Palma grabbed at Tarrabetha’s other horn, his grip tightening.
Tarrabetha felt Palma’s panic and pushed away from the ceiling, shocked Palma was still traveling with her. “Let go!” she shouted
“C-can’t!” Palma wheezed, “your… horn… is…”
Tarrabetha’s feet hit the floor, and Palma continued downward, Tarrabetha’s horn now piercing his lung.
Palma coughed up blood, choking on it as he tried to expel the fluid from his mouth. Worse yet, as there was no gravity, the blood pooled in his throat, sucking down into his functional lung.
“Let go!” Tarrabetha shouted in panic, finally reaching up and pulling Palma away as hard as she could.
Palma couldn’t speak as he felt Tarrabetha’s horn now pressing hard into his rips. A snap and crack were heard as Tarrabetha pushed Palma’s body away. Palma was free, as were several of his ribs, all ripped out of him by Tarrabetha’s horn.
Tarrabetha’s eyes went wide as she saw Palma’s body floating towards the far wall. She let out a shriek of terror.
Within seconds Briggett, Issla, and Yuki rushed to the cargo bay.
Briggett and Issla were shocked at the sight of Palma’s bloodied body.
Yuki narrowed her eyes on Palma just as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body colliding with the wall, bouncing slowly back from where it came.
With a few quick flaps of her wings, Yuki made her way towards Palma’s body and checked his pulse. “He’s dead,” Yuki thought coolly.
Tarrabetha cried out in terror and sorrow, sobbing into her hands, “I didn’t want to hurt him! I swear! Oh Guardians I swear I didn’t mean to!”
Yuki grimaced, “he was a piece of shit,” Yuki looked around, grabbing Palma by the wrist and flapping her way towards an airlock, “He’s the one who hurt me before.”
Issla rushed to Tarrabetha, “Tarra, calm down!”
Tarrabetha hugged Issla tightly, sobbing and muttering into her shoulder.
Briggett flew to Yuki, “what are you doing?”
“Handling this,” Yuki said, motioning to Palma. As she reached the airlock, she grabbed hold of a handle by the doorway. “Brigg, can you hand me that safety line?”
Briggett turned to the long cord with a clamp-on either end. She handed it to Yuki, “what do you need this for?”
Yuki took one end, opening the interior door of the airlock, and clipping the tether to a small latch inside, “making sure this bastard doesn’t stink up the ship.”
Briggett’s brow furrowed as she watched Yuki wrap the tether around Palma’s body several times. She made sure to tie his wings and arms to his back and sides. Her goal was to make moving Palma easy, or as easy as possible. Finally, she looped one end through itself and attached the other end of the tether on another anchor inside the airlock.
Yuki floated out, closing the interior door with Palma’s body inside. She pressed a few buttons on the control panel, the inner door locking, and the outer door opening. “Do we have a freezer here? A large one?” Yuki asked with a cold and calculating demeanor.
Briggett sighed, “Yes, but it’s for edibles!”
“Do we have a bag we can put him in?” Yuki asked.
Briggett stared in shock at Yuki, “Yuki, isn’t this one of your people? How can you-”
“We need to deal with him, now, not later, we can mourn his life or condemn it later,” Yuki snapped, “I’m sorry, Brigg, but when shit goes sideways this is how I handle stuff on my ship, okay? Emotions take a backseat, they have too!” Yuki blinked tears out of her eyes, forcing them back, “It’s hard enough ignoring Tarra’s emotions, okay? Just help me do this!”
Briggett nodded, feeling Yuki’s determination, “there’s a whole vacuum-pack system in case the food bags broke or needed repackaging,” Briggett informed Yuki.
Yuki nodded, “Good,” she looked into the small window of the airlock, seeing Palma’s body suspended between the ropes, now frozen solid. She closed the outer airlock door, and opened the inner one, floating inside to undo the restraints on Palma, undoing the tether around him as she went. “Let's get him packed up. We can deal with him later, right now we have to worry about Thomas and Tarrabetha.”
Briggett nodded, “Right,” she flew towards the far end of the cargo bay, “follow me this way, it’s where the vacuum pack system is.”
Briggett was already pulling out a large sheet of plastic by the time Yuki had gotten to her with Palma’s frozen corpse.
Briggett looked to Palma, eyeballing his dimensions, and cut and fused a few sheets of plastic together. Before sealing the last opening, she turned to Yuki, “In he goes.”
Yuki pushed Palma’s body headfirst into the plastic bag. Once inside, Briggett sealed most of the opened end before slipping a small hose into the bag, which drew the air out completely.
Palma was now encased in durable freezer plastic. Yuki and Briggett shoved Palma’s body into a large empty freezer.
Briggett sighed, “That’s not good.”
“He deserved it,” Yuki said, shaking her head, “trust me.”
“No,” Briggett corrected, “the freezer he’s in? That should be full of food. I’m going to need an inventory of what we have. No matter what, we’re short.”
Yuki nodded, “I’ll make up a list for us.”
Briggett turned to Issla, “How is Tarra?”
Issla shook her head, “Not good.”
Briggett sighed, “We’re going to need to sedate her. I’m already getting freaked out by her panicking.”
Yuki gave a nod, “it’s getting to me too.”
Issla escorted Tarrabetha to her bed and laid her down. “Tarra, take this, okay? Just take a little… and go to sleep, okay? You’ll feel better when you wake up, we’ve got this.”
Tarrabetha was a little fussy with having something shoved into her mouth, but eventually relented. In a few minutes, she was relaxed and sleeping soundly.
“Is she going to be okay?” Yuki asked.
“She’s got a hit of Benzodiazepine, she’ll be okay,” Briggett turned to Yuki, “I’m going to get us on a direct course home, Issla, send out a distress call, we’re going to need another ship from Nite to meet us halfway, as we’re low on supplies. Not sure how low, so make sure they know it’s an extremely urgent situation.”
“Got it,” Issla said, heading to the bridge.
“When Tarra wakes up,” Briggett said, turning to Yuki, “You’re going to explain exactly what happened out there.”
Yuki heaved a sigh, and nodded, “I have a confession to make.”
“What’s that?” Briggett asked.
“I haven’t been forthcoming with you about Dei’s knowledge of Nite,” Yuki admitted, “so all of you are going to have to listen to me very carefully.”
“About what?” Briggett asked.
“About the reality of Nite and Dei,” Yuki confessed.
…
Dei
Cleo looked to Hoffman’s dead body, smiling as she did so, “I think this meeting can adjourn for now while we take care of some housekeeping,” Cleo turned to Sorjoy, “Mr. Sorjoy, if you could assist me?”
Sorjoy’s lip quivered in anger as he seethed at Cleo, “Of course… Persephone.”
“That would be,” Cleo smiled, “Comptroller Persephone if you wouldn’t mind. During meetings, you have to show some respect, Mr. Sorjoy.”
As the room emptied of the other Scale members, Sorjoy slowly got to his feet, “Mr. Trueman, what is the meaning of this?”
Mr. Trueman grinned wickedly, “I do believe all of it was explained to you during the meeting, Mr. Sorjoy, was it not?”
“How can she be the new head of the organization!” Sorjoy snapped.
Mr. Trueman’s grin vanished, “Because in this organization’s hour of need I watched petty politics and power struggles blind everyone involved to our core goal. I set you on a simple task, and yet you took the darkest route you could.”
Sorjoy was stunned to silence.
“I expected you to show some compassion to your sister, but sadly that wasn’t the case,” Mr. Trueman shook his head, “meanwhile, Persephone provided me with all the truly relevant information I needed on the matter. She even provided me avenues that you nor Mr. Hoffman had even considered. All while being directly under your, and the organization’s nose.”
Cleo beamed proudly.
“Honestly, Sorjoy, it would be foolish not to instate her in a high rank within The Scale,” Mr. Trueman admitted. “Now, I leave you in her capable hands.” With that, Mr. Trueman turned and left the room.
Sorjoy waited for Trueman to leave before he looked to Cleo, “Why, when, and how?”
Cleo smiled pleasantly to Sorjoy, “Why? Because my whole life I’ve been stuck serving the upper crust of this world when I should have been part of it from the get-go. Thanks to assholes like my father, and Palma, however, I got tossed into the bottom rung. In a way, I guess I should thank them. I got to see how this world really functioned, from the bottom up. Now, I have the ability to change it,” she motioned to Hoffman, “mind carting the old fart topside? Naberious is waiting for us.”
Sorjoy grabbed Hoffman’s chair, pulling it along towards a door, “You didn’t answer the rest of my questions.”
“When and how? Well,” Cleo hesitated slightly, “did you know what my previous profession was?”
“I knew you were an escort,” Sorjoy admitted.
Cleo’s smile widened, “that’s what I had to do to survive, yes, but my original Profession? I was trained in computer science, Mr. Sorjoy,” Cleo boasted. “Network Security, Programming, and Computer Sciences.”
“Meaning…?” Sorjoy asked, agitated as he tugged Hoffman’s chair into an elevator.
“Meaning,” Cleo beamed, “that when your little IT boys gave me administrator-level access I created a new account for myself with full admin rights. It took me two weeks to uncover every single dirty little secret that Fondsworth had its greedy little hands in. Originally I was just looking into corporate espionage… it wasn’t until I bugged your phone that I got the real dirt on you.”
Sorjoy heaved a sigh, “You heard my conversations on the Red Phone?”
Cleo nodded, “Your communication with Gallor was unsettling, at first. An entire planet that we have been told holds nothing but untold horrors and brutal savage Dragons intent on ripping us apart? And it turns out the most deadly thing those creatures have are sharp tongues.”
“What?” Sorjoy asked.
Cleo laughed, “I heard you get chewed out by Chairwoman Rezzolina Misho. I very much look forward to chatting with her, to be honest. She sounds like my kind of woman.”
The pair reached the surface, which opened into an underground garage.
Naberious stood near the limousine, his wing bandaged.
“Nabs, what happened? Are you alright?” Cleo asked, walking towards him with a concerned look on her face.
“I’m fine, Persephone,” Naberious smiled to her, “just a flesh wound. I’ll be okay.”
Sorjoy sneered at Naberious, “you’re in on this too?”
Naberious opened his jacket, revealing a fresh sterling silver Scale pin, “I am now, as is all of Cerberus.”
“You’re one of the leaders of Cerberus?!” Sorjoy shouted.
Naberious chuckled, “Nah, just the muscle,” Naberious said as he walked to Mr. Hoffman’s dead body, hefting it up out of the chair, “Why don’t you two get inside the limo?”
Cleo gave a nod, “After you, Mr. Sorjoy.”
Sorjoy climbed in as Naberious stuffed Hoffman’s body into the trunk. “So where does that leave me?” Sorjoy asked.
Cleo mused, “Honestly, Erik,” she said as she took a seat inside the limo, “I’m not one to destroy all The Scale traditions. Just injecting fresh blood. I do intend to name you Grand Patriarch.”
“Where does that leave you?” Sorjoy asked.
“Your superior, of course, but I’ll expect you to handle the day to day operations,” Cleo informed.
Sorjoy’s eye twitched, “Wait…”
“After all,” Cleo smiled wide, “I’ll need a capable assistant.”
Naberious climbed into the driver’s seat and the limo began to drive as Sorjoy fixed Cleo with a withering gaze.
“What’s with the name, Persephone?” Sorjoy asked.
“It’s my whitehat hacker screen name,” Cleo smiled, “every prominent Scale member gets an option to change their name, don’t they? I know you did.”
“I took my father’s,” Sorjoy admitted, rolling his eyes, “So, what’s next?”
Cleo adjusted her make-up in a small compact mirror, smiling to Sorjoy, “Well, firstly we’re going to stop outside of Hoffman’s estate. There you’ll wait at the main gate with the Late Mr.Hoffman. Once I pick up his bride for a ‘girl’s night’ out, you’re going to bring Hoffman into his home, and promptly deposit him in his foyer.”
“And the cover story?” Sorjoy asked.
“Wife finds husband dead from a heart attack,” Cleo offered, smiling, “seems all those cigars got to Mr. Hoffman, and he collapsed in his foyer.”
“And what about the ‘wife’? I doubt Hoffman would leave everything to her,” Sorjoy lifted an eyebrow, “unless…?”
“Unless someone edited the document after it was signed?” Cleo smiled, “Why, Mr. Sorjoy, whoever would, or could, do such a thing?”
Sorjoy smiled, “Okay. So the girl gets his fortune, is she on a list to join the Scale next?”
“Teryn?” Cleo frowned, looking to Naberious, “She’s a close friend, and I love her, but I’d never put her life at risk like that. No, she’s just going to live the life of a pampered widow.”
“You sure she’ll be okay with that?” Sorjoy asked, “no offense, but she seemed happy.”
Cleo fixed Sorjoy with a stone gaze, “Teryn’s biggest fear will be where she lives going forward. Don’t worry, Mr. Sorjoy, Teryn will be my burden to carry.”
Sorjoy nodded, “Everyone within the Scale has to carry weight.”
“Yes,” Cleo sighed, “I’m well aware of what weights everyone carries.”
The limo pulled up to the front gate of the Hoffman Estate.
“CEOs and Late Arrivals,” Naberious mock announced as he popped the trunk.
Sorjoy gave Cleo an agitated glare, “Why do I have to do this?”
“You’re the only one I can trust to not say a word to any authorities,” Cleo smiled, “besides, when was the last time you truly got your hands dirty?”
Sorjoy scoffed as he got out of the limo, and moved to the trunk, and pulled Hoffman’s corpse out of it, “so how do I plant the body?” Sorjoy asked.
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” Cleo said with a catty smile as she shut the limo door. As it drove towards the front gate, Cleo frowned to Naberious, “Nabs, will Teryn be okay?”
Naberious frowned at her, “Not sure. Don’t think Teryn’s ever lost, anyone.”
“Did she really love Hoffman?” Cleo asked.
“Hard to say,” Naberious shrugged, “He was her best client. I can’t say she felt nothing for him.”
Cleo frowned, “Do you think she’d forgive me if I told her?”
“Let’s leave that discussion for another day,” Naberious said as he pulled up to the front of the large mansion.
Teryn was grinning ear to ear wearing her red glittery, and form-fitting, club gown, “Girl’s night!!” Teryn shouted, “Pat I’m so glad you finally took a night off!!”
Cleo forced a smile as she popped out of the limo’s moonroof window, “Well I kind of had to! Otherwise, I’d go crazy!”
“Woo!” Teryn laughed as she climbed into the limo.
Cleo came back into the limo, hugging Teryn as she got in.
“We’re going to tear that club up!” Teryn laughed, “and who knows, maybe we’ll find a man for you!”
Cleo laughed, “That’s not necessary.”
Teryn fixed Cleo with a serious expression, “Pat… you need to get laid! Like good, toe-curling, find a hot guy at the club who knows how to use his tongue, laid!”
Cleo laughed, “Well okay, but only if he has a talented mouth!”
“And tongue!” Teryn laughed, “Come on Nabby! Let’s Go!” Teryn shouted excitedly as Naberious chuckled at the pair and drove off.
Teryn had no idea that, once the limousine passed the front gate, her husband’s body was being dragged, discreetly, through the driveway by Sorjoy.
As Sorjoy pushed the doors open, he grunted, hefting Hoffman up to face him.
Sorjoy grinned wickedly, “You know, to be honest, this suits you.” With that, Sorjoy allowed Hoffman to fall to the ground, landing on his stomach, his face smacking against the marble floor.
Sorjoy walked to the doors and was about to close them before he laughed to himself, “Dead men can’t close doors behind them, Erik.” He walked down the driveway, and to the front gate. Without a ride, Sorjoy just smiled to himself and started to walk back to the city. “Time to reflect,” he thought to himself as he looked up to the sky, “good luck sis.”
…
Shuttle Goodwill
Yuki sat sheepishly in front of Issla and Briggett after explaining Dei’s deception.
“That’s impossible!” Briggett shouted, “We’ve been going to Dei for years, how could they not know about us?! Not knowing that we have been giving them food?!”
Issla was much less skeptical, “It makes sense, Brigg. Why wouldn’t they allow us out of the ship?”
“Do you know how many people at the shuttle bay would have to be in on it?!” Briggett argued.
Issla shook her head, “Who did we ever see? No one from the loading team. The front windows are mirrored to prevent solar radiation from blinding us. Thomas probably didn’t even know, because we were expressly forbidden to speak Niten upon landing. Think about it, Briggett.”
Briggett was silent for a few moments, “But…”
“That’s why I had to sneak on board,” Yuki explained, “the organization, ‘The Scale’? They wanted to keep me on Nite so I wouldn’t expose their lies.”
Briggett looked to the medical bay, “So, the ‘Longivertis’ in the room then, if no one on Dei knows about Niten Dragons, then what is poor Thomas going to do when he discovers that Tarrabetha's a Dragon?”
All three women winced at the implications of Briggett’s observation.
“I have an idea,” Yuki explained, “you’re just going to need to trust me.”
…
A few hours later, a very groggy Thomas woke tied to a medical bed, “ugh… what happened?”
“Hey, Thomas,” Yuki said, floating in to see him waking, “how are you feeling?”
“Tara?!” Thomas said, smiling, “oh Tara, I-”
Yuki held up her hand, “I’m not Tarra.”
Thomas frowned, “Wait, so you lied to me?”
Yuki nodded, “Yes. I’m not the only one.”
“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, confused, and struggled against the medical restraints, “and why am I tied up?”
Yuki floated towards his bed, “You’re tied down, not up, and it’s because we’re in space.”
“What?!” Thomas blinked in confusion as Yuki floated near him, undoing his restraints, “How are we in space?!” Thomas shouted.
“The shuttle Goodwill?” Yuki explained as she continued to undo his restraints, “It’s an interplanetary vessel.”
“Interplanetary? What do you mean?” Thomas frowned.
“You’re going to need to believe me here, okay?” Yuki said, “My real name is Yuki Karkade.”
Thomas gave her an odd look, “where have I heard that name before…?”
“I was probably in the news a few months back for crashing on Nite,” Yuki explained.
Thomas’s eyes went wide, “What?! You survived?! How?”
Yuki took a deep breath, “Thomas, I need to ask you two important questions, one is about Tarra, the other is about me.”
Thomas gave Yuki a suspicious glance, “Okay,” he rubbed his wrists where the straps had held them, listening to Yuki.
“Would you love Tarra, no matter what she looked like?” Yuki asked.
Thomas nodded, “Yes. I’ve kind of… prepared myself for almost anything. But I love her, the chats we’ve had over the past few years have been what I’ve looked forward to each time I hear about Shuttle Goodwill coming our way.”
“Even if she was ugly, or disfigured?” Yuki asked.
“Yes,” Thomas explained, “I love Tara for her personality. I don’t care what she looks like. Guardian, you sound like Hammond.”
Yuki pressed on, “I ask because, you and me?” Yuki said, pointing to Thomas and then herself, “we’ve been lied to about Nite.”
“How so?” Thomas asked, concerned.
“This ship? It was built on Nite,” Yuki explained, cutting to the chase.
Thomas looked around, noticing the alien lettering on the doors and even on some of the equipment. “That’s impossible, the Nite Dragon’s are half a step up from animals.”
“No, they are not,” Yuki explained, “if anything, Thomas, they treat us like we’re the animals.”
Thomas scoffed, “Yeah, right! Why?”
“Well,” Yuki began, “on Nite, they don’t kill each other for resources. They work together, collectively, to obtain resources for their entire society.”
Thomas gave Yuki a look of disbelief, “and you’ve met these creatures? Spoken to them?”
Yuki nodded, “Yes. They accepted me, and I even learned their language.”
“Bullshit,” Thomas scoffed, “what’s that even sound like.”
“Zh neshem' kekh,” Yuki said in Niten.
“Not terribly convincing,” Thomas said, “you could just be spouting gibberish.”
Yuki sighed, “I just said ‘it sounds like this’, and what reason would I have to lie to you?”
“A cruel prank,” Thomas reasoned, “likely set-up by Hammond.”
Yuki sighed, “Tarra, Thomas is up, don’t come in yet. Just say ‘Hi’.”
Thomas turned to the doorway, where he heard Tarrabetha’s voice, though she sounded far less chipper than he remembered.
“Thomas? I-I’m so glad you’re here. I… I need you, I do,” Tarrabetha whimpered.
“Tara!” Thomas frowned, “what’s wrong?”
Tarrabetha sniffled, “I… I just… it’s just that… Yuki please let me see him!”
“Not yet, Tarra,” Yuki turned to Thomas, “I don’t want him to be afraid.”
Thomas looked to the door, “Tara, this woman says you’re a Dragon. Is she lying to me?”
“No,” Tarrabetha confessed.
“Did you think I was a Dragon?” Thomas asked.
“No!” Tarrabetha cried.
“What color is your skin, er, scales, if you’re a Dragon?” Thomas asked.
“Blue!” Tarrabetha said quickly.
Thomas glanced at Yuki, and then to the doorway, “Tarra, I want to see.”
Yuki turned to the door and gave a nod.
Tarrabetha slowly moved into the doorway, sheepishly looking to Thomas, and smiling a toothy grin, “Hi, Tom.”
Thomas blinked in surprise, and clumsily moved towards Tarrabetha, not handling zero-G very well.
Tarrabetha caught him, and grinned, “I’ll help you get used to the ship.”
Thomas chuckled, looking her up and down, “I… Wow. Huh…” Thomas looked her in the eyes, his hand moving over her smooth scales. “You know, Tara…” Thomas smiled, “you look beautiful.”
Tarrabetha beamed, hugging Thomas, “Oh and you’re just the cutest angel I’ve ever seen!”
Yuki heaved a sigh of relief, as did Briggett and Issla from the other room. Tarrabetha and Thomas’s joy was affecting the rest of the Crew, and it was much needed. At this point, the sooner they got back to Nite, the better. Yuki hadn’t felt Serren in so long, and now she wished she could sense him once more.
…
Dei
Teryn laughed happily while she tumbled into the limousine, clearly drunk, “Oh my God! They wouldn’t stop hitting on us!”
Cleo smiled at Teryn as she struggled to get into the limo, “Well that’s what happens when you flash the whole bar, Teryn!”
Teryn let out a series of disingenuous giggles as she failed at playing innocent, “Oh, Al’s in for a wild ride tonight!”
“I bet,” Mimi’s voice soon came from behind Cleo.
Cleo turned to Mimi, “Mimi! Funny running into you here!” She smiled wide.
“Not really,” Mimi smiled back, her beautiful light blue wings opening and closing purposefully as she took a deep inhale of her cigarette from its obsidian holder, “I just bought the place.” She wore a shimmering black dress over her shapely form, contrasting with Cleo’s white dress.
Cleo smiled, “Good to hear,” Cleo said as she shut the door to the Limo with Teryn inside.
“Yes,” Mimi smiled to Cleo, leaning in close, “I believe you have something for me… Persephone?”
Cleo reached into her purse and produced a palm-sized black velvet box.
Mimi’s eyes grew wide as she gently took it, opening the box with a breath of excitement.
Within the box were a pin, a small silver scale with blue gems set along the right side, and pure white diamonds on the left. The pin was not alone, however.
Within the same box was a golden necklace. The necklace’s chain was delicate, yet sturdy, for hanging from its middle was an emblem of three wolf heads, the centermost head was lined in gold and featuring violet gems for eyes. The other heads were lacking definition or eyes.
A smile crept over Mimi’s elegant face as her eyes looked up to Cleo.
“A thousand feathers?” Cleo asked.
Mimi closed the jewelry box swiftly, “For a single scale,” she gave a sly smile to Cleo, “Thank you, Persephone. You will not regret giving me access to The Scale.”
“Thank you for running Cerberus for me,” Cleo said with a smile.
A thud came from the Limo as Teryn slapped the window, glaring at Cleo and Mimi, her voice was muted as she shouted something.
Cleo opened the door, “Oh, sorry! Mimi was discussing something in private with me.”
Teryn adjusted her bust in her dress as she climbed out of the limo, “Mimi, I don’t work for you anymore, so-”
“I just wanted to make sure my VIPs had a good time,” Mimi smiled, “or did you not hear that I now own this establishment?”
“Wow really?!” Teryn beamed, “That’s awesome, Mimi!”
“Isn’t it?” Mimi smiled, turning on her stylish heels, “You two have a safe trip home…” she said, glancing back at the pair, “you never know what sort of terrible things can happen when you’re away.”
Cleo frowned as Mimi walked back into the club.
Teryn yawned, “come on Pat! Let's get going! If we wait any longer I won’t be drunk enough to have fun with Al!”
Cleo forced a smile to Teryn, “sure thing, let's get going.”
Teryn climbed into the limo once more, and Cleo followed suit.
Once inside Cleo was quiet as Teryn seemed to sober up.
“Pat? What did Mimi say?” Teryn asked.
Cleo’s eyes were watching the streets pass by, but she turned her attention to Teryn after a moment, “just some final business.”
“Your debt?” Teryn sighed, “Pat if you need money to pay her off, trust me, I’ll get Al to pay it.”
Cleo chuckled, “I doubt he would do such a thing.”
Teryn smiled knowingly, “Oh, please Pat! I have that man wrapped around my finger!” She pushed her forearms together, her hands out, showing her large diamond ring, but also forcing her cleavage together, “The girls can spring you!”
“Doesn’t he already get that?” Cleo chuckled.
Teryn grinned, “It’s the performance too yah’ know!” Teryn flashed her eyes at Cleo, and gave a mock pout with thick ruby lips, “but daddy,” she mockingly begged in a high pitched voice, “I need it so bad.”
Cleo laughed, “right, like that, actually works.”
“I’ve told you, Pat,” Teryn smiled as she leaned back, “it always works! Men are simple. You offer them sex? They’ll do anything. You offer them kinky sex? They’ll do things you never imagined.”
Cleo shook her head, “Not every man is motivated by sex.”
“Oh?” Teryn beamed to Cleo, “well then what else motivates men?”
Cleo looked out the window as they began to turn down the driveway of Hoffman’s estate, “Power.”
Teryn lifted a flawless eyebrow at Cleo, “yeah, well, the girls are all the power I need!” Teryn said, grabbing her large breasts for emphasis.
Cleo’s smile vanished as they pulled up to the driveway, and she spotted the opened front doors. “Please, forgive me someday, Teryn.”
Teryn’s smile vanished as she saw the front doors open, “Nabby! Stop the car! Let me out!”
Cleo stepped out of the limo once it came to a stop, pulling up her phone, “Teryn, don’t go inside, let me call the police!”
Teryn rushed up the stairs, “Al?! Al are you alright?!”
Cleo turned to Naberious, “Nabs! Stop her!”
Naberious nodded, running after Teryn.
Teryn had stopped at the top of the steps, looking down to see Hoffman’s lifeless body on the ground, his eyes frozen opened in shock.
Teryn screamed just as Naberious grabbed her and turned her from the scene.
Cleo turned away as the phone rang.
“Seraph City police department,” a male voice answered.
“I’m at Hoffman Estate, my name is Cleopatra Cassandra Walters,” she turned to the scene of Teryn screaming in hysterics as Naberious tried to rein her in, “...I think there might have been some kind of break-in. My friend, Teryn, is badly hurt.”
…
Shuttle Goodwill
Yuki smiled as Tarrabetha and Thomas floated through the ship.
Thomas was in awe of what he saw, and what Tarrabetha was telling him.
Briggett soon floated back, “Final burn out of Dei’s orbit is done. We’ve got a three-month journey ahead, hopefully, we can meet in a month’s time with the support shuttle.”
Yuki gave Briggett a nod, “It was a risk to launch like you did. Thank you.”
“It was a bigger risk to leave you out there,” Briggett sighed, “than to stay.”
Issla floated towards Yuki and Briggett, “I re-sent the message to Nite, but I still haven’t heard a confirmation yet.”
Briggett lifted an eyebrow, “that’s odd. Wonder why that is?”
Issla shrugged, “maybe I didn’t send it out correctly. Tarra’s normally the communications officer.”
Yuki turned to Thomas and Tarrabetha, “Tarra! We need some help with the comms!”
Tarrabetha heaved a sigh, “Can it wait a minute?”
Briggett glared at Tarrabetha, “Not unless you want to risk potentially missing our rendezvous with assistance!”
"Okay, fine," Tarrabetha growled, “it’s not like I’ve been waiting for years to see Tom!”
Thomas laughed, “We can stand a few more minutes apart.”
Tarrabetha grinned at Thomas and kissed the top of his head, “Okay, let me handle this, and then I’ll get back to telling you about Bronzi steaks!”
After a moment or two, she floated to the bridge and turned to the communication dashboard.
"Uh…" Tarrabetha grunted, adjusting some dials, "Issla… was this red indicator on when you sent the initial signal?" Tarrabetha asked, exasperated.
Issla floated behind Tarrabetha and gave her a nod, "Yeah. Why is it not supposed to be on?"
“If that red light is on it means that our communications array isn’t working…” Tarrabetha flipped a few switches, the console powering down for a moment. As she worked to start it back up, she saw multiple red warning lights, “...and that means we’re radio silent.”
“What?!” Yuki shouted, she turned to Briggett, “We have to turn around and refuel on Dei! We have no choice!”
Briggett’s face was stone, “We… can’t.”
“What do you mean we ‘can’t’?” Yuki asked, floating towards Briggett.
“The last of our fuel was used to launch, and burn us out of Dei’s orbit,” Briggett hung her head low, “we only have enough fuel for minor course correction. But we have no way to turn around.”
Tarrabetha frowned, “Then our only chance is to see if we can get outside of the ship and repair the array.”
Yuki glanced at Briggett, “I don’t have a spacesuit, do any of you?”
Briggett nodded, “it’s risky, but we do have two.”
“So who goes?” Issla asked.
“I’ll go,” Briggett volunteered, “I got us into this mess, I’ll be the one to get us out.”
Yuki’s heart sank, “If we can’t fix the array… no one will know we’re in trouble.” she looked out the window, a mournful look on her face and in her heart, “Oh, Serren. I’m so sorry my mate. I never should've left you.” Yuki heaved a sigh, “Please, Guardian, let me and my child return to Serren.”
...
Nite
Serren shot up from a deep sleep on Rezzolina’s couch, his heart racing, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath after roaring in terror.
“Serren?!” Rezzolina rushed out of her bedroom, haphazardly tossing on a robe and nearly tumbling down the steps leading down to her living room.
“Yuki!” Serren screamed, “She’s hurt!”
Rezzolina placed her hand over his snout as she knelt next to Serren on the couch. She cradled her younger brother tenderly, wrapping her wings around him, “Yuki is with her own people, Serren. I already got confirmation that the ship landed on Dei yesterday. They will not be launching until three days from now.”
“You don’t understand!” Serren protested, looking up to Rezzolina, “I saw it!”
“You saw a nightmare,” Rezzolina said with a comforting smile, “I know you miss her and you’re worried. If it’s causing you so much distress, I can talk to the crew psychologist and see if he’ll allow you to reach out to her.”
Serren shook his head, “Something terrible has happened,” he gave a pleading look to Rezzolina, “Please, Rezza, believe me?”
Rezzolina heaved a sigh, and kissed his forehead, “I’ll check tomorrow when I get in, okay? I promise.”
Serren gave a nod, “Okay, but please, promise me you’ll ask if something is wrong? Please?”
“I promise,” Rezzolina looked to the clock on the wall, “I have to go into the office in a few hours anyway… how about I make us some coffee and you can get a headstart on studying?”
Serren gave a solemn nod as Rezzolina stood up and he glanced at the small living room table covered in notes and medical books. “Please, Guardians, Watch over Yuki.”
For this particular prayer, only one Guardian was listening.

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