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(Forbidden fruits do taste better and sweeter; we were brought back to earth with the clearing of a throat. We sprung apart and saw standing there; hands akimbo with flames literally bellowing from her head was Sharon………)

To say I was shocked was an understatement; I couldn’t fathom for the life of me whether I hadn’t locked the door when I had brought Mirabel in or whether Sharon had used her spare key into my house. All I knew was that she was standing there in flesh and blood with all the fury blazing in her eyes as she stood there, hands akimbo staring daggers at me and Mirabel. I sneaked a look at Mirabel and could see the look of pure terror mixed with chagrin on her face, she was like a little child caught by the momma stealing from the sweet jar. She wouldn’t look at me and I could see her lips were trembling. Oh how I longed to take her into my hands and comfort her, tell her she was safe with me and that nothing or nobody could hurt her. All this perhaps took place within the space of a minute or there about and at last I found my voice.
‘Sharon what are you doing here?’ I asked lamely, the question sounded stupid to the three of us and I winced mentally as I realized the stupidity of it.

Sharon didn’t answer, she took one look at me and hissed and in the twinkle of an eye, she swooped upon Mirabel who was still sitting with her legs crossed. It happened too fast and I hadn’t seen it coming, Sharon was like a tigress wounded, she attacked with a vengeance and that day I came to understand the meaning of Shakespeare’s ‘Hell hath known no fury like a woman scorned.’ She scratched Mirabel’s porcelain face with her Jezebel fingers and pulled at the girl’s Brazilian hair. Mirabel screamed out in pain and cringed back but Sharon was on a mission of vendetta and I quickly jumped up and tried to hold her back. She screamed then, a high pitched wail that sounded like a widow’s cry or perhaps I should say an Indian’s cry of war. It was a battle, she kicked at me and flung herself without mercy, I fell on the floor with her in a tangle of bodies and she lashed out, crying and cursing at the same time. The tears flowed as her anger poured out and I tried to avert most of her blows by blocking my face, I could hear Mirabel’s soft whimpering in the background as she begged Sharon to stop and calm down. They only fueled her anger as she stopped pummeling me and attacked Mirabel with a speed and energy I hadn’t known she was capable of before. At this stage, I had had enough and I held her back firmly and gave her a slap. She reeled backwards and the slap must have dazed her because she stared at me in shock for a minute then she went soft. She whimpered like a wounded dog and the tears welled up in her eyes and the flood of tears was let loose. She snatched her bag from where she had dropped it and ran out the door with the tears streaming down her face.

I wasn’t bothered about that as I made for Mirabel who was crying softly, I crouched and took her in my arms, stroking her scattered hair softly as I whispered into her ears, soothing her and assuaging her fears. She said she wanted to go home and I pleaded with her to stay with me and not let Sharon’s actions disrupt our evening but she kept on pleading that she needed to rest from the day’s events. I could tell she was feeling guilty with all that had happened as she wouldn’t meet my eyes, she kept on averting my look and when we kissed goodbye, her lips were unresponsive; not the warm and loving sensation that had been there before. She boarded a taxi with tears in her eyes and a part of me felt like stopping that taxi and taking her in my arms till her fears were gone. Just as I got walked back into the house, my phone rang and I picked it up. It was the voice of………..

To be continued

Posted by Poshkid Charming
www.poshkidcharming. Follow at @PrinceTeardrop

To view this post with its pictures visit http://poshkidcharming./2013/06/30/another-quarter-gone-half-the-cup-full/

The Story
The last three months have been terrific, terrific in the sense that I have had a fruitful quarter. So many things have happened during these last three months and I can only look back in gratitude. For those that were opportune to have read my first ever post on the blog; ‘A Quarter Too Late,’ they will realize the changes that have taken place.

I remember that day when we were having the usual routine of coming to talk about the things we have achieved in the last three months of the year and how I had been dumfounded when dad asked me the things I have been up to and what I hope to achieve in the next three months. Then it had been a quarter too late, and it was all simply because I hadn’t been focused. I had been too carried away with the frivolities of teenage-hood to have realized I was wasting away precious time doing nothing profitable. Sitting at that table three months ago, I had been so desperate, trying to come up with something to say.

Walking to the table however last night was different, I walked majestically with my head up and my shoulders in a regal manner. I wasn’t intimidated by my lack of nothing to show this time around, because the last three months to me have been productive. The last three months, so many changed have taken place that I have become a shadow of the boy I used to be. Perhaps I wouldn’t even view myself as a boy no more, a young man growing into adulthood and understanding the responsibilities of life and the intricacies of the world. I grinned from ear to ear as we all took our seats at the table and waited for dad to start the age-long ritual of talking about the things we have done within the last three months. As was the custom, the eldest usually got to speak first so I waited my turn. My brother took the spot and spoke at length about the goals he had set for himself the last quarter and the ones he has been able to achieve and the ones still in the works. Dad was proud of him and beamed with the obvious adulation of a proud father. I snickered to myself and drummed my fingers against the table, fidgeting in my seat as I waited for my turn to come. My second brother took his turn and having always been one who didn’t talk much, he just gave us a quick summary of what has been happening with him and at last it was my turn.

My moment in the spotlight and I wasn’t about to rush it, I was going to savour the moment and relish in the taste of success. None of them had been aware of my activities, all they had known was that I seemed majorly occupied with things but they had all taken it as me having a new addiction on the internet. Boy were they wrong, I couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when I told my story. I cleared my throat and adjusted in my seat, their faces were turned to me; expectant. I looked from one to the other and quickly started when I saw the raised brow and impatient look on dad’s face.

I told them of how I had been so ashamed from last quarter’s meeting and wanted to do something worthwhile. After thinking of the things I could do, I had consulted a friend who had pushed me to take my writing a bit more seriously and even encouraged me to get a blog of my own. Having always had mixed feelings about my write ups I was a bit skeptical but he was adamant and in the end, I gave in. little did I know what I was getting into; I was apprehensive doing the first post ‘A Quarter Too Late’  but I was overwhelmed by the receptiveness of the readers. For a post on my blog, it was a major success for me and soon I was meeting people that wanted to do stuffs with me just because they thought I was good. I told them of the challenges I had, those moments of insecurities when I felt I wasn’t good and that maybe people actually laughed at my back and shook their head in pity. I shared the goodness of my close buddy, Dre and Generis that kept me going, their major supports and motivation and how things started changing. Three sites contacted me to write for them; at this point I couldn’t help being dramatic again. I paused for dramatic effect and looked round at all of them. Dad was staring at me with this half smile on his lips, mum was flushed with pride and my two brothers were staring in open admiration. For the first time, I felt I had done something right in everybody’s sight and I felt this elation in my stomach and the butterflies fluttered happily.

The three months had not been all a bed of roses either, the challenges were there. For instance it was hard trying to maintain school with all the writing when there was so much to do. Neither was I ready to give up my social life so I still had to create time to have fun. I told them of the doubts I still had but how that was always quickly taken care of by Dre and Generis, the duo that have been my biggest fans and kept pushing me to do things that even I didn’t know I could do. I told them of a post that I had wanted to do but was too scared to do because of its controversial nature and how Dre had pushed so much and even threatened to quit talking to me and eventually I wrote it. Till date it has been the best post ever written on the blog with the highest number of views and comments, who did I have to thank but him. The last three months I have met people I didn’t know before and now work with them to make myself much better.

By the time I finished, I was out of breath and I sat back in my chair to get myself back together. Dad had this to say: ‘Do us proud boy.’ That was enough for me, the next three months just had to be more successful so I can hear those words again and have the admiration. Who doesn’t love the limelight or the praise of their loved ones?

The update will come soon enough

Ice4jez: bro i beg u too make sense.when is d next update

Very soon

What do I know about love other than those silly love stories that romance authors spin to us in their novels? I have always been of the opinion that love doesn’t exist, at least the ideal romantic love that is preached. It is said that love is faithful, kind, trustworthy, forgiving and all those crap that they talk about but I believe that the human heart is just unworthy of feeling something this pure so what we actually mistake for love is mere affection mixed with lust and we call that love.

I have always been of this school of thought until I met her; Sharon was different from all the types of girls I have come in contact with; soft spoken with a sharp wit that excited me. I had known her for close to two years without actually meeting her in person since she said she schooled in Abuja but actually resided in Lagos. How I had first come across Sharon was one of those random online dating sites that boring people signed up for. When I signed up for the site, I wasn’t really looking for anything so when Sharon added me, we were just online chat mates. Little did we know that fate had more in stock for us than we planned, a friend of Sharon’s happened to be my school mate and we belonged to the same club, Junior Chamber International (JCI) although I didn’t know she was a friend to Sharon  (it wasn’t as if Sharon meant anything to me).

Mirabel was a sweet girl that any man would be proud to have, beautiful and smart with a charming personality, I liked her and decided to give dating a trial with her. We were a power couple, everybody envied us and we got tired of hearing how good we were together. Things went smoothly with Mirabel for the first two months then she started showing some unsavoury character. Mirabel was a notorious flirt and had the habit of excessive clubbing; she was a party animal and although I am not avast to the idea of anyone having fun, Mirabel’s was just too much. The clubbing and partying I could handle but when her cheating started getting out of control, I decided to call it quits and pick up the pieces of my ‘broken heart’ and move on. The ever soft-spoken and soothing Sharon was there to share in my pain and console me. She was my strength during those two months of getting over Mirabel’s infidelity; to me I had wasted those ten months spent with Mirabel. Just when I thought I was over Mirabel, Sharon decided to drop her own bombshell; she opened up that she actually had feelings for me and hadn’t wanted to tell me so that she won’t ruin the relationship between us. If I had thought I was shocked, I don’t know what I would describe the next emotion when she said she was actually friends with Mirabel. She revealed that they were secondary school friends and were still in touch even if they were not particularly too close. I was dumfounded, angry at first for her deceit in not having told me all this while that I was dating Mirabel but then I realized it wasn’t all too important because of the new feelings that had been awakened in me.

I cannot call Sharon my rebound from Mirabel because I know I am over her now but suddenly I realized that I actually cared for Sharon more than I should. I told Sharon how I felt and that is when she decided to drop another bombshell; she was an ex-girlfriend to Sharon’s brother who was an arch enemy of mine. Michael and I never hit it off right from the first meeting because he was one of those pompous jerk-ass that thinks the world revolves around them and having nerver been one to like pride, in my usual blunt manner I had told him straight to his face and since then he hated my guts. I suspect his hatred came not from having told him to his face he was proud but rather from the fact that he secretly conceded I am right. I asked Sharon what was going to happen now and she told me she would be coming to Lagos that weekend and would be around for about six months.

I was excited and thrilled, I was going to finally meet this new person that has reawakened the feelings I wasn’t sure I was capable of again. I don’t think its love since I don’t believe in it but it comes closest to it as possible. In my excitement, I could smell trouble though; Sharon had hinted that Michael was still heavily in love with her and that he was pestering her badly. I could imagine him his fury when he finds out that I am the man preventing him from having his love. Not only am  I the supposed devil that had broken his sister heart when in truth she had been the flirt that cause the break up, I am also the girlfriend thief. That week I was in a state of confusion and happiness, confused because I didn’t know what to do about the whole matter and happy because of this new found feelings. I confided in my best friend, Andy who simply told me to be careful about the whole matter.

Sharon came to Lagos as planned and came over to my house as already agreed the next day, it was divine and short of the feeling of finding oneself in paradise. She was even more beautiful than her pictures were and she wasn’t shy which is one attribute I have always detested in a lady. I don’t like unnecessary coyness and the conversation flowed effortlessly, we talked about many things ranging from what we have been up to and the things we planned on doing. Her lips were inviting and tempting and before realizing myself, I took her in my arms and kissed her softly on the lips. Her look of surprise changed to an emotion of pure joy that encouraged me and I slowly parted her lips and delved into that honey well. Stars exploded in my brain and I pulled her to me, she pulled at my shirt as if for dear life and we were lost in paradise. Forbidden fruits do taste better and sweeter; we were brought back to earth with the clearing of a throat. We sprung apart and saw standing there; hands akimbo with flames literally bellowing from her head was Mirabel……….

To be continued

Check out more cool stories at www.poshkidcharming.

Really I am not the type that likes mixing business with pleasure but sometimes some things usually get out of control and before you realize it, you are onto something you won’t do normally. Amanda was one of those girls that share the same passion with me, we are both lovers of literature and we had met at a dinner party organized by a friend. She was seated by my right and had saved me from the boring and mindless talk of a science geek seated by my left at the table. The guy though through no fault of his had mistaken me for a science lover and had kept droning on and on about this new experiment he was working on. I had kept an interested face out of politeness so as not to hurt the poor dude’s feeling while deep inside I was yawning with boredom. I know how painful it could be when you want to share your work with somebody and you are met with disinterest. Amanda is one very perspective lady and she had seen through my feigned interest. Immediately a light music started playing from the live band in attendance, she had stood up in that gorgeous blue evening gown that I will never forget and smiled this saccharine-sweet smile at the science geek. She was a charmer quite alright, she asked him if she could borrow me for a minute for this dance as it was her favourite song and that was how I got saved.

I was more than relieved and I took her hands and quickly escaped to the dance floor with her. The first thing she said to me was, I know how bored you must be with all that mumbo jumbo crap that guy was yarning about. She saw the surprised look on my face and smiled that smile of hers. We danced to the song and I found out she was quite a good dancer. As the music came slowly to an end, she asked if I was ready to go back to our seat, the expression on my face was my answer and we that we fled to the balcony and that’s where we got talking. She was a National Diploma II (ND 2) Business Administration student of a polytechnic near my school and she had been invited by her friend. We talked like we had known each other all our lives and that’s when I found out she was also a writer and owned a whole website. I was excited and we shared our dreams; mine about my plans and aspirations for my blog and hers for her website. We exchanged contacts and bade each other goodbye at the end of the party.

At this point in time, there was no attraction just platonic friendship between two people that shared the same interest although I did notice that she was an attractive girl. We became quite close after that party night as I called her the next day and she invited me for a drink later that evening just to hang out and talk more. I met her in one of the restaurants in her school and we just talked on and on about things. She told me more about herself, she had a distant boyfriend in Ibadan and she was not really sure about the state of things, she also showed me some of the things she had done and I reciprocated by showing her some of my write ups too.

We had known each other for quite a couple of weeks when she invited me for a house party that one of her friends was organizing and asked if I would like to be her date. I replied in the affirmative and just as we had agreed I accompanied her on that day. That was when things spiraled out of control, Amanda had a little bit too much to drink and she stared acting funny. She became all clingy and started getting romantic on me, touching me intimately and whispering sweet nothings. I was confused, I didn’t know if it was the alcohol working or if she was in control because she kept saying she was fine and knew what was doing. For the first time we kissed, and it wasn’t just a kiss. It was one of those deep ones that usually seem to last forever, we left the party early and went over to my place where we made out and talked. We laughed and talked and did more making out. She left in the early hours of the morning saying she had some things to do.

Now we are both avoiding bringing up that night because we don’t really know what the other might be thinking. I want to ask her but don’t know if she remembers or if she will feel embarrassed by her actions that night. We have both gone back to the way we used to be, talking about things of interest but avoiding anything that has to do with romance; I like to remember that night as the night of stolen kisses.

www.poshkidcharming.

I had totally recovered from the gunshot wound that I sustained during my night date with Rachael not knowing that this day was going to hold another horrible experience for me. School was unbelievably dull and I was bored out of my mind, it was a lecture free day and I just wanted to go out badly and luckily for me, the same was applicable to my best friend, Andy.
The whole incident started around 3:30pm when we decided to call one of our good friends, Joe. Joe was the kind of guy that there was never a dull moment around and he was the best option for us to call since we were itching to have fun. Andy dialled his number and sure enough he said there was a party going on at Festac and that we could come join him; he also said Funsho (one of our friends we hadn’t seen in a while was with him). It wasn’t such a good idea, not only was Festac too far for starters, we weren’t too boxed up to go such a far distance. Andy tried to reason with me but I wasn’t having any of it, I was in party mood and was not going to let anything spoil my opportunity of having one. As if reading our minds, Joe promised to pay our bills and said we could get a straight taxi back to school. Andy was of the opinion that it was too late to set out to Festac from University of Lagos (Unilag) but I wasn’t hearing none of it, I took his hand and practically dragged him to the Campus Shuttle and our journey began.
Mother Nature herself was against our outing because just as the bus drove out of school, heaven let down its fury and a heavy downpour began. Andy looked at me with that ‘I told you so’ look in his eyes but I flashed him an engaging smile and he was forced to smile back. We disembarked from the bus and entered another; an old, smelly, rickety bus that I found annoying because it was leaky and water kept dripping on my lap. After what seemed like an eternity, we got to our bus-stop with no sign of the rain abating and we were forced to enter. We had agreed to meet Joe at a particular place but he wasn’t at the rendezvous. As if to show her displeasure with us, the rain increased in force and within minutes we were soaked. My bubble began to quiver a little as the time was 6:25pm by now and we were standing there in the rain with no money to take us both back to school and no Joe in sight. We started making frantic phone calls and he kept giving excuses about where he was. I started to shiver because the area we were was famous for its robbery stories and I was beginning to question the sanity of the whole journey. We were drenched already so the party wasn’t going to be rocking as I had earlier thought, I tried to distract Andy who was silently fuming but he was having none of it, he only talked when Joe finally arrived about 45 minutes later and it was to rebuke Joe for having kept.
We set out on the second part of our journey but we were unable to get a taxi because of the heavy downpour and we were forced to start trekking. We had been walking for about ten minutes when we suddenly heard heavy footsteps behind us and like a scene from a movie; six hefty and mean looking men were surrounding us. Two of them were wielding a gun while the remaining four brandished a cutlass and in a guttural voice one of them asked us to quietly bring out our valuables. Andy’s shivering metamorphosed into a full out wailing and he started bawling like a baby. They ordered him to keep quiet but he just kept at it, joining his tears with the torrents of the rain. Angrily one of the men dealt him a slap, and he spun round before falling to the ground holding his cheeks. They started kicking him mercilessly and I cried out, I dropped to the ground and protected his body with mine. The first booted leg hit me in the stomach with a dull thud and pain coursed through my body. The blows and kicks kept on coming and at a point I lost consciousness; I came around with Andy and Joe hovering over me. Andy’s face was bleeding while Joe seemed to have fared the best of us though his Armani shirt was stained with blood, they lifted me up and I realized I could barely walk, I had to rely on them for support and that’s when I noticed Andy was limping as well.
We walked to the guest house where Joe said he was lodged at a very slow pace with my whole body aching over. Without a word, Joe put us in a waiting taxi and paid the cab driver. My BlackBerry phone was gone and so was Andy’s iPhone 5 plus his gold chain that his uncle had given him just about a month ago for his birthday and his pure silver wristwatch.
We got back to school around 11pm, without a word Andy handed me a note he had been writing in the taxi and limped away. I supported myself against a pillar outside the hostel and unfolded the paper. He had written:
“We were set up; we lost our valuables while Joe lost nothing plus I just remembered that Funsho is not in the country, he went for his brother’s wedding in Canada last week according to his girlfriend.”
I still suffer from the pain of that beating and have the bruises healing to remind me of the painful memories of that night. Andy and I are not talking terms because of the episode but really am I the only one to blame?

http://poshkidcharming./2013/06/03/night-of-horror-2-best-friend-episode/

Posted by Poshkid Charming: Writer and Presenter. kindly drop your replies, comments and suggestions. Follow at @PrinceTeardrop

We all have it, yes even you do; we all got a death wish. Without even knowing it, it grows in us and we sometimes act without realizing it is the one pushing us. We behave strangely or act abnormally just for the ‘fun’ of it but really deep down it’s just a death wish. Like crossing an expressway when there is a pedestrian bridge or sitting on the railing of a balcony of a storey building.

I sometimes go crazy in my head and get this death wish; to die young. To die in a blaze of glory and eternal youth; a state of being where I know not the troubles of old age or the strain of an old mind. There is nothing as sweet as the soft, silky, smooth skin of youth and when you are at your peak. Maybe it comes from having seen too many old people battle with aging diseases. It makes me too scared of wanting to grow old into an old man, weak and frail. Don’t want to lose my youthful exuberance and become dependent on life support or another human for survival.

However, I don’t just want to die young, I want to go in a blaze of glory and fame. Having done all I want to do and perhaps even more than I could ever wish. I will forever be a believer in the saying that ‘it is not how long but how well one lives.’ Though short, I want to have achieved something tangible that will act as the legacy I left behind. I want to leave a mark so that I wouldn’t just have passed through, let the world know that I did my own and made the world a bit different.

I sometimes find it hard to understand why people shed tears for the dead, it doesn’t bring them back neither does it change the world. Too much fuss is made about death and I have one thought on this; people only death win when they cry for the dead rather than celebrate their achievements no matter how little. Why sit around and wallow in tears when we can accept the card life has dealt us and make the most of it. Remember them when they lived and had something to offer the world, the tears shed together and the joys shared. The happiness they brought and the impact they made, nothing is significant. Take not pictures of them in death but gaze upon the pictures of when they exuded vitality and life.

I find the concept of death fascinating, to realize that someday one will cease to walk the earth but go six feet under. People will talk about you, both good and bad and you will be no more to either bask in their compliments or defend yourself against criticism. I sometimes wonder what people will say when I am long gone and what legacy I would have succeeded in leaving behind. Though many will say I am too young to keep myself preoccupied with the thoughts of death, the world has come to teach me that no one is too young to die and people shouldn’t be mourned on the basis of age but how they lived. I am not afraid of death but I don’t want to die just yet; not till I do the things I want to do. Then will I sit down and fold my arms, a man content waiting for that final journey home, to a place of solace free from the world’s strife and struggle.

http://poshkidcharming./2013/06/02/twisted-dark-death-fantasy/

Dear little one of mine
Today I feel right and fine
Without liquor in hand
A right state of mind
I take this pen to paper
While yet you still in diapers
I write you with the utmost discretion
While your mother pays this insane mind no attention

Follow not in my path little one
For me, my life is done
Bad decisions has been my undoing
I reflect on them as I lie on this bed musing
Take not to the bottle
Never at all after you leave the enchantment of the rattle
Take delight not in the arms of a loose woman
Be upright and a good family man

Shun not the wisdom of an educated mind
For in books, great knowledge shall thee find
My time is up and I lie here old and frail
My death shall not herald societal wail
A man of no dignity and importance
Strive to be a man of influence
Never accept to be a dreg of society
A man with fine principles of morality



Death’s winged chariot hurries near
I live with no fear
Just this emptiness that fills me and regrets
Of vain pleasures that I sought
In the days of my youth while yet in my prime
Do well so that thou may thrive
The world gives us equal opportunities
Waste yours not on frivolities

www.poshkidcharming.
Posted by Poshkid Charming: Blogger and Creative Writer

"Thank you for ruining my life. You have been a very good friend but I think you should stay away from me. I have just come to realize that I can never be like you and I don’t think I even want to be anymore.” (Extracted from ‘Over the Edge’)

It was just like the first time, his call came in at the oddest of hours; he called around 5.am in the early hours of the morning to tell me that he was coming back to Lagos and he wants to see me. When I first saw the call, my hand shook with trepidation as I wondered what could be wrong again. The last time he had called me was to tell me to stay away from him and announce that I had been a part of his ‘ruining’ his life.     

I told him he could see me anytime he came around and that I will always be available for him. Our separation as friends had come when he believed that I had pushed him to make some decisions that had led him to the hands of some cult guys and also ended in him contracting a Sexually Transmitted Disease (STD).

He called me as soon as he arrived in Lagos and said he had to see me first before going home. We met at our usual hang out spot when things had been right between us and for the first few minutes we stared at each other awkwardly with neither of us knowing what to say to the other. He cleared his throat uncomfortably several times and I fidgeted in my sit as I pinned my stare on him and waited for him to talk. I didn’t want to be the first person to say anything since I didn’t know whether to apologize for having pushed him or whether to yell at him for the stupid decisions he had made and the end results and his trying to blame me for them. In the end I finally opened my mouth and asked him how his health was and how he was faring.

That was the opening ground; he suddenly loosened up and reminded me of that person I used to know. He told me that he was much better now and was treating the STD, he told me about how it had been challenging trying to gain his parents trust back and how his life was beginning to get back together. Then the magic happened, he apologized for having been over the top in blaming me for the whole incident that happened. He said he has come to realize that every man his responsible for his own destiny and therefore I may have influenced some of his decisions didn’t mean that I had to be responsible for his mistakes.

I heaved a sigh of relief and told him I was sorry too, for having been too hard on him and trying to make him something he clearly wasn’t made out for. I promised to be more understanding and let him grow at his own pace since everybody was different. After the entire world is an interesting place because of our diversity. I sure am glad to have my bestie back.                     

For a better understanding of this, you may like to check out the write up "Over The Edge" on the blog.

Posted by Poshkid Charming
http://poshkidcharming./2013/05/19/wrong-turns-right-a-sequel-to-over-the-edge/
@PrinceTeardrop