Valkiri: Order of the Cygnus – Chapter 1 “Complete”


Story by Sven Vladimir Rostovski, written by Malvoyant Berserker

“Mayday! Reginald 174 into 340…we’re going down! I repeat we are going down! Do you read me…we are going down! We are losing control over the plane…we are losing radio contact…both the pilot and the copilot…disabled! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! SOMEBODY HELP!”

These were the first words Rubin Salenkovitch yelled half panic-stricken into the plane’s radio microphone in an attempt to contact the Sydney Airport for help, he thought he was doing just that when cries of panic became audible through the shut cockpit doors; instead of radioing the airport for help, he had just radioed the entire plane that they are going to crash in the Outback, which they are soon going to.

Best to explain the situation beforehand, Rubin Salenkovitch is the firstborn son of a Russian fighter-pilot during the period of Russia occupation in Afghanistan, he learned how to fly an airplane at the age of fourteen, and won medals for some high stakes stunts no other pilots would dare try in flight competitions, still, Rubin’s dad decided that flying gymnastics is not the best profession for his son, so Rubin was sent to Australia to study an engineer degree. Rubin is taking Boeing 174 to Canada for sightseeing and then to Russia see his dad for the first time in four years; for now, that’s not likely going to happen.

It may by a coincidence coming across two pennies of the same year in one day; it’s a greater coincidence to find two pilots of the same plane unconscious on the same flight, but in the case of Boeing 174, it did. When Rubin sensed the first signs of some irregular flying motions of the plane, he got up from his seat in the economy class to go to the cockpit to investigate, something only a professional pilot such as himself would do. When the door labeled “AIRLINE EMPLOYEES ONLY” won’t budge, Rubin wrenched it open to find both pilots slumped in their seats, both were not breathing and still aren’t. The plane is falling from the sky nose pitched forward, heading through the lower atmosphere in a downward missile drop; white clouds rushed passed the cockpit windows as Rubin tries to manually maintain flight. It seems that a string of errors occurred simultaneously in the plane’s navigation system, as displayed on the small computer screen positioned in the center of the instrument panel, auto-pilot is flashing> just then, to be overlapped by another malfunction, this one has to do with the compass losing sight of south.

Rubin is about to kneel and do a prayer when a girl of about twenty years of age, blond hair, and casual clothing burst into the cockpit. This is Anna Hunt, emerging Australian actress nobody has head of…yet. She is flying to Canada to star in her first major role in a movie, first time playing lead, and a good part too about some female fighter-jet pilot in WWII, European theater; it’s a fictitious role, but that beats having to watch all the fuzzy black and white tapes of the actual “hero” to learn the part, she thought.

The plane had just dipped sharply and she heard someone in the economy class get up abruptly and ran to the bathroom, she heard this because the horrible retching sound that sick person back there had been making for the past hour is horrible, it sounds like someone is choking him, no surprise if someone actually does, she thought. Then the plane dipped (auto-pilot had just officially declared resignation on the computer screen in the cockpit, much to the dismay of Rubin who is trying to sort everything out) and the sick person back in economy puked, several cries and ewws were heard, the person apologized faintly and ran towards the bathroom, it sounded like he made it, thankfully! Anna was thinking this thought when she remembered the young man who ran past her towards the cockpit down her aisle, he looked slightly panicked then; Anna had always been able to tell people’s most secretive expressions anytime, a natural gift of hers. Anna thought if she should go check out what’s going on in the cockpit, another sudden dip made her sit back down again, and then came the announcement: “Reginald 174 into 340…we’re going down! I repeat we are going down! Do you read me…we are going down…” no need to hesitate, she got up and ran towards the door (and is it ajar? The cockpit door was never left ajar) labeled “AIRLINE EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

Anna burst through the cockpit door to find Rubin fighting and arguing with the control yoke, shouting “aw com’on! Up! Why won’t you move up?” clearly, the stubborn yoke won’t listen. A quick glance at the instrument told her that the transponder is busted. The altimeter, air-speed indicator, and computer are no better off; for starring in her part, Anna had to go through a quick flying lesson and learn to read all the controls, she remembered almost all of them. “What’s going on?” she asked, and then she saw the unconscious pilot and first officer.

“You’re a terrorist!”

“No I’m not!” Rubin shouted back, ‘I’m a pilot!’

“You don’t have the airline uniform!”

“I’m not…I mean…the plane’s going to crash!”

“Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I care?”

“You’re sabotaging the plane aren’t you, you’re going to kill us all and kill yourself with us!” Anna finds herself arguing with a possibly dangerous person for the first time in her life, he has a slight Russian accent, almost indistinguishable but of course she picked it up; he wears a grey T-shirt with a surfing logo on it, and jeans, he looks to be about twenty-two years old, with golden brown hair cut short, like air cadet…he doesn’t look like a terrorist.

“I’m not a terrorist, I’m a professional pilot…I-I just came to investigate…”

“And you knocked the pilots unconscious!”

“I didn’t! I swear! They were already dubbed over in their seats when I arrived…dead I think, I didn’t hear heart beats…I came to the cockpit to investigate and I found them already like this…”

“Prove it you’re not a terrorist!”

Rubin may have expected to be in a disabled plane at least one time in his life, but he never expected to be in a disabled plane and being accused of being a terrorist at the same time, who is this crazy girl?

“Um…how? I don’t have a weapon on me I swear again.”

“Take out everything in your pockets! Lift your shirt up so I can take a look…and don’t move! I know karate!” Starring in CSI Crime Investigation once did help in this situation, Anna thought.

Suddenly, a grinning face popped up behind Anna and startled her so much she turned around and punched the man in the gut, karate style. Oh gosh, Rubin thought, she does know karate.

The man Anna karate punched in the gut is Ross Layton, twenty years old, pathological liar, politician, comedian, and bald as a watermelon. Ross is a very social guy, always talking with the person in the next seat on the plane, on the train, on the bus, on the taxi, one the bicycle (if it’s a two-person bicycle), and on every other type of multi-person transportation. All this makes Ross a perfect political candidate, except for his lying habit, which is born in him as his mom always said. Ross always admits it after he lies ten strings in a row.

The minute Ross sat down on his seat in business class; he had not stopped talking to the lady in the next seat, the moment she sat down on her seat.

“Hi there ma’am, how’s the day going?” that’s Ross.

“Oh hi, I’m doing fine, how are you?” The lady smiled at Ross as the conversation of her life was about to take place.

“Doing nicely thank you. I’m just kinda worried about the upcoming cyclone that heading our flight path, shame they’re still taking off, it’ll be hard to navigate through a storm of that extent I say, heard it was the storm of the century, wind speed gonna be…let’s see…I remember they said it was gonna reach 300 kilometers an hour, at the tail.”

The lady sat dumbstruck at Ross while he said all that, “Oh gosh! Where did you hear that from, the weather said it’s all sunny all day all the way to Canada, it didn’t mention any storm, not to mention a cyclone!”

“Oh, don’t believe in the weatherman don’t believe in the propaganda they feed you on that channel, I tell you, I have the most reliable source and it tells the truth and absolute truth, you wanna know a secret? It’s where I got this top-secret cyclone information…the secret service channel, it’s channel 1000, I know you don’t have that channel on your TV because it’s a special channel few people in the world has, it’s absolutely top-secret, top-secret to the toppest levels within our government, even few people in NATO has this channel, it reports all the stuff us citizens don’t know, like the next terrorist attack, UFO visiting to earth (yes, the government has that access) and all the government conspiracy and their plans; they control everything, they monitor everything we do with that channel, we can’t see them but they have that channel secretly installed in all our TVs, every one of us. We’re being watched every time we turn on our cable television. There’s a law in the system of justice, fine-print of course, that the discovery of that channel by any “citizen” is only punishable by death, there are no pensions and no alternatives, only death.”

The lady sat with her mouth hanging open fitting enough for an egg as Ross told on his unbelievable tale of channel 1000, that it was only the beginning.

Continued…

“We live in the world of 1984, Mis, George Orwell was never wrong, except instead of a controlled world with absolutely no freedom flat-out, this is a world disguised by the proclamation of freedom, this world is much more dangerous, because you don’t know when you might have done something unsuspecting and maybe completely innocent but that thing pissed off some high-ranking government official, and that pissed off government official will order your disposal and you’ll cease to exist and your friends and family won’t notice, because most often…the case is that they disappear with you.” Ross’s voice dropped to a whisper just below the volume a hummingbird makes in flight.

“How could this be, I mean this is…impossible…improbable…how’d you know all this? You couldn’t possibly be…telling the truth could you?” the lady stammered all this and more but Ross’s words are much more important for the purpose of entertainment, I shall skip right to it.

“Well Mis, I know this because I am the government’s number one wanted man around the world, I had been to nearly every city in the world to escape their agents, who are after me just one step behind, I can never stay in one place for more than forty-eight hours, too risky, they will stop at nothing to capture me because they are afraid I will reveal all their secrets, their existence, this central government’s, is the greatest cover-up secret that’s ever been a secret on this planet, so until I cease to exist or they cease to exist, neither me or them will sleep soundly for one night. As you should know, I sleep with one eye open to be more cautious so I hope you’re not disturbed if I take a nap with my eye open right next to you.”

“What-” the lady stammered only this one word before Ross cut her off again.

“I’m guessing you’re wondering how I stumbled upon this world-class secret? Well, I’ll tell you right now, three years ago on a sunny Friday afternoon, I ordered pizza for dinner, it was pepperoni as I recall with garlic dip. The pizza guy arrived at my doorstep at around five o clock I think, and I was hungry so I rushed to the door upon hearing the doorbell ring (I lived in a flat back then in Yorkshire Britain) and when I flung open the door who do I find there but the pizza guy slumped on the floor with his back riddled with bloody bullet holes, I ducked just in time for a rocket-bomb to zoom past me and out the window at the back of the flat and exploded, then I grabbed the pizza box from the dead pizza guy and ran for my life, I didn’t know how I made it to the train station and jumped on a train to Portsea but I did and my legs carried me all the way, so by then I was hungry as a wolf so I opened the pizza box still in my hand and what do I find in there? Anything but a pizza, it was a USB, just one lone USB in a pizza box, strange I wondered, I didn’t order a USB from the store. I ordered a pepperoni pizza! And I almost got blown to bits by some unknown assassin because of it, so I decided that the USB must be important to be worth killing a pizza guy for, and when I got to Portsea I got to the library and plugged the USB in there to check out what’s it about, what I found was utterly amazing, there it is, the code to logging into channel 1000, nothing else, just that code. And that’s how I learned everything, every dirty big secret the central government has kept from citizens of the world for so long. Eventually I memorized the code and now it’s engraved on my buttocks (I had Hannibal Lecter done it himself for me, quite a nice guy he was, until I found out he cooked a man’s torso for our stir-fry that night, but it was still delicious, he’s an amazing cook if you ever happen to visit him. Did I mention he was a tattoo artist? That’s why I went to him to get the code inscribed) so I can never lose it; the USB was destroyed in Paris anyways, after a fight against James Bond atop the Eiffel Tower(James was the government’s top agent). I never found out the whereabouts of that pizza guy who was killed at my doorstep that sunny Friday, he may have been an agent for the world resistance group, which I know exists, they sent the pizza guy to recruit me to their rebellion and I sworn loyalty to their good cause and I will not let them down!”

The woman sat in stunned silence beside Ross, they paid no attention to the violent swings and swooshes the plane is making and the altitude it’s loosing.

“Now, see the suspicious swings this plane is making?” Ross glanced forth and fro at the other passengers who are all looking quite concerned at the situation. “We’re heading into that cyclone, and you know what else? That cyclone is no ordinary cyclone; it was engineered by the government to take down this flight, because they know there’s a twenty percent chance I will be on it, and they struck goal (they have a knack for guessing correctly), so now they will make the cyclone will hit our flight-path full-scale and plunge this plane into the Pacific Ocean, that way we’ll all be eliminated, especially me, their number one wanted man in the world, they can say goodbye to me being a pain in the butt for the past three years and finally sleep soundly tonight. We’ll all perish and they won’t give a thought about it.”

The lady was a little near the danger of an emotional breakdown now and can no longer doubt Ross’s story even if she wanted to, Ross Layton is a very convincing man.

“What about my family? Gosh they’ll be devastated!” the lady sobbed, almost there.

“They’ll be informed of the crash that has taken place, the wreckage will never be found, the funeral will be head, and that’s the end of that.”

“NO! I don’t want to DIE!”

“Oh but you don’t have to Miss, because I can get me, and you, out of this plane and to safety, you don’t have to thank me, I’m just doing what a good Samaritan does, help people. I of course know the way out of this cyclone because I heard every single thing from channel 1000 and I know all the details behind it and how to get out of this. You, me, we’ll survive this! Now that I’ve told you all this, it’s time for me to reveal one last thing, I, Ross Layton, agent 0014 for the world resistance group against the government, recruit you, to fight for our cause. If you say yes, we’ll escape together, I shall contact my pal Che and tell him to pick us up to show you around our secret headquarters, then you shall learn our ways and become a resistance agent, also known as Agents of Secret Stuff, or A.S.S. for short. Your life will open to a life you can’t even dream of in your wildest dreams. Trust me.”

Without another word, the lady passenger next to Ross leaned over and kissed Ross square on the lips in a passionate kiss that would have shamed Ingrid Bergman. Then the plane lurched again and the radio came on: “Mayday! Reginald 174 into 340…we’re going down! I repeat we are going down! Do you read me…we are going down…” Ross winked at the lady as everyone began to panic, “What I tell you.” He said. Ross got up from his seat, swiftly smoothed his dress-shirt and tie, and said “wait here, Miss, I shall be right back from preparing for our great escape!”

Actually, Ross got up to go to the front-quarters bathroom, and investigate the source of that uncanny announcement in the meantime. He smiled for himself at the brilliant story he cooked up right on the spot and told the lady next to him, such a shame it’s all a big fat juicy lie, when he get back he shall tell the lady that it was all a lie and that he’s a pathological liar and that no cyclone will hit the plane anytime soon, maybe a strong current though. That’s when he noticed the cockpit door was open, he found it strange and strolled up the aisle to investigate, and upon noticing Anna Hunt and Rubin Salenkovitch arguing something along the lines of terrorism, cheerfully shouted a hello and got a punch in the gut (karate style) from Anna. Ross uttered “oof” and went down to the ground.

Continued

Meanwhile, Fredrick Stewart (the boy who rushed to the bathroom as Anna observed earlier on), seventeen years old, wears glasses, thin as a twig, was busy vomiting in the toilet at the back of the plane. Fred came toAustraliato study marine biology, but due to his allergy to “seaweed”, he was relieved of his studies and returned toCanada, on flight 174. Fred had taken anti motion-sickness pills, a whole bottle of them, before boarding Reginald 174 (also know as Nimrod airlines, after a new executive came on board), maybe that wasn’t such a great idea after all, but since Cassandra insisted, and since Fred rarely receives any advice of an insistence manner from a girl, he complied; and even now, vomiting his heart out, he still doesn’t regret it. It’s not that Fred had eaten any of the food that was served to the passengers thirty minutes ago, that would have made him sick even harder, Fred had always kept a strict diet of four servings of fruit or vegetables per day, meat and dairy thrice a week and grain products every other day; the well-being of Fred’s stomach depends upon this diet. No, Fred only took a bottle of anti motion-sickness pills, and that is the black goo retching out of his mouth in the bathroom right then, he never could have thought that a bottle of anti motion-sickness pills could cause so much disturbance to his stomach and produce so much vomit, probably it has to do with the plane shaking so hard, must have caught a draft, he thought weakly. Fred’s stomach had been prescribed 59 different medicines, and his body altogether had taken in 198 different medicines in his lifetime. Fred has infrequent asthma, motion sickness, and allergy to a tenth of the natural and artificial matter or objects in existence. He had contracted 39 diseases in his childhood years, 2 of them previously unknown to humans. If it weren’t for potatoes, Fred would have never survived beyond his infant years. There is one food that for unexplained reasons Fred can always eat without risk and often improves his physical health, and that is potatoes, brown, raw potatoes; so now, Fred always carries a few raw potatoes in his ever-present knapsack, already so full of books, pills (since Fred’s condition requires special medical assistance, he alone is allowed to bring drugs onto a plane), and vitamin water. The plane hurled on, Fred hurled on (not paying attention to the announcement accidentally made by Rubin from the cockpit), and outside on the panicking plane, three rows from the washroom, Ruth Antcliff is trying to take a nap.

Ruth Antcliff is a dark-skinned, tense eyed, quick minded mature looking girl 19 years of age, with an aroma of mystery always present around her. Today is a good day, she thought, a nice break from all the running and chasing she’s been doing for the past two months; it all started (but really began long before that) when her father, a respected Zulu chief, went missing without a trace, at the same time, an attempted assassination of an important South African government official, one crucial figure in foreign affairs with the United States, occurred. It wasn’t long before the South African police found out about the coincidental disappearance of Mr. Abrahem Antcliff, and thus pointed their fingers at his only daughter, Ruth Antcliff. What did those guys expect, it runs in the family? Ruth thought, she didn’t know about any of it until the police came to her door, and she had to break the jaws of two of them and steal their car to escape to the train station while being chased by a helicopter and twenty squad cars and having then to hide in a boxcar train to leave Johannesburg and then stowaway on a ship heading for Australia, what a thrill ride, an annoying thrill ride also. As a matter of fact, Ruth isn’t even a pure-blood Zulu, her mother which she never knew, was Polish. Those guys are such idiots, Ruth thought, for chasing her to the other half of the world and still at her tail.

Ruth paid no attention to the violent swinging and hurling downward movements of Reginald 174, she only tried to take a nap and enjoy the good flight to Canada where nobody will look for her, but the vibration and the sickening sounds of the kid vomiting in the bathroom three rows down kept her up, and she is slowly losing her nerve, if she had to use the small knife concealed in the pendant (shaped of a Zulu peace symbol) hanging around her neck just to make the kid shut up, she’s do it, and to give the pilots of this plane a piece of her mind, she’s also use it.

Then the kid in the bathroom gave an especially unpleasant wretch and Ruth couldn’t take it anymore, she got up from her seat, and was thrown back down again by a sudden violent tipping of the plane, that’s it! Then, an announcement came on that made everyone panic: “Mayday! Reginald 174 into 340…we’re going down! I repeat we are going down! Do you read me…we are going down…” Ruth got up abruptly from her seat, taking long strides down the aisle to the cockpit, finds the door ajar, and barged in finding Anna apologizing to Ross who is on the floor gasping and…laughing? Rubin looks lost in the middle of this mess, and even more lost upon seeing Ruth barging into the cockpit like this, but only Ruth sees the view of the plane on its crash course, the plane has broken free of the clouds, and is hurling towards the barren mountainous desert below, resolution of the ground is becoming alarmingly clear to the human eye, and that is not a good thing, at all.

Ienna Holsson knew the signs, the first unusual swing the plane produced told her everything, this plane is going to crash; of course, she didn’t yell that out, didn’t say anything to the young, quiet looking fellow seated next to her, who is reading a book on Australian plants, a botanist, she thought, they’d make a neat couple, she then thought, and reddening, she erased that thought. Being a magical healer in the world of average human beings isn’t easy; there are tons of things that can cause a magical healer to lose his or her secret identity, one key give-away is the color of the iris, healers have rainbow-colored iris, so they rarely look at anyone in the eyes, and if they do they’d have to go through the trouble of explaining a particular brand of contact lenses which they wear for fashion; a particular rainbow-colored brand of contact lenses. A magical healer and a botanist, far-fetched, but certainly intriguing, yes, they’d make a neat couple; Ienna’s thought returned to her, they’re both young and look like the same sort of people…in appearance anyways.

Back on the thought of the plane crash, she didn’t worry too much, healers can sense things before they occur, spoiler, yes, safer, also yes; she’d summon her magical shield the moment before impact, and she’s be out of harm’s way, as long as she can support her shield until the blow-up cease. She have it all planned out step by step, now the subject of her debate is whether she should save the fellow seated at the window seat, the one next to her.

The young fellow seated next to Ienna is Sven Morika, Australian aborigine, wildlife biologist and botanist (Ienna guessed close enough), 18 years of age a week ago. Sven considers it a fortune of luck to be seated next to this attractive girl on his first trip out of his native homeland; he’s heading for Canada, to continue his study on wildlife biology and adaptation, if only he can work up the nerve to talk to her, maybe she’d be interested in plants; the book he’s reading, maybe so but he can never be sure, Sven’s life of 18 years had always been riddled with uncertainty, and it looks like this day is not the day of the great shift, when his flower will blossom and he will open up to people, that day he will be sure of himself and never have the shadow of a doubt ever again, he’s sure of it. But this is not the day of the great shift. So Sven continued his reading, well aware of the unusual flight patterns Reginald 174 is making, but saying nothing about it.

“Mayday! Reginald 174 into 340…we’re going down! I repeat we are going down! Do you read me…we are going down! We are losing control over the plane…we are losing radio contact…both the pilot and the copilot…disabled! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! SOMEBODY HELP!” the announcement came out of the blues and both Sven and Ienna looked up towards the tiny circular speakers mounted overhead above their seats. Indeed control of the plane seems to be lost, for a few violent swings issued from the frame of the plane. “Oh.” This is the first word Sven said all flight.

“I guess they’re not keeping it a secret.” Ienna said to her self.

“Looks like it…WHAT SHOULD WE DO? OH GOSH, OH GOSH!” Sven had not been this scared since he was 6 years old, and he was separated from his parents; they were never heard from again. That time it was brief; they came in the night, there was screaming and struggling in the dark, then the screech of tires and the truck drove away leaving a dazzled Sven on the front doorstep, rocking back and forth until people from the local village found him next morning. It is doubtful whether Sven can survive a traumatizing experience like that again, and now here it is. Sven began to bawl, however embarrassing it sounds.

Seeing Sven at a state of his, Ienna stopped the debate in her mind on whether she should save this young fellow or not, he had just spoken to her (almost), and the decision is made, he’s going with her. Ienna gives Sven a pat on the back that eventually turned into a loose hug while the plane rocketed towards the ground and while a snapped Sven sobbed on amidst 400 panicking passengers, 2 unconscious pilots, 4 of our 7 heroes arguing in the cockpit, and the other unaware and still puking in the bathroom.

Right before the plane head struck the hard rocky ground, Rubin from the cockpit made a desperate grab for the control wheel and heaved it with all his might, this caused the plane head to rise up sharply and the tail to slam the ground first. Upon contact, the plane tail is bit by bit torn and smothered apart by the forward motion of the plane as its hull scraped the desert, beheading a few gophers whose heads are poked out of their holes at the unlucky moment, generating sparks. As the tail and underside of the plane are torn apart, luggage and passengers spilled simultaneously out of the gaping plane backside; the washroom in which Fred puked in detached from the plane in one piece and tumbled across the desert ground, coming to a rest among a few tossed-out and dead passengers, luggage, and chunks of metal. Ienna activated her magical shield just as the floor below her and Sven’s feet collapsed, and they spilled from the main body of the still rocketing plane in a transparent protective bubble, it rolled along the desert a bit with the raining scraps and came to a rest as a large chunk of the plane hull landed on top. The rest of the plane (its wings have long gone) sped on and wedged between two rocks side-by-side on the mountain plains, upon impact to the wedging rocks, Rubin broke away and flew from the cockpit and landed in a tree some two hundred meters away, Anna is knocked against the control board and suffered a gash to the head, she went limb and a pool of blood gathered around her head, which rested on the belly of one of the terminated pilots, as for Ross and Ruth, they dropped to their stomach and lay flat enough in time to avoid sustaining major injuries. Then the plane engine exploded and all was quiet.   

That rounds up our Order, 7 strangers, 7 unsuspecting people tossed together by one disaster, about to come together, sharing a common destiny, isn’t this epic? Let’s give Rubin Salenkovitch, Anna Hunt, Ross Layton, Fredrick Stewart, Ruth Antcliff, Ienna Holsson and Sven Morika a big applause (especially Sven, he needs someone to cheer him up).

Stay tuned for chapter two!

Finally finished!

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Published in: on 2011/05/09 at 10:34 PM  Comments (5)  

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5 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Kool job my friend! Sorry if I pressurised ye though.

  2. Now I’m doing my music Assignment and I’m using Rebecca Black’s Friday as the piece to suit the tragedy of innocent lovers, Evangeline and Gabriel, separated by British back in 1750s in Acadia, called Nova Scotia nowadays.And I accidentally found the Glee version and original one again. Glee’s one sounds like a gaylordique( sorry to bloke Glee casts though) and nothin’ helped me to remedy my ear-bleedings. Rebecca Black’s one, It’s unmistakably horrible and lunatique mishap.

  3. whoa! lots of writing there, my friend. and watch out for missing letters (e.g head instead or heard)

  4. Gosh! You’re right I’m sure, even though I haven’t tracked down that head yet. So, what do you think? The spellcheck is annoying that way, it doesn’t check for inadequate words in a sentence.

  5. Additional information
    Rubin Salenkovitch is a huge fan of Quebec Nordiques, the NHL team which is won Stanley Cup at that season 2017-2018 before new one will start. Check the new 1995 logos and jerseys. He wears that.
    Sven Marika came from an Aboriginal tribe in Eastern Arnhem Land,NT,Australia where still a developed civilisation of Aboriginal culture still remains.
    Thank you
    Radames Dhinawan


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