Porsche window sticker

I (24f) and bf (25m) lived with my roomate (24f) for years. My roommate and i were the only 2 on the lease. Thise means both our bfs (her bf is also 25m) were always "guests"
My BF would always park in the guest lot about a half mile away, while my roommates bf would park in the lot I should be able to park In.
My bf worked at 5am.... but he still walked through the rain and snow to his car the half mile.
I would work until 11pm and go in at 5am often. So u can imagine how pissed I'd be coming home at midnight to no parking spot and 6" of snow.
One night I had enough. I walked my 1/2 mile inside where my bfs roommate was sleeping soundly :)
So, the next day I walked back to my car
and before class drove to managment.
I told managent about the car and by the time I drove back to grab my backpack it was stickered.
These stickers are impossible to remove. U basically have an hour of shame while everyone watches u scrape the drivers window clear of said sticker.
He also ruined my $500 nonstick pans with metal, after I expressed concerns over 5 times in 2 months and asked him repeatedly not to use them.
He never parked there again, or used my pans.
Am I petty or the AH

My window sticker price does not match that on the order summary. Has this happened to anyone else?
The window sticker shows $76,974 base versus $74,474 and an additional $100 for max trailer. I thought price was locked when you convert to an order? The window sticker is showing $82,304 versus $79,564 that I expected.

Starting to warm up here in Ohio, with forecast calling for temperatures around 90 F or 32.2 C and I figured this weekend would be a good time to set up my air conditioner in the window.
Small problem.
The filter I had been using in that unit for the last eight years or so is well and truly shot.
According to the sticker on the unit, it's a Continental Electric. Should I therefore try to limit my Amazon shopping list to filters just for that particular make and model or may I be a bit more "open-minded" in my search?
I'm trying to keep the price around $20 USD

We all have problems as kids, right?
But they’re not adult problems. Those come later.
Kid problems are much easier to deal with. Kid problems might seem ridiculous now, but back then they were practically the end of the world for some of us. Playground politics was a thing—who was friends with who. If we didn’t wear nice clothes, kids would laugh. If we didn’t like the things other kids liked, we were weird. We were a hive-mind, obsessed with being liked, being appreciated and accepted. High school sucks, sure, but elementary school is just as bad. Nobody says it these days so I will.
Kids can be fucking cruel.
I remember my biggest problem that morning being that I hadn’t gotten the new Pokémon game—Diamond and Pearl, I think it was called. I’d begged my parents for a Nintendo DS when it came out and had opened up a brand new light pink DS Lite on my 10th birthday, the day before. I wanted the game that all the other kids were playing, but according to mom it was too expensive. Instead, I got Barbie Horse Adventures: Summer Camp.
Needless to say, I wasn’t thrilled with it.
It was raining that day.
I remember watching big, fat raindrops run down the classroom window, my head pressed to my desk and turned towards looming grey clouds. I liked pretending the raindrops were racing each other and mentally cheering them on.
I was too embarrassed to pull out my DS practically burning a hole in my skirt. I’d made the stupid mistake of telling everyone I was getting the new Pokémon game for my birthday, and the idea of admitting to them that I actually hadn’t—instead having some stupid Barbie game that I was pretending I liked—was making my stomach twist.
Still though, the rain was nice to watch. Since the weather wasn’t that great, we’d been strictly told to stay inside, though some kids had decided to ignore the teacher and go outside anyway so the classroom was mostly empty. I was watching one particular raindrop dance across the glass, when a laugh startled me out of my thoughts. When I lifted my head, I saw the usual suspects gathering around Lily’s desk.
They were bullying her again.
Licey Lily. That’s what everyone called her. Mom told me to stay away from the girl—though I think that was a universal thing all the parents told their kids. Lily came to school with clothes which didn’t fit her and holes in her socks and her shoes falling apart around her feet. When I sat behind her, sometimes I’d glimpse red markings on her wrist and her ankles. Lily didn’t wear winter clothes when it snowed. I remember when she came in late one day and wasn’t even wearing a coat. I’d heard from other kids her parents didn’t look after her, while others spread a rumour that she was an orphan. Lily had thick blonde curls that fell in front of her face in tangles and knots. Mrs Lewis tried to help her. She was maybe the only one who cared.
Mrs Lewis made sure Lily had a thick, woolly coat to play outside in. When Lily walked into class with her hair looking like a bird's nest, Mrs Lewis made it look pretty again. I liked Lily’s hair when it was brushed and in ribbons.
In kindergarten I was convinced she was a princess because her hair, despite being messy, looked like it was glowing, caught up in ethereal light from the sun.
I was sure the other kids were jealous. That was why they bullied her.
That day Lily’s hair didn’t look pretty—she didn’t look like a princess. The bright red ribbons Mrs Lewis had put in on Friday were still clinging to clumpy tangles of blonde, and she was wearing the same knitted cardigan she was wearing on Friday over a creased skirt and shoes that were too big for her. Though it wasn’t her clothes, or even the state of her hair that had attracted her usual tormentors. Lily had been scratching her head all the way through class. It wasn’t like normal though. Usually, she idly scratched maybe once or twice, but that day it had been a constant scratch, scratch, scratch all the way through class. Of course Scarlett Maine noticed.
The girl had waited until Mrs Lewis left the classroom before sidling over to Lily’s desk.
“Do you even wash your hair, Licey Lily?” Scarlett had dark hair pulled into pigtails that bobbed when she giggled. She leaned towards Lily. Scarlet acted older than she was—probably because she had a sister in high school. “My mom said only dirty kids like you get lice, and your hair is so gross.”
Lily didn’t move, her mess of blonde curls hanging in front of her face.
“Hey.” Scarlett grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged violently, “Licey Lily, why aren’t you talking to us?” She jumped back suddenly with a choked laugh. “Urgh, you can see them! They’re wriggling in her hair!”
“Scarlett.” I said. “Cut it out.”
I was ignored. If I tried to stop it, I knew what would happen. It always happened. Anyone who tried to help Lily, or told Mrs Lewis about the bullying, either got outcasted or bullied too. I opened my mouth to speak again, louder this time, but the others were in their own world—like tormenting Lily was their own personal fantasy and nobody could penetrate that little bubble of theirs. Freddie Caine who had been hovering over Scarlett with an identical cruel grin let out a disgusted snort. He grabbed Scarlett’s arm and the two of them stumbled back.
“I can see them!” He pointed, his eyes wide. “They’re all over her back! There are so many!”
More murmurs. Giggling. Some kids jumped up from their own desks and joined the growing crowd surrounding Lily. Freddie edged forwards like the desk was teeming with crawlies. “Did you make friends with them?” He whispered in Lily’s face. When the others laughed at that, Scarlett being the loudest, he shoved Lily hard.
“I bet you did.” Freddie grinned, “That’s why you’re always scratching. They’re your only friends.”
Scarlett nodded. Giggling, she rushed to her desk and grabbed her bag, pulling something out. The kids laughed harder. It was a water bottle—but it definitely wasn’t filled with water. Lily seemed to notice this too. She came back to life, lifting her head, glistening eyes widening in panic. I already knew what Scarlett was going to do, but nobody could stop her. Scarlett rounded Lily’s desk and held the bottle up high over the trembling girl’s head.
“Bath time!” Scarlett giggled, tipping the bottle.
I was aware of something that wasn’t water splashing down on a squeaking Lily’s head. She cried out, trying to shield herself. When she tried to jump up, tears welling in her eyes, Freddie and two other girls held her down. Scarlett didn’t stop until the bottle was empty and Lily was soaking wet, her cardigan glued to her, a huge wet patch on her skirt. When Lily lifted her head, her sopping knotted curls hung in clumps in front of her eyes. The bottle hit the ground and Freddie picked it up with a frown.
“What is that?” He sniffed it and pulled a face. “That stinks!”
The other kids murmured in agreement, and Scarlett shrugged. Her gaze pierced Lily, who was crying, her entire body trembling with the force of her sobs. “It’s apple juice, dummy! “ She said, “My mom wouldn’t let me fill my water bottle and my big sister was in the shower, so I got some apple juice from my dad’s office. It was on his desk.”
Freddie pinched his nose. “That’s not apple juice!” His voice was all nasally, “It smells like old socks! And it’s green!”
“You’re going to get in trouble.” Jasper Parker spoke up. He sat across from me and barely ever spoke- unless it was to brag about how smart he was. He’d been organising his gold sticker collection, though the splash had made him jump. He wasn’t smiling, though the muscles in his face were gradually contorting into one. Jasper wasn’t fooling me. I knew he only pretended to be nice so he could maintain his position as best student. He found it funny. I could see it in the sparkle in his eyes, his smirk when Scarlett and Freddie shoved Lily into her chair.
“Yeah?” Freddie’s gaze found Jasper’s. “Are you going to tattle, Goody Two Shoes?”
Jasper shrugged. “No.” He went back to his gold sticker collection, though his voice had softened a little. Goodie Two Shoes was his nickname in 3rd grade. Not just that—Jasper was obsessed with being the teacher’s pet. He had been as unpopular as Lily before bringing in Pokémon cards one day, and suddenly he was cool. Jasper had all the special sparkly ones he happily traded, so naturally the other kids had decided he wasn’t so bad after all. “She needed a bath. She stinks.”
“Stinky Lily!” Isabel Hades laughed, the others joining in – including Jasper, bowing his head further.
Ignoring them, Scarlett’s attention was on Lily, who had stood up, her hair dripping. All of her was dripping. Her clothes, her face—her eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and yet they still laughed, pushing and shoving her. “See?” Scarlett’s voice was sugary sweet. “I’m so nice, Licey Lily! I even gave your friends a bath!”
Lily didn’t speak. She only ran out of the classroom, the others laughter chasing her all the way down the corridor. When the girl was gone, the other kids returned to their desk and Scarlett acted like nothing had happened. Jasper grabbed a mop from the janitor's closet, lying that Lily had spilled her water and cleaned up the mess on his own. He always did that— always helping someone or doing something helpful for his own gain.
When Jasper was mopping up the mess, I was frowning at him.
Well, not him. Because we all knew if you looked at a boy for too long you would explode or get cooties.
I wasn’t looking at Jasper, or the giant spot on his chin. No. I was staring at the liquid pooling at his feet which definitely wasn’t water. It was a funny green colour, and it was maybe a little thicker. It reminded me of Nickelodeon slime if it had been watered down. The green so-called water was giving me the creeps. I was looking at it for maybe a little too long, because Jasper noticed my gaze when he looked up.
He didn’t look happy.
It was an unwritten rule that boy’s and girl’s didn’t talk to each other unless they wanted a song being made about them. I could still remember when Sara Jacobs and Josh Simons had been caught talking to each other together in the playground. The next day, everyone was talking about it—and Scarlett was skipping around the two of them, singing that stupid rhyme that always got stuck in my head.
“Sara and Josh sitting in a tree! K. I. S. S. I. N. G.”
Jasper bugged out his eyes. “What are you looking at?”
“What’s that you’re cleaning up?”
“Apple juice.” Jasper said, not sounding sure.
“Uh-huh.” I folded my arms. “And why are you cleaning it up? That’s Scarlett’s mess.”
He stuck out his tongue, going back to mopping up. “None of your beeswax.”
I scoffed. I’d picked up the other kids' taunts over the years—and they felt natural coming off my tongue, slick like honey. This is where I admit I was no different from the others.
“You’re just being a teacher’s pet as usual.”
Jasper didn’t lift his head, but I noticed his mopping slowed a little—his fingers tightening around the handle.
“I know your secret.”
“My secret?”
Jasper nodded. “You have a Barbie game.” He giggled. “I saw you playing it under your desk.”
“And?”
He scrubbed a little harder. “If you call me that again I’ll tell everybody you play Barbie games.”
Jasper had won.
I stood down.
Lily came back before class started again. Since it was raining, she matched a bunch of other kids who had gone outside to play in the shower. So she too had been yelled at by Mrs Lewis. The teacher had handed out towels so they could dry themselves, and it hadn’t been long before Freddie had snatched Lily’s and screwed it into a ball, throwing it to the back of the classroom. Lily trembled all the way through math. At first I thought it was because she was cold, but when I lifted my head from my drawing, I saw her body was quivering—her pale hands gripping her scalp, fingernails scratching at her forehead. She was whimpering to herself, hiding behind her book.
The scratching got worse until she curled into herself, her fingers clawing at her curls.
It was endless. The noise didn’t stop all the way through class.
When I was trying to answer questions, all I could hear was scratch, scratch, scratch. “Lily?” Mrs Lewis stopped explaining multiplication. “Are you okay?”
The girl’s head bobbed up and down in a sharp nod, and Mrs Lewis went back to teaching.
“Licey Lily.” Scarlett, who had insisted on sitting behind Lily, kicked the back of the girl’s chair.
“Her friends are dancing.” She said, loud enough for us to hear, but not the teacher.
Everyone giggled, and Lily scratched harder—until she was squeaking, scratting at her scalp.
I caught Jasper staring, his eyes wide. He wasn’t smiling or laughing like the others.
Instead, he was frowning at the floor where the mess had been.
At lunch it had stopped raining and I was relieved to get out of the classroom. I ate my lunch in the cafeteria before heading outside. There was a game of Tag happening, but the last time I’d joined in I’d ended up with skinned knees. Instead, I headed to the jungle gym—and there I found Lily. She was sitting on the very top, her legs dangling off the edge. Lily wasn’t wearing a coat and I remember feeling a chill down my spine when I noticed how pale her exposed arms were. The girl was shivering, her head of blonde curls pressed into her lap.
She was scratching again, scratching, scratching, scratching – and I swore when her fingers left her hair, I could see flecks of white stuck in her nails. Lily lifted her head. She wasn’t looking at me, her gaze on something else far away. It was the first time, I remember thinking—the first time I’d seen her face in a while. She always had her head bowed and was hiding behind her hair. Her cheeks were white, her lips twisted into a pained cry. “They won’t stop.” She was whispering to herself, her hands like claws going back into her hair and grasping at clumps of ratty gold and ragging violently. Her whole body shuddered, “They won’t stop.”
“They’re mean.” I said, “Don’t listen to them, okay? I like your hair. It’s really pretty!”
Lily didn’t respond, raking her fingernails down her face. “They won’t stop. Won’t stop. Won’t stop!”
Swallowing hard, I took slow steps towards her. “Lily?” I reached into my pocket to pull out my DS. My first thought was to let her play it. Maybe that might make her feel better. When I was pulling it out, though, Lily startled me with a shriek. “Stop!” Her hands balled into fists and she slammed them into her head, her sobs growing progressively more hysterical. Lily was running her hands through her hair and then staring down at the palms of her hands with a look of fright of terror. It hit me, then—that she wasn’t talking about Scarlett and the others. I felt myself take a slow step back. Lily was talking about the lice—the bugs crawling in her hair.
“Mommy.” Lily whimpered, her shaking fingers entangled with knotty curls. “I want my mommy.”
“I’ll get Mrs Lewis.”
But Lily wasn’t listening. She was swaying slightly, squeezing her eyes shut.
When I ran back inside, lunch had ended and everyone was heading to class. I flew directly into Mrs Lewis in my rush. Normally, I’d squeak out an apology or run away, but the words were already streaming from my mouth before I could help them. I could still see Lily in my mind—swaying back and forth, her eyes flickering, the red staining her fingernails. “It’s Lily!” I shrieked. “She’s outside, and she’s crying,” I gestured with my hands, pointing to my own head. “She had bugs in her hair. Like, humongous bugs, and she keeps scratching and the bugs are really big—”
“Miri.” Mrs Lewis cut me off, “Calm down. First of all, we don’t say bugs. They’re called lice, and they’re completely normal. All kids your age will get lice.” Her eyes found the end of the corridor. “Where is Lily now?”
“She’s on the jungle gym.” I said, “Is Lily going to be okay? Is she going to give us all lice?”
The teacher’s eyes turned sharp, and I automatically knew I’d said the wrong thing.
“Okay, Miri. Tell everyone I’m going to be a little late. I’ll go and find Lily.”
When I went back to class, someone had drawn a stickwoman on the board with a giant bug on her head.
I slumped in my chair and turned to Jasper, who was organising his crayons in order of shade.
“Hey.” I pointed to the board. “Who drew that?”
“Scarlett.” He muttered. “I’ve already wiped it off three times.”
I was daydreaming, counting clouds in the sky—trying to ignore Freddie and Scarlett singing about bugs, when Mrs Lewis came back. She was hand in hand with Lily, who looked better. I wasn’t sure how, but the girl seemed different. The way she moved, holding her head high as she skipped to her desk. Lily was skipping. She was smiling. Her eyes were bright—a glitter in her demeanour that none of us knew. We only knew the girl who stared down at the floor, peering through straggly hair. It’s not like her hair was better. It was worse, matted to her back.
When she found her seat, giggling to herself, her hands went back to her hair—scratching.
But she was smiling, giggling, laughing, as her scratting got more intense, raking her scalp. Her fingernails—I thought, something slimy creeping up my throat. Lily’s fingernails were still red, and the white flecks had turned fleshy pink. It was like jello, stuck to her nails and splattered on her palms. I didn’t want to think about what the goop was. I was squinting at the wooden grains of my desk to avoid barfing, when a shadow loomed.
I looked up to find Mrs Lewis glaring down at me.
“Miri, I am very disappointed in you. Lily is perfectly fine. If I hear you saying things about other children I will be talking to your mother. Do you understand me?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off.
“Would you like it if some of your friends said mean things about your hair?”
“But Mrs Lewis,” I whispered, “She did. I saw the bugs. They were making her cry.”
The teacher shook her head. “I combed through Lily’s hair several times. She does not have lice.”
If Mrs Lewis had combed through her hair, it wouldn’t still be a mess.
Why was she lying?
“She does though.” Jasper spoke up. “I saw them crawling in her hair.”
“Jasper!” The teacher’s voice hardened. “Of everyone in this class, I didn’t expect you to join in this bullying.”
“It’s not bullying!” He said, “Mrs Lewis, she has lice! Like, crazy lice!”
The teacher ignored us and went back to the front. I was surprised that Scarlett hadn’t spoken a word.
“Get out your workbooks.” Mrs Lewis told everyone.
“I was going to let you write stories today, since it’s coming up to the holidays, but since all you can do is make mean remarks against your friends, I want you to work in silence. Do the activity on pages 5, 6, and 8. Jasper, put your hand down. Yes, I know you’ve already done them—you can turn to the back and do question 10.”
Mrs Lewis cleared her throat. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mrs Lewis!” Lily chirped.
I heard the collective breath from everyone.
It was the first time in days that Lily had spoken without being forced to. There was something strange about her face. When I looked at the girl for long enough, she didn’t move, didn’t blink, her lips splitting her mouth apart into a smile. But her hands kept going—kept scratching, even when the fleshy pink built up in her fingernails. The teacher smiled, seemingly failing to notice the state of Lily. If she did, she didn’t care.
“Well done, Lily.”
I went through my workbook, struggling with the questions, especially when Lily would not stop scratching at her head. It was driving me crazy and knowing the damage she was doing to her head, seeing her wearing that unnerving grin—she was scaring me. I wanted to tell Mrs Lewis there was something wrong, but the words wouldn’t form in my mouth. I didn’t want to get in trouble again, but Lily’s scratching was unbearable.
When we were done, Mrs Lewis went around the class asking for answers.
Only two hands shot into the air.
Jasper, as usual— and to my surprise, Lily. Mrs Lewis looked equally baffled. Still, she nodded and smiled at the girl. “Lily, do you have the answer to—” she flicked through the workbook. “Question two?”
Lili shook her head. “No, but I have the answer for the one you’re doing.”
“Hmm?” The teacher looked confused, and Lily giggled, pointing to the red notebook on her desk.
“That one! The question you’re looking for is X=2. If you divide—“ Her words didn’t make sense to me, just like gibberish. I’d never heard of that kind of math. We were doing division, and I was still struggling with the basics.
Lily had never answered a math question, though I’d noticed her workbooks had always been coloured in green marker pen and glittery stickers. I guess it made sense that she was smart at math, but I didn’t understand how she’d somehow gotten the answer to the problem in Mrs Lewis’s private notebook.
“Lily, that’s not the question I’m asking. What’s the correct answer to question two?”
“Three.” Lily said. “Duh. You just divide 21 and 7.”
“That’s right.” Mrs Lewis’s lips pricked into a smile. “However, we do not say that word.”
Lily nodded and sat down with a bounce, her hands going back to scratch at her hair.
Behind me, Jasper grumbled. "I knew that."
When the day was over I was ready to get home—away from Lily and the smile that was stuck to her face.
Lily was packing up her stuff when Scarlet shoved past her.
“Get out of my way, Licey Lily! Don’t touch me.”
To my surprise, Lily laughed. She reached out her hand, giggling, and tucked a straying strand of Scarlett’s hair behind her ear. Beaming, Lily’s expression glittered with something I couldn’t and never would understand.
They looked strange—her eyes, I mean. They looked like they were moving, her pupils growing larger and then smaller, bouncing up and down like in cartoons. I had to blink to see if I was seeing things. When I turned around, Jasper was staring too, his mouth open, gaping.
Lily tugged her pigtails—hard.
I’d never seen Scarlett look scared. She always looked happy, always gleeful.
And yet then, I only saw terror. I saw a whole new shade of her personality bleeding through.
“They like your hair, Scarlett.” Lily murmured. “They’ve been talking to me and they want to eat it all up! And then they want to eat up your brain too!” Still laughing, Lily pressed her head to Scarlett’s. The girl didn’t move. Freddie, standing nearby, looked shaken, his lips twisted in disgust. And then I knew why. Because when I looked at Lily properly, I saw that her hair was moving. Twitching. I could see them, I could see bugs skittering across her head. I saw tiny legs peeking from her hairline. Freddie hissed out. “Hey.” His voice was shaky.
“Stop that.”
Scarlett stumbled back, clinging to Freddie.
“You’re so gross.” She managed to hiss. “Get… get away from me.”
Lily’s pupils shrunk to a dot. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
She was skipping away before any of them could respond.
That night I told mom to wash my hair three times just in case.
A sicky feeling had followed me to the Elementary school gates the next day.
I kept my head down for most of the morning. Scarlett was quiet and Lily had stopped scratching—she’d stopped everything though. Lily didn’t raise her hand to answer questions or work in her books.
She just sat there staring at nothing and smiling. Like she could see something I couldn’t.
I noticed scratching during reading period. When I lifted my head though, it was Freddie scratting his curls.
The scratching spread like a virus. By the end of the class it was everyone. Even Mrs Lewis.
At recess, I went to the bathroom to hide from Lily, who was eagerly dancing across the classroom and pressing her head to other kids.
They didn’t run though. They just stood and let her. When I was washing my hands, a stall creaked open, and Scarlett came out. She didn’t look like she usually did. Her hair was a tangled mess, no longer in pigtails, instead hanging in her face. Scarlett’s eyes didn’t find me, instead flicking to the mirror. Taking slow steps, she went over to the mirror and clawed at her hair, yanking and pulling at it.
“Make it stop.” She whispered, nails like claws scratching at her head, and then her face. Her eyes were red, and when I looked closer—I had to swallow a cry. Scarlett’s hair was moving. Just like with Lily. I saw them, bulging black bugs sticking to her hair and scuttling across her forehead. The girl’s arms were wild, trying to dig and claw and pull them off, but they were merciless, sticking into her skin and not letting go. She lunged forwards, her body swaying like she was dizzy before slamming her head into the mirror with a wet splat. My body froze up.
Blood, I thought.
There was blood.
“Stop.” Scarlett’s head hit the mirror again. Splat. More blood. More blood smearing the glass. I felt my legs give way and my knees hit cold tiles, my eyes glued to the bugs burrowing under her hair, clawing into her skin.
“They’re in my head.” She whimpered, her eyes flickering. Her pupils were bulging, growing bigger and then smaller, and the skin of her face contorted, like they were under there too. They were everywhere, I realised.
They were in her hands, bulging bumps writhing under the skin of her flesh when she tried to claw at her hair—but her hands fell limp by her side. Like they were stopping her. Puppeteering her.
“I can… hear them.” Scarlett’s contorting pupils found mine. When she opened her mouth to scream, I spied tiny holes on her tongue. “They’re in my head,” her voice was light, almost dreamy. “I want my… I want my mommy.”
Scarlett held out her hands, staring wide-eyed at fleshy pink covering her skin.
Mommy. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
When I saw tiny black dots writhe across the whites of her eyes, bulging into her pupils like it was taking over—
I screamed.
I just remembered screaming, and the BANG when Scarlett’s head hit the mirror again, and again.
Until her head didn’t look like a head.
“Miri?”
The familiar voice made me cry harder.
Jasper stumbled in, one hand covering his eyes, the other grasping at the wall to balance him. “This is the girl’s bathroom! I could get a disease here,” He groaned. “Why are you screaming? Is there a spider?”
“Scarlett!” I managed to whisper when the girl flopped to the ground. “It’s Scarlett!”
“What’s wrong with her?“
“Miss Lewis.” I backed into the wall, watching her body flailing. “Get Miss Lewis!”
Staggered footsteps.
The door shut, and I was alone with Scarlett.
And it was the first time I heard it.
Staring down at my lap, I refused to look at Scarlett, at the smear of red on the mirror. I was counting my breaths when I heard it—skittering and twitching. I heard them burrowing into Scarlett’s head, dancing across her hair.
SKKRR. CHH. CHH. CHH.
I was sobbing when Mrs Lewis hurried in, Jasper at her side. His hands were still over his eyes.
“Miri!” Mrs Lewis hissed out. “What’s going on?”
“Scarlett.” I whimpered into my dress. “She’s—”
I opened my mouth to speak, but then my eyes caught Scarlett standing in front of the mirror. She looked normal again. There was no splash of deep red painting her face, no dent in her head where she’d smashed her face into the mirror. I noticed there was dripping toilet paper tinged red balled in her fists. She’d wiped it off, I thought. Scarlett had cleaned the mirror. When the girl faced the teacher, her eyes were funny—like Lily’s.
“Yes, Mrs Lewis?”
I squinted, catching movement on the shrinking crack in the mirror.
Tiny black dots— like ants— crawling across the glass. They were fixing it, I realised.
Like the dent in Scarlett’s head.
Had they fixed her too?
Jasper peeked through his hands. “Is it okay to look?”
Mrs Lewis was red-faced. “This is the second time, Miri!” She yelled. “This isn’t an isolated case, this is crying wolf!”
I didn’t know what that meant.
Slowly, I got to my feet. I was trembling.
“Miss Lewis.“ My voice was shaking. “Scarlet had—“ I reached into my own hair. “Magic… magic bugs—"
“Lice?” The teacher finished. “I’m going to talk to your mother. This is unacceptable behaviour.”
She gestured to the door. “Girls. Get to class. Jasper, stay behind. I’d like to talk to you.”
Jasper squeaked. “Me? Why?”
“Just a talk, Jasper.”
“But—I didn’t do anything!”
I didn’t want to leave Jasper—but I didn’t have a choice.
On the way back to class, I considered going home. I wanted to run away—back to mom. Someone’s hand clawed in my hair, entangling in my ponytail. I cried out, pulling away. It was Scarlett with eyes that weren’t hers anymore. “Pretty hair!” She sang, tugging on my hair. “Pretty, pretty, pretty hair!”
I was the only one not scratching my head when I went back to the classroom. The other kids continued playing, laughing, talking—scratting at their heads. Lily sat at her desk—as did Scarlett and Freddie. They didn’t move. They didn’t join in. Freddie’s fingernails were red, but he didn’t care, scratching and scratching and scratching.
I pressed my hands over my ears to block out the noise.
When Jasper sat back in his seat, his eyes were red. I turned to him quickly. “What did she say?”
The boy glowered at me. “I’m not the star student anymore,” He mumbled. “Mrs Lewis said I can have my stickers back when I stop being mean to Lily.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “This is all your fault, Miri. You’re the one who keeps saying there’s bugs in kids' hair. You made me go in the girl’s bathroom, so now I’ve got girl cooties.”
Jasper rested his head in his arms. “Mrs Lewis was weird too. She kept touching my head.”
“What?” I hissed, leaning my chair against his desk. “Jasper, what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” He grumbled into his arms. “Go away.”
Jasper wasn’t lying. He ignored me for the rest of the day. Even when I offered him the cupcake my mom had packed me. He ate it in one bite and went back to glaring at his own lunch. I wanted to talk to him, because he was the only one who wasn’t acting weird. The other kids started to follow Lily and Scarlett and Freddie. They stopped playing, stopped talking and laughing, and just sat in silence. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand the scratching. I wanted to go home. When I told Mrs Lewis I felt sick, she just smiled and told me I was crying wolf.
It was only much later on when I realised I was the only one left. I was writing about panda’s when I heard it coming from behind me. It started slow, soft, and then grew louder. When I turned around, it wasn’t Ella or Jack or Sara scratching their heads. Instead, I glimpsed Jasper attacking his dark brown curls with his nails.
He wasn’t doing math problems like usual.
I should have noticed sooner.
I should have noticed his heavy breathing, panicky breaths coming out in hysterical sobs that the rest of the class and teacher ignored. I know, looking back, I didn’t want to. I was in denial that it had spread to our side.
“Jasper?” I said with a tangled tongue. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but when he lifted his head, I saw the exact same—that look of fright and pain I’d seen in Lily and Scarlett. Fear—the kind of fear I’d never expected a kid to feel. His whole body was quivering, contorting. His skin looked like it was rippling, like something was underneath. I caught something moving behind his ear, far more visible on short shaggy curls. Legs. But not tiny ones. I could see them scuttling down his neck. When I leaned forward, I could see them. But they weren’t in his hair, they were in his skin. They were twitching in his nose and trickling from his lips, choking his panicked sobs.
“Miss Lewis.” He finally whispered, spitting out writhing black. It hit the desk, crawling across his book.
“There’s something… in my head.” Jasper sobbed. “Something… in my… in my head.”
Mrs Lewis didn’t stop writing on the whiteboard. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jasper.”
I couldn’t move. If I did, I was scared I’d catch them too.
That my head would start scratching.
“But there is.” Jasper’s voice was strange. Dreamy. “They’re telling me they’re going to eat my brain.”
Like Lily, like everyone else, his eyes found nothing.
And he smiled—like he was seeing something beautiful.
When my teacher exploded I was writing.
I didn’t want to look at Jasper, whose eyes were funny, or the others—who had turned to Jasper like they were waiting. I didn’t fully register my teacher being there one second and then gone the next. I saw it as an explosion.
Not like fireworks, sizzling colours streaming across the night sky.
More like a bang. A sudden bang that sent my world spiralling. My pen dropped from my hand. I’d been writing about— about pandas. And for some reason I wanted to continue. I wanted to write more. I wanted to write pages and pages and pages of panda facts, and maybe if I was lucky, things might go back to the way they were. Maybe if I wrote enough Jasper would stop screaming. Maybe he’d stop scratching.
I didn’t register something warm hitting my face. It was the same colour as Freddie’s fingernails.
Red blurring my vision and spattering my desk and workbook.
Nobody cried out.
Jasper was the only one screaming, pulling at his hair, stumbling and staggering. But I was too busy staring at the writhing pieces of Mrs Lewis on the ground. Moving. Bugs streaming out of her and crawling across the floor. I wondered if I was one of them. If I was infected too. Because I sat too- staring at what was left of Mrs Lewis. The bugs worked in harmony, crawling across desks and streaming into my classmates' ears.
But when I looked at Holly Henderson and Nick Jacobs, they were laughing.
“That tickles!” Lily squealed when one wormed its way through her lips, and nose. And then Lily started to come apart slowly, still smiling. It was like the bugs—the lice—were folding her inside out like she was one of my dolls.
Bugs erupted from her grinning mouth, her eyes, tiny legs coming from her head, before she, like Mrs Lewis—
Popped.
That’s what it sounded like.
Pop! Lily sounded like a balloon.
I didn’t look. I squeezed my crimson eyes shut.
But I still heard her. Them. I heard them writhing through the speckled pieces of Lily.
SKRRR. CH. CH.
When I lifted my head, kids started to pop like Lily. I was so busy staring, watching them disappear in shades of red, I didn’t notice Jasper had grabbed me and pulled me to my feet. The world spun around me and I blinked.
I felt like I was floating—flying, my feet slipping on the floor.
Jasper’s cry.
“Get them off me!”
When he opened his mouth to cry, there were holes on his tongue.
And the bugs came popping from his lips like maggots, gagging his cries.
Jasper was grasping hold of his head, cradling it, because he knew.
He’d seen what had happened to the others.
I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to look. But I found my gaze flicking to the back of his head, which was— twitching. There was something there, something fighting to get out. The boy moaned, falling to his knees.
“Get them out of my head! Get them out!”
Jasper was crying, slamming his head into his desk, his trembling hands going to his neck— and I realised he was trying to choke himself, or more accurately, choke the crawlies bulging in his throat.
I remember grabbing hold of him, wrapping my arms around him. I don’t know what I was trying to do.
I think I was trying to pick them off him in the hysteria building and building—- I remember he hit the ground and took me with him. I was picking bugs from his face, trying not to look at his eyes, dancing pupils multiplying into ones and twos and threes expanding and shrinking.
I was staring at him, trying to choke out his name when I knew it wasn’t really him anymore. It couldn’t be. Jasper didn’t have three pupils.
“Jasper.” I was saying his name over and over again. “Why do you have funny eyes?”
I said it like a mantra.
I wouldn’t stop until he answered me.
That was before the bright red. It was hitting me in the face, and my hands were in front of me trying to find Jasper, but only clawing thin air. At my feet I knew he was there, like the others, glittering scarlet contorting beneath me.
And the bugs that had spewed out of him.
But I didn’t want to think about that.
I was going to pick the bugs off of Jasper. I was going to save him from Lily’s lice.
I was still trying to find Jasper when men in white came and pulled me away.
Away from my classroom filled with writhing black.
I was still trying to find him when they sprayed me with ice cold water.
When I was in my mom’s arms, she wore a protective suit, my face pressed against her visor.
“Mom, where’s Jasper?”
She didn’t reply, hugging me tighter. I could feel her gloved hands in my hair, feverishly flitting through strands.
When a man shaved all my hair off I didn’t complain.
The school was shut down, and mom and I moved to Canada.
I was 16 when I started growing my hair out again.
When I was 19, I caught someone scratching their head in college class.
I excused myself and went back to my dorm.
I spent hours going through my hair.
Checking.
I’m 23 now. It’s been 13 years and what happened to my fourth grade class—I’ve mostly suppressed. It was a virus, I was told. Except I knew exactly what it was. Lice. Lice that had turned my classmates into squiggling red.
I just remember squiggling red.
Yesterday, I was on the Subway to a friend's place. It’s the first time I’ve been in the US since I was 10. I could barely keep my eyes open and the light rocking of the carriages was sending me to sleep. I was squashed between a guy in ray bans with his head bowed, probably asleep, and an elderly woman with a dog. I was staring down at my lap when the guy lay his head on my shoulder. I wasn’t a fan of touching people in public, but he was warm and wouldn’t move when I tried to shove him off, so I left him.
I drifted off myself.
When I heard it.
SKRRRRRR CH CH CH.
My head jerked up, slivers of ice sliding down my spine. The train was still moving. I wasn’t dreaming.
I could hear people talking around me, a kid crying, and a teenager’s music blasting.
But it was still there. I could hear it. So close.
It was so… close.
SKRRRRRR CH CH CH.
Looking up, I realised something.
I’d never looked at the guy sitting next to me.
That was my first mistake.
My first mistake—and I can’t stop thinking about it— even now. Almost three hours later.
I can’t get his words out of my head.
As I scratch.
I keep scratching.
I can’t stop.
Because the guy sitting next to me wasn’t a stranger. Without his raybans when he slid them off, I recognised those eyes, and that stupid smile from all those years ago. His face had been carved with age—and adulthood had been good to him, a bedhead of messy light reddish curls falling in flickering eyes that drank me in feverishly—pupils that expanded and multiplied in twos, threes and fours. Jasper. When I jumped up, he reached and pulled me back down with strength that sucked the breath from my lungs.
“Well, would you look at that? We finally found you.” He said, his voice a mixture of a child and an adult—as well as an insect-like chitter. I could only stare at him, a scream clawing at my throat.
In the corner of my eye, I glimpsed blonde curls.
Another chitter, which Jasper reacted to.
Like a signal.
“Ten minutes.” He murmured, snuggling into me with a sigh. His whole body was writhing with them. I felt them tickling my ear. When I looked down, scuttling black dots ran across my shoes. “That’s how long it took for them to put us back together.”

State: CA
Insurance: Progressive
I posted previously about being rear ended.
After a month, of playing phone tag with my claims rep, i got an appointment with a shop and I got a call from an adjuster. He said he was going to look at my car and let me know his results. He asked me if I had the window sticker for my car. I do not. What I have are the documents I signed and what I paid for the car. I was never able to provide those cuz he never called me back. This was some time last week.
I found out today, that damages went up from 12k to 13k (initially it was $7k). My car is worth about $17k, according to Kelley blue book. I paid under or around $20k for it.
I want to understand how he came to the conclusion that my car was fixable and not a total loss?
(Two acquaintances that are former body shop employees said that my car had no chance of being fixed.)

Cointelpro, Gang (Group) Stalking, Community Stalking; Domestic Espionage, Covert Harassment, Organized Crime, waste of money and time. Causes: car accidents and traffic speeding by the "targeted individuals" with uniquely modified loud muffler revving cars/bikes and obnoxious, unusual, bizarre stickers and paint work, unusual vanity plates driving with one headlight, all car windows down, driving with one arm hanging out the window, parked cars with every car door, trunk open etc. Slander campaigns, honey traps, store/ public mobbing, "street theatre": bizarre public comments (directed conversation) and bizarre obnoxious public behavior, loud laughing etc. Invasion of privacy: literal 24/7 surveillance, illegally hacking phones then repeat illegally recorded phone conversations i public back to the "targeted individual" then paying people through gift cards or "surveillance role playing security guard" positions or fake private investigators". Information: There are 1000's of websites: "You tube" videos and "Reddit.com"posts. Just 1 example: Case of "Myron May" FL 2014 Thank you.

Cointelpro, Gang (Group) Stalking, Community Stalking; Domestic Espionage, Covert Harassment, Organized Crime, waste of money and time. Causes: car accidents and traffic speeding by the "targeted individuals" with uniquely modified loud muffler revving cars/bikes and obnoxious, unusual, bizarre stickers and paint work, unusual vanity plates driving with one headlight, all car windows down, driving with one arm hanging out the window, parked cars with every car door, trunk open etc. Slander campaigns, honey traps, store/ public mobbing, "street theatre": bizarre public comments (directed conversation) and bizarre obnoxious public behavior, loud laughing etc. Invasion of privacy: literal 24/7 surveillance, illegally hacking phones then repeat illegally recorded phone conversations i public back to the "targeted individual" then paying people through gift cards or "surveillance role playing security guard" positions or fake private investigators". Information: There are 1000's of websites: "You tube" videos and "Reddit.com"posts.
Just 1 example: Case of "Myron May" FL 2014 Thank you.

​
Disclaimer: I am not an expert. I am simply sharing my candid opinion on the board to help new buyers clarify their doubts. The User Manual is severely lacking, and many reviews tend to focus primarily on sound and switches, neglecting to shed light on the smaller, niche features.
Price: The RK100 is priced at 5.3k INR from Meckeys.
Box Contents:

1. Keyboard
   
2. Switch and keycap puller
   
3. 4 extra switches
   
4. USB-C to USB-A/C cable
   
5. User Manual
   
6. Meckeys card and stickers
   

Build Quality: This board is built like a tank. It is solid and shows no signs of flexing. If you are transitioning from cheap Chinese boards, you will notice a significant increase in quality. Even if you are not, you won't feel that it is cheap or low-quality in any aspect.
Layout: If you are a touch typist, it will take some time to get used to, but having all the keys in a TKL form factor makes the compromise worthwhile.
Switches: I have RK Red switches, previously having used Outemu Blue and Red switches. The RK Reds feel much lighter than the Outemu Reds. Switch preference varies, so I won't comment extensively on this. Some redditors suggested Gateron Yellows and Akko Creamy Yellows as alternatives.
Connectivity: Wired, 2.4 GHz, 3 Profile Bluetooth. Wired: To use the wired connection, you must turn off the keyboard, which will immediately turn on upon plugging it in. 2.4 GHz: You need to turn on the other switch and set it to the "G" position. In this mode, I experienced no delay or missed keystrokes. Bluetooth: You can connect up to three devices, and switching between them is very fast. In this mode as well, I experienced no delay or missed keystrokes. It works perfectly on Android, Windows, and Linux.
LED Indicators: There are five lights below the space bar.

1. Num lock: white light.
   
2. Caps lock: white light.
   
3. Bluetooth indicator: Red light for the 1st profile, blue light for the 2nd profile, green light for the 3rd profile.
   
4. 2.4 GHz indicator: white light.
   
5. Charging indicator: red light.
   

USB Passthrough: It features two USB-A ports and one USB-C port. It only works in wired mode, and the ports are spaced well enough to prevent cables and dongles from colliding with each other. I connected two mice, and it worked perfectly. It would have been great if it worked wirelessly.
Hotswap: Keycaps are easy to pull out using the provided tools, but removing switches was a bit challenging for me at least. It supports both 5-pin and 3-pin switches, making it compatible with most switches available on the market.
Battery and Charging: The keyboard has a large 3750mAh battery that can last up to 6-7 days on a single charge with RGB lighting turned off. The charging indicator always remains red, regardless of how long the keyboard has been charging. There are two ways to check the battery percentage: either connect the keyboard to your computer via Bluetooth and check the battery level in the Bluetooth settings, or press "Fn + Enter" to turn on the battery indicator, where the top row will light up to display the battery percentage.
RK official Software, key remap , customization:
The official RK software is a big mess. You download the software from a sketchy Google Drive link, and after installation, the software always indicates that there is a new version available. No matter how many times you install it, it will always say "new version available," but it will remain in the same version.
When I tried to customize the RGB in the software, it has three profiles for it (Fn + 1, 2, 3), and you can set your own style. However, every time I disconnect and reconnect, the profile gets reset and goes back to the default.
Key remapping: Every key on the keyboard is programmable, and you can set it to anything you desire. The customized settings are stored in the keyboard's memory. I personalized my entire numpad with functions like screen brightness adjustment, cut, copy, paste, redo, undo, select, save, and more. You can have as many profiles as you want and switch between them using the software. The best part is that these settings are stored directly in the keyboard's memory, eliminating the need for background software running on your computer. This feature is particularly useful for office workers who can't install software on their work PCs. Furthermore, my remapped keys work seamlessly with Android and Linux as well. Therefore, if you use multiple operating systems, I suggest creating a profile for each OS and set macros and remaps to suit your preferences. There is also macro recording option on the software, but I haven't experimented it much.
NOTE: There is a open source software called "Rangoli" for windows, mac and Linux. It's million miles better than the official software. Avoid RK's official software.
​
Conclusion: The previous keyboards I owned were mostly cheap Chinese ones, and most of them didn't last more than a year and a half. I grew tired of constantly changing keyboards every year, So I decided to spend a little bit more and settle for the decent one if I can keep it for a 3 to 5 years. I browsed the internet and most of the good one's were out of my budget and I zeroed in on 3 Keyboards: Redragon k596(5.7k) , Logitech Pop, RK100. I didn't have enough confidence in Redragon at 6k, and Logitech didn't even have backlighting let alone advanced futures, so I decided to pull the trigger on RK100 and I am very happy with my Purchase.
It got all the key's in a very compact form factor, onboard memory for macros, per key RGB, wired, wireless and Bluetooth, hotswap with 5 and 3 pin, USB Passthrough and a very big battery to back it up. So I believe Royal kludge justified their 5k price tag.
Concerns: If the battery fails, finding an official replacement battery might be challenging as there is no official option available, and the ones on Amazon are often overpriced.
I am unsure about the quality of Royal Kludge's service in India, and their software could use significant improvement. Additionally, their user manual lacks important information, leaving many aspects of their products at the user's discretion. I mean they could've just hired a freelancer to write the manual and he could've done it much better.
The charging light is always on as the new buyers might be worried that their unit is faulty or some might over charge it .
Ordering from meckeys:
They delivered the product on the promised date, and the packaging was in excellent condition. They wrapped the box in protective wrap, ensuring that it arrived without any dents or damages.
​
Wrap-up: Apologies for the lengthy post, but I wanted to provide a detailed opinion for new buyers of the RK100, enabling them to make informed decisions(5k on a keyboard is lot of money). If you have any questions, feel free to ask, and I'll be happy to answer them.

About this item:

1. Striking Pattern, Stylish Decoration: Want to decorate your home but have no idea? From the windows! With special irregular patterns, this window privacy film creates rainbow visual effect when sunlight shines through after installation and brings unique decoration on your windows, a cost-effective alternative to expensive textured glass
2. Strong Sunlight Blocked, Harmful UV Rejected: Made of premium vinyl material, the window privacy film effectively reduces annoying glares, blocks out 84% UVA rays and 99% UVB rays, and protects your skin and furniture from getting directly exposed to sunlight; By letting filtered natural light in, glass film creates a soft atmosphere for you
3. No Glue Hassle & Removable: The window privacy film is static cling without any sticky, harmful, and chemical glues, super easy to install on Flat, Clean, and Smooth Glass Surfaces, and can be easily removed and reused for multiple times, an optimal option for renting house or home applications instead of heavy expensive curtains or blinds
4. Important Fact to Know: The decorative window film itself does not actually have any color. However, with special 3D laser design it will show a colorful visual effect when sunlight hits the privacy film after installation; Please spray a lot of water both on the window surface and privacy film back during installation for effective attachment
5. Protected Privacy, Secured Life: The semi-private window film serves a functional purpose in adding partial privacy for your personal space by preventing people outside from seeing directly into the room and obscuring outdoor views; Protection Level is 60%, not recommend for bathroom

Buy Best Discounted Offer: https://amzn.to/3MCCgPT

https://imgur.com/a/1RxBLPJ
A modern 146 with original Montblanc box and papers in A2 condition. Year of production 2002 onwards. Inked just a couple of times( still stickered). 14k bicolor M nib, plastic feed ‘with a hole’. Brass piston threads. Writing sample in the link. Buttery smooth writer. Striated ink window. The pen has just been serviced by Montblanc service center
USD 300 SOLD
The pen will be shipped from Jakarta, Indonesia via registered and insured airmail and a tracking number provided. Shipping will cost 20 USD. For an additional 20 USD, you may upgrade it to Express(delivery within 7-10 days by DHL). Payment via PayPal goods and services. If you have any questions or need more photos, please PM. Please comment on the thread before PMing.

Once you see it you will keep noticing it. Is it because it adds value during resale? Why would it? Or is it some kind of virtue signaling? I am honestly baffled...

Hi I am going to look at this musang gt tommorow and wanted opinions on the price. The car looks to not have accidents, is clean title, and has several modifications. is 13,500 too much for this car? Pictures of the car and post are attached. This is in Northern California.

I’ve always appreciated all forms of art, especially because my grandfather was incredibly skilled with painting. Even though no matter how hard I’ve tried, my paintings never stood up to his. But I am always on the lookout for good paintings or drawings for inspiration.
As I clock out of my job at Vito’s I walk home, as I live only a few minutes away. That’s when I stumbled upon a garage sale.
Not uncommon for my neighborhood but it was strange that is was still open at 9:00PM when my shift ends. I was going to just walk by, but my eyes caught a glance of a painting, it was of a women down to her shoulders and holding up a hand with two fingers raised.
The painting looked aged, at least 50 years old. But it was incredibly detailed, like a old house with a ray of sunshine showing through the kitchen window.
I walked in and took a look at the price, there were multiple stickers under the one on top, it was only $10, a steal.
I grabbed the painting with caution to not damage it and walked up to the man running the garage sale, he looked tired and disheveled, like he hasn’t slept or showered in days. His eyes were red, as if he just got done sobbing.
“Hey I’m looking to buy this painting?” I said
“Oh, yeah of course.” He said with a shaken voice
I handed over the money as he grabbed the bill and the metal box of bills and coins as he rushed into his house.
After that weird experience I hurried home, to hopefully avoid any other weird experiences. I wish I could slap myself, why couldn’t I take the hint.
I hung the painting in my living room as it was lacking in good decor, then I went to my bedroom and promptly collapsed.
I woke up later in the night, around 5:00AM when I heard a thud, thinking it was my cat who knocked something down, I went to investigate what he pushed of whatever counter he got on. But that when I hear his familiar pur from behind me, I turned around and there he was, rolling on the floor and stretching, as if he just got up.
Fear crept up my spine thinking someone broke into my house, I quickly grabbed my pocket knife from my work jeans pocket and walked into my living room slowly. I turned the corner and, nothing.
Nobody was there, I checked my front door, it was still locked. The only think amiss is the painting I bought lying on the floor, as I picked it up it was undamaged. I let out a sigh of relief as I hang it back up and head back to bed.
Not even an hour passed as I woke up again to my cat screaming. I jump up and ran to the living room, I saw a horrible sight, my cat was missing his bottom half, as it laid a meter away from him, the painting I bought laid next to him, caked in his blood, my cats face had a look of fear, with his mouth gaping open as if he was hissing. The women in the painting expression has changed, with eyes filled with sadness and dreed. But her smile, I can’t describe how terrifying her smile was, it looked as if her mouth was slit open up to her ears, instead of two fingers, she had three.
I raced out my door, I could barely see as tears shot down my face. I started the car and raced out of my neighborhood, I didn’t stop until my car ran out of gas, I pulled into a small motel and rented a room and cried myself to sleep, that night, I dreamed of the painting.
I was back in my house, my cats corpse not covered in flies, the woman in the painting still had those terrified eyes, and that horrible horrific smile. The only thing I saw was the painting slowly raise another finger, I tried to plead, scream, cry for help, anything, But it was not use. Before the finger was fully extended, I woke up.
So here I am, a week later without sleep, even going so far as to injure myself to stay awake. I sit on my phone typing this story in a cheap motel to warn other art lovers, a fine portrait you pick up, may be the last face you ever see.

After running my vin (2015 1500 5.7) seen from a previous post, was looking at my options, says comes with a 26 gallon tank but has the optional 32 installed. I have the window sticker it came with it too, says the same. I sometimes will run it till it says I have about 40-50 miles until empty, get gas and it stops just before it gets to 26 gallons. Is there some magical place in the tank that stores 6 gallons that I'm not aware of?