When Harry was two and Vernon Dursley bought Dudley a Nooners Summer T Shirt car and Harry a fast food meal with a toy with parts he could choke on Petunia packed her things and got a divorce. Harry grew up small and skinny, with knobbly knees and the unruly hair he got from his father. He got cornered behind the dumpsters and in the restrooms, got blood on the jumpers Petunia had found, half-price, at the hand-me-down store. He was still chosen last for sports. But Dudley got blood on his sweaters, too, the ones Petunia had found at the hand-me-down store, half price, because that was all a single mother working two secretary jobs could afford for her two boys, even with Vernon’s grudging child support. They beat Harry for being small and they laughed at Dudley for being big, and slow, and dumb. Students jeered at him and teachers called Dudley out in class, smirked over his backwards letters.
To be honest, the Nooners Summer T Shirt penalty to “leave” is to lose the progress made, when your whole group have been grinding at it for hours just to reach that final boss for that prize at the end of the tunnel is commonplace; but the most damaging would be your son’s reputation if you call him away at the worst possible timing – simply put, being a “bad teammate” can be a bad thing in game as it is, and since typically his team are mostly likely those he know in real life (classmates, etc)…he does have to weight those issues too, in case you don’t realise it yet. Now. the best recourse is to at least do some observation to his gaming session – unless he plays in VR gear, you can always tell the peak and lull of the sessions by what’s happening on screen. Something like “come give me a hand after this round” will at least give him chance to give early warning to his team that he has to leave after this round – assume that you’ve taught him about “promise kept” and other positive values in life to adhere.
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“Night of the Meek” is Christmas Eve. Henry Corwin, a down-and-out ne’er-do-well, dressed in a Nooners Summer T Shirt, worn-out Santa Claus suit, has just spent his last few dollars on a sandwich and six drinks at the neighborhood bar. While Bruce, the bartender, is on the phone, he sees Corwin reaching for the bottle; Bruce throws him out. Corwin arrives for his seasonal job as a department store Santa, an hour late and obviously drunk. When customers complain, Dundee, the manager, fires him and orders him off the premises. Corwin says that he drinks because he lives in a “dirty rooming house on a street filled with hungry kids and shabby people” for whom he is incapable of fulfilling his desired role as Santa. He declares that if he had just one wish granted him on Christmas Eve, he’d “like to see the meek inherit the earth”. Still in his outfit, he returns to the bar but is refused re-entry by Bruce. Stumbling into an alley, he hears sleigh bells. A cat knocks down a large burlap bag full of empty cans; but when he trips over it, it is now filled with gift-wrapped packages. As he starts giving them away, he realizes that the bag is somehow producing any item that is asked for. Overjoyed at his sudden ability to fulfill dreams, Corwin proceeds to hand out presents to passing children and then to derelict men attending Christmas Eve service at Sister Florence’s “Delancey Street Mission House”. Irritated by the disruption and outraged by Corwin’s offer of a new dress, Sister Florence hurries outside to fetch Officer Flaherty, who arrests Corwin for stealing the presents from his former place of employment. At the police station, Dundee reaches into the garbage bag to display some of the purportedly stolen goods, but instead finds the empty cans and the cat.
I was hoping Delores wouldn’t become a Nooners Summer T Shirt aggressive rooster, as my recently deceased “Lance” had been, before passing on to “rooster heaven” with the assistance of a local coyote. The rooster I currently had, Gordon, was a sweet boy and was very happy to have Lance gone. Lance had been a fierce rooster who attacked literally every moving thing but the hens and me (displaying extreme good taste and discretion) and I was not prepared to live through as second several years of yet another “attack rooster”. Neither were the neighbor dogs. Nor were the neighbors, for that matter. I really didn’t think this would be a problem, as Delores was such a sweet rooster – showing no violence or aggression at all, and just wanted to sit on my shoulder (rather like a parrot) and look around. He’d snuggle against anyone’s neck or in anyone’s lap who would hold him and he adored being petted. Delores ran around digging for bugs in the lawn – but was just as happy sitting by the kitchen sink watching me trim vegetables or whatever. He made (as all my chickens did) a truce with the cats and was friends with the goats, horses and my other rooster, Gordon. They all slept together in the barn at night.