Hark! What is that over the horizon?! 'Tis Flint! And he brings with him more fun! What? More fun? I have enough fun on my plate for a week, you say? Well, lump it, you jerk! Here comes more!

Black Friday: The Darkest Night

Friends, your turkey is done. The stuffing's been stuffed. The cake is no more. The cranberry sauce is... well, it's still on the dinner table, collecting dust. Time for a good night's sleep and-

NO! STAY AWAKE! There is more to Thanksgiving day than food and family! In fact, forget the family! They can't or won't help you for what is to come. Consider all that gorging you did today carb-loading for tomorrow morning's festivities.

For tomorrow morning is Black Friday. And woe be to he who is unprepared.

For the uninitiated, Black Friday is the Friday after Thanksgiving. This is when all the major stores have their big "door-buster" (gotta love buzz words) sales, like large television sets for $100, countless crappy DVDs for a buck apiece, and other equally useless items all at insane discounts, all meant to draw suckers like us into the store, empty our wallets and leave. This day is also known for its body count. People die for savings, friends!

Don't be a victim of high prices/being trampled to death! Let me, Flint, theO's #1 authority on sales, self-defense, and tacos, arm you with the most powerful weapon you can have in this upcoming war against the masses for a heap of Transformers action figures at seventy-five cents: knowledge.

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-First, preparing for Black Friday starts with physical training. You need to be faster, stronger, and better than the overweight soccer mom standing in line in front of you. Begin by running 3 miles daily for the week prior. Take up a martial art, like taekwondo or judo. This is key. You must have an unarmed combat skill handy in this environment.

If your reading this, like, right after Thanksgiving dinner, and you haven't trained a bit, hope is not lost! Drink lots and lots of Red Bull, eat a bowl of pure sugar and watch the 36th Chamber of Shaolin a few times. You'll do fine!

-When entering the bargain-hunting fray, you must choose the right clothing. What you wear can determine the success or failure of your Black Friday excursion!

One would assume that wearing the most comfortable clothing would be the best thing to do. After all, you'll most likely be waiting in line for several hours, surrounded by a gang of stinking 40-somethings. Nothing could be further from the truth. To go into this in a t-shirt and jeans is a recipe for bruises, gashes and a slow, horrible death.

The most important thing you'll need is a thick jacket. Nothing cute, nothing sassy, nothing stylish. Think "arctic survival" here, friends. This serves two purposes. First, it's winter. The coat will keep you warm while you stand outside the locked doors of the store of your choosing. Second, the padding provided by the jacket can potentially save your life in the event of fistfights, stabbings, and human stampedes.

You should wear tight pants with straight legs and heavy boots. Wearing baggy pants or boot-cut pants can lead to a dangerous situation, like getting caught on a display of printers, or allowing a grappling point for an enemy in a department store melee. The boots will allow you to quickly and comfortably traverse a broken landscape with your parcels intact, and can be used as weapons to flee from an angry shopper.

It would be wise to invest in a helmet. At least bring a baseball cap along. Any kind of head protection is good head protection. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, WEAR ANY KIND OF WIG. You WILL get it caught on something, somebody WILL pick it up, and you will go the rest of the day bald and with nothing to protect your cranium from the purse of a vicious grandmother.

-Choose what you're looking for before you go to the store. Look through the ads of different stores. There are lots of sales today; almost everyone is offering some cool stuff at low, low prices! Pick an item, find the store nearest to you, and stake it out.

Try to pick out only one or two items only. More than that is impossible. Remember, you're going to be vying with half your city's population for these items. Do you really think you have the skill, cunning, strength and fortitude to get EVERY item in the ad without succumbing to murder?

An important psychological tool in this war, children: do NOT expect to get what you came for. Yes, this goes against everything Sun Tsu wrote in the Art of War. "Victorious warriors win first, then go to war", yadda, yadda, yadda, yeah, I read it, too. Dump it. This will lead to heartbreak. You're going to be out at four o'clock in the morning, fighting several hundred middle-aged man-children for a barbie doll. Just try to have fun, huh?

-Develop a strategy! You will need it for the coming war. First, analyze your party. Take an inventory of their skills. Who is the fastest? The strongest? Who is expendable? If you're going it alone, you may want to take along an ipod and play Iron Maiden's "Run to the Hills" for the duration.

Figure out which item you want the most. DO NOT FORGET THIS ITEM! This is your trophy, the reason you woke up at three in the morning. If you walk into this without a set goal, you will be walking into a warzone for no reason.

Get to the store as early as possible, and wait in line. If you get there late, do not be deterred. You will just need to work harder. Wait patiently until the doors open, or until you are allowed to grab your items. Do not do anything stupid that could get you ejected from the line. Do not bribe others to get closer to the front of the line; this WILL backfire on you most assuredly.

When it's time to get your items, walk at a brisk pace. Running will cause a panic or, God forbid, a stampede. There will be people much larger than you, who will use their considerable girth to their advantage. You may have to meet their might with your own. Get the item you are questing for as quickly as possible. Do not take it from somebody's basket or fight a person for it. You do not know who that person is, or what he/she is capable of. Chances are, many of these people are not playing with a full deck. Cradle your trophy with both arms. Do not casually hold it, like this is a normal shopping day. Remember how I told you not to take things from people? There's a good chance people will try to take things from you. Grasping your item closely will prevent this.

Quickly, quietly, and as stealthily as possible, make your way through the chaos and pay for your items. Try to pay with cash; you don't want to be in a situation where your credit card is declined. You will have fought off an angry crowd for nothing!

After paying, sprint quickly to your getaway car. Keep in mind that, at any point, an old person may spring up to take your items for themselves. Be prepared for combat! Keep your item in your lap as you sit in your car, and drive away as fast as possible. Then, go home and take a well-deserved nap!

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Using these tips, you too can have a successful and fun Black Friday! So, gas up your car, dust off your football helmet, put on your steel-toe Doc Martins, and ready your nerves for the melee ahead!

After all, there's a $98 Nintendo DS at the Wal-Mart down the road! I gotta freakin' have it!

-Flint

Using the Release of 'New Moon' to Pick Up the Ladies!

Gather 'round, boys! We've got a valuable opportunity here! A new film in the Twilight series has arrived, and... waitaminute-

GET OUTTA HERE, GIRLS! This is for dudes only! We don't need you all coming around here with your feminine wiles! Just press the 'back' button on your browser, 'cause we don't need ya! But please, leave a favorable comment before you go. Please?

...are they gone? Good. Okay, boys! As I said, a new Twilight movie just came out. Now's your chance to pick up some hot ladies! There's a lot of females who read or watch Twilight, and not just annoying, jabbering 13-year-olds! If you're attending a college or University, chances are every lady on campus is watching Twilight. EVERY. LADY. And now Twilight, the scourge of the literary world, can finally prove useful to saps like us for picking up some fine fillies!

Hold your horses, Lothario! You can't just walk up to a chick and say, "I saw Twilight, wanna go steady?" That's a surefire way to get a palm to the face and a bruise to the ego! What you need is strategy! And that's were I, Flint Marco, the coolest mad genius on theO, come in. I have picked up countless ladies! I've had females of every race, religion, and sexual preference slap me across my handsome face! I have a large scrapbook full of old restraining orders! I know how to artfully pick up the gals using the Twilight technique, and now, I share my secrets with you.

First off, let's talk about the way you look. To be blunt, you look stupid. I mean that in the nicest way possible. Nothing about you screams sexy vampire. You are in desperate need of an image makeover if you ever hope to attract the vampire set. Here's some tips, bucko.

-Get a fauhawk or a pompadour , like, nowish. Chances are great that, currently, you have one of three hairstyles: a short, reasonable cut, long hair, or bald (by choice or by heredity). Get rid of it. You look so human.

-Dress in tight clothing all the time. You probably dress in loose-fitting, comfortable clothing because you're a dude, right? When playing this field, you must throw out your dudeship and embrace your inner vampire. Which, apparently, requires dressing like a total douche. Don't look at me. I don't make the rules. Moving on...

-Shave all the hair off of your body. Seriously, get rid of it. Vampires don't have hair, except for their great-looking scalp. You look like a gorilla in a t-shirt.

-Pour body glitter on every inch of your body. Vampires twinkle in the sunlight now, it seems. If you don't sparkle, the ladies will KNOW you're not a vampire. For added effect, don't wear a shirt when you go out. Yes, I realize it's winter. Sacrifice, my friend, sacrifice!

Okay, now you look like a vampire, which is cool. You look in no way completely ridiculous in broad daylight. Take off that baseball cap! Vampires don't know about baseball! That's why they're vampires!

...wait, they DO know about baseball? They PLAY baseball?! Since when?! Do they have their own league or something? Do they know how much the Red Sox suck? Wow, I really gotta read that book.

Which leads us to our next lesson: you gotta read about Twilight, dudes. Sorry, but you gotta. Notice how I said "read about", and not simply "read". Avoid reading the books at all costs. If any dude catches you reading Twilight, they WILL lay into you like nobody has ever laid into you before, and you WILL deserve it. Go on Wikipedia, look up a synopsis, know who the main characters are, what their powers are, all that garbage. Memorize it! You'll need it!

An important note, men: DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES READ ABOUT ANY OTHER VAMPIRES BESIDES THE ONES THAT APPEAR IN TWILIGHT. Real vampires have different weaknesses and powers than the Twilight boys. I'm thinking Edward Whatshisname has the power to kill Wolverine and can call Doc Brown from whatever time period he's in, I don't know. That's why real vampires are interesting, and Twilight vampires are... well, Twilight vampires.

And now, the hardest part: using your newfound vampiric looks and knowledge to pick up some ladies! You look like you lost a fight with a Bedazzler, your clothes look like they came from the toddlers' section at the JC Penny, and now the ladies can't keep their eyes off of you.

DO NOT APPROACH THEM! This is fundamentally wrong. If you simply go up to a fine female, your mystique will disappear. The lady will look you over and either know you are not a vampire but rather a pretender, or realize how outrageously ridiculous you look (although this is unlikely).

Instead, stand far away from them. Appear brooding at all times. Sneer and scowl at them from time to time. When you walk, walk quickly, hands clenched into fists. Speak to nobody, not even friends (if you simply must communicate, use the text-messaging feature on your cellphone). The ladies will be drawn to you like flies.

Don't talk to them! In fact, pretend you don't notice them. They will pine over you like a golden idol for several days. Finally, they will say something to you. Whatever it is, you MUST answer with an insult, a threat, or a generally rude comment. Note that I said "rude", not "vulgar". Keep your insults appropriate for a Disney Channel show. You may also mention a hatred of werewolves in passing, but DO NOT direct the comment towards her! Whichever you choose, that will make the girl drawn to you even more! But, the courtship is not over!

Now comes the most beautiful part of the vampiric-courtship ritual: watching the girl sleep. This is without a doubt the hardest part, as you will most likely be breaking several laws in your area. However, it's all for true love, so it's no big deal. You'll need something to cut glass, some gloves, and if the girl lives on a second story, a ladder or a grappling hook.

Quiet is key in this part! If the girl or her parents hear you at any point, you are DEAD. They'll throw you up the river, pal! First, establish where the girl's room is. If it is, indeed, on a second or (God forbid) third story, use the ladder or grappling hook to gain entrance. If she lives four stories or more off the ground, forget about her. It's Chinatown, man.

Unless she's living in Candy Land, she probably has her window closed and locked. That's cool though; you came prepared. With the precision of a cat burglar, skillfully cut open the area of glass right above the window lock. Open the window, and crawl in silently, like the wind. When you're inside her room, take a seat. Watch her sleep. It's not fun at all, no sir. You might want to bring something to read. You can leave at any time, just don't wake anybody up. You might want to keep a time card to write down when you watched the girl sleep, and for how long. Why you'd do this, I don't know. Something to keep you busy, maybe?

If you use these steps, you'll be knee deep in swooning ladies! You'll be the envy of every guy on campus! You'll be tired, broke and miserable, sure, but who cares! You're a vampire now, apparently! The ladies LOVE you! And, friends, that's all you really need, right?

Seriously, though. Twilight sucks.

-Flint

Hurrican Unpreparedness: Proper Procedure for Fun!

Remember the good ol' days? Back when hurricane season was fun?

I certainly do. I live on the United States Gulf Coast. I lived through the horror that was Katrina. I survived the muddled and demoralizing nightmare called Rita. I was huddled in fear at the overall non-event begotten by Dean.

Back in the day, we had tons of new hurricanes popping out of the woodwork, all ready to kill us with the quickness of a cobra. I remember fighting the crowds at all kinds of grocery stores, wholesale stores, hardware stores, army surplus stores, gun stores, auto stores, and every other place willing to take your money, all in an effort to equip myself with the proper gear to ensure the survival of myself and those around me. I remember the 11th hour decisions; do we stay here (and potentially drown or be killed by brigands), or do we take our chances out on the road, trying to escape to safety (and potentially drown or be killed by highwaymen)? I remember trying to sleep through the storm, knowing that, at any God-given moment, the very house I was sheltered in could implode or be swept away by the Hand of the Lord. I remember the long, mind-numbing blackouts that would last for weeks, arguing with the air conditioner, attempting to bargain with it by offering it batteries and wires to eat.

It was abject terror at its worst. It was the time of my life.

This hurricane season, however, has been nothing but lame. L-A-M-E. No flooding of any kind, no destruction of entire cities, no horrible deaths, no highwaymen or brigands. This sucks. I'm going out of my mind with boredom. Every May, I stock up my panic room (and by "panic room", I mean my closet) with all the emergency rations and holy items I can find. Now, I can't even use them! Come on, Wrath of God! Smite me with a mighty storm! I didn't buy 400 cans of spam for my health, 'cause Lord knows it ain't healthy!

Now, in the wake of potentially the lamest hurricane season ever, I will impart to you, the reader, one of life's most important lessons. You know how to be prepared for hurricanes. News outlets shove the information down your throats. Old people vomit the spiel all over you as you enter the grocery store. Talking heads jabber your ear off with the sound bites to the point that it's impacted in your brain. Now, Flint, theO's renegade genius and handsomest bachelor, will teach you how to be... unprepared.

Unprepared? Why on Earth would you want to be unprepared for a hurricane? Seriously, hurricanes are nothing to joke about. We've all seen the power of these storms. Entire cities sunken, buildings crumbled, death tolls in the hundreds. I want to live, Flint! I want to live!!

First off, shut up your face. Second, think about this: Life Kinda Sucks. The economy's in the toilet. Unemployment's up the yin-yang, and climbing. Bret Hart's been retired for years, and I don't think he's coming back. People from other countries want you dead for no reason. And if your anything like me, you're thousands in the hole, with no hope of paying it back in the next ten years. What's the point of living? Furthermore, while we're on the topic of not living, if you're going to die, do you want it to be all over the news, like you're some kind of martyr? Wouldn't it be nice to just be part of the hundred-strong dead pool? Now you understand the joy of hurricane unpreparedness!

Okay, You know why. Now, you must know how. Being unprepared for a hurricane starts before a hurricane is even close to your vicinity, and it requires a great deal of effort on your part. Watch the news. Does it say anything about hurricanes? Anything at all? As an unpreparer, it is your job to spook the rest of society during this time. Here's the proper procedure for spooking the public:

*If you see a category 1-3 hurricane anywhere (ANYWHERE!) in your vicinity, it is your obligation to get everyone as terrified as possible. Why? Two reasons. One, you're helping boost your city's economy by making everyone else (not you) buy survival equipment. Second, you're riling up the public into a horror-fueled stupor. That's fun! To do this properly, you should carry around some kind of holy book, and speak to anyone you see about how deadly past hurricanes were, and how Nostradamus/John Keats/Sitting Bull prophesized the end times would be brought about by this particular storm.

*If you see a category 4 storm headed your way, it's your job to talk down to those preparing for rough times ahead. Basically, you're trying to make everyone around you feel as stupid and helpless as possible. Why are you putting up boards on your window? The value of your house just decreased by thousands, stupid. Why are you buying all that bottled water? That's nothing but liquefied plastic and carcinogen cocktail, moron. Canned food contains enough sugar and salt to give you three heart attacks, idiot. Leaving for El Paso's a great idea, if you want that gang down the road to take over your home and have sex with dogs on the bed your children sleep on, you good-for-nothing sack of crap.

*If you see a category 5 storm headed your way, now's the time to show what your made of. Walk into the local supermarket. Everyone will be hustling and bustling, buying anything they can think of to ensure survival. Now's the time for you to purchase that new television you wanted. How 'bout a new PS3? Eight boxes of Oatmeal Cream Pies? A Crate of day-old bananas? Go wild! Buy things that make no sense to survivalists. Perishables, entertainment devices, and hair-care products. Buy them en mass, and make sure everyone is watching. When you leave the store, that tough-looking biker buying all those canned yams will look you over and say, "Man, did you see the guy who bought all those ding-dongs? Man, what a badass!"

Your loaded down with all that new swag, and the rest of town's either bunkered down or outta town. The hurricane's just hitting your area. Now, you have to think of what to do during this time. After all, you’re not trying to “survive”. You’re trying to have fun! Here’s some fun things for you to do while you’re waiting for all the damn rain to stop.

*Catch up on all those video games you haven’t finished and all that anime you haven’t watched while the power’s still on. When the blackout inevitably happens, you can act out your favorite anime/video games for anyone around you! Think of them as a truly captive audience!

*Take a ride around the neighborhood! If you drive a large vehicle, like a truck or an SUV, bring along a boat! This way, when the torrential rains flood the streets to the point where they’re undriveable, you can continue your urban excursion by boat! And, since pretty much anyone with a brain will be gone, downtown will be all yours! Let that upscale nightclub try to deny you entrance due to your ridiculous clothing sense now!

*If you live by the beach, have a cookout! Make sure you have everything you need: a good grill, some steaks and franks, whatever you like to drink, maybe some graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows for s’mores, and a thick rain coat. Just think of it. The entire beach is yours! Until that storm surge takes it under, of course.

*Don’t forget to look out for news reporters. This is your big chance to make it big on television! Oh, sure, you can speak about your experience during the storm. But what Hollywood bigwig will take notice of a Johnny Nobody whining about some rain and lightning? You’ve got to turn on the theatrics during this time! Develop a persona before going in front of a camera. Really ham it up during any interviews. Make sure to use plenty curse words and vulgar phrases. Then, wait by your phone. When the power comes back on, Scorsese’ll be giving you a call!

Eventually, the storm will pass. Humanity will crawl back to what’s left of their homes. People will rebuild that which has been destroyed. Provided you’ve somehow survived, your fun doesn’t have to end! Now is the time when you show your community how much of a badass you really are! Make sure everyone knows you stayed! Tell the others they’re cowards for running, and you spit on the ground they walk on! How dare they run out on the city?! Remember to take anything offered by any state or local help programs, but contribute nothing yourself. You don’t want to look soft in front of those city-leavin’ yellow-bellied cowards, now.

Now you are knowledged, my friend. You now know the benefits of hurricane unpreparedness. Now, go forth and prosper. Look to the darkened sky, and yell, “Screw your wrath, God! I’m all about the fun, and stupid tropical winds ain’t gonna stop me from havin’ it!”

Apples: A Beginner's Guide

How's it going, Mr. Walking Corpse.

Yeah, I'm talking to YOU, picture-of-non-health!

Don't look around like that! My stinging barb is pointed directly at you! You and the rest of your modern, eat-anything, forget-about-nutrients society! With all the garbage you and everyone else eats, the human race is bound for extinction in about thirty years! I tell ya, something needs to be done, and it needs to be done, like, nowish!

That's where your oldest, truest and healthiest friend, Flint, comes in! I have lives for over two decades now! That's much longer than most mammals live! In those decades, I have learned the secret art of perfect health. This one plan for success in healthy living has been heavily guarded by ancient old guys with nothing better to do than guard things like this using deadly martial arts. But now, thanks to the bravery and foolishness of one such as I, the world will know the secret to long life! What is it? Why, it's a new diet, silly!

Oh, come on! I can hear you groan through my speakers! "Sweet baby Jesus, a diet?! I ain't up for that! I'm perfectly content stuffing my face with funyuns and deadly cholesterol-packed pickled hog brains to ever consider changing the eating pattern that's slowly digging my own grave!" It's not that bad, joker! In fact, this diet contains one food that you always eat! At least, one food who's flavor your used to since you eat gallons of artificially created sludge packed in cardboard "cereal bars" which claim that's the flavor. What is this mystery substance? What superfood can lead us out of fatty Hell and into health-filled Valhalla?

Apples, my friend.

Yes, a diet consisting completely and solely of apples will repair the horrific damage you've done to your own body from years of binge-eating on things that aren't even food! Apples will do wonders to that tiny, shriveled, dead thing killed by too much manga and television you once called a brain! Apples will take us soaring above the terror that is our own custom-made, deep-fried doom, fly us out of artificially-sweetened Hades, and finally land in healthy Heaven!

Are you convinced? Splendid! Now you can begin your new life as an applevore, just as God intended! But wait! I foresee a problem! When visiting the produce section at your local grocer/farmer's market/swap meet, you discover there are many hundreds of apple types! Which one is the best?! Fear not, my fine apple-fueled friend! I, Flint, shall give you the rundown on the most important apples on the shelf! So put down that twinkie, pick up that cultivar, and prepare to enter a world you never knew existed! Here's...

APPLES: A BEGINNER'S GUIDE

RED DELICIOUS- This is probably the apple you think of when you think of the word "apple". Totally mainstream apple. Parents and kids love red delicious because it's so damn accessible! I hate red delicious, and you should too. Do you really want to be associated with something five-year-olds and balding men going through a mid-life crisis are loving? Of course not! Consider red delicious the "stand-by" in case there are NO OTHER apples. Even in the situation wherein there are no other apples besides red delicious, don't rule out eating your own flesh for sustenance.

GOLDEN DELICIOUS- Red delicious' older, cooler brother. Consider golden delicious the "Ken" to red delicious' "Ryu". The two taste practically the same, but you look cooler eating a golden rather than a red. Take a note of that, it's important. Golden delicious may also be the most ironic of apples; while it's called "golden", it's actually green.

PINK LADY- Not just the name of a Japanese singing duo/horrid American sitcom, pink lady apples are the most feminine of apples. If your a young lady wishing to look rather charming around town, consider chomping daintily on one of these suckers while you take your afternoon stroll. Don't forget to wear your cutest sundress and carry a frilly parasol.

GALA- The "Sam's Club" of apples. You can find these apples in more abundance in any produce vendor than even red delicious. Some apple enthusiasts, myself included, believe gala to be the scourge of the apple kingdom, the cultivar equivalent of the pigeon. To be quite honest, most people wouldn't mind if the gala variety died off tomorrow. The good thing about gala, however, is that nobody gives a crap if you eat it, so your social status will not be harmed if you are seen in public eating this. However, neither will it rise. Consider gala when you're REALLY hungry, and don't care what you eat.

FUJI- There are many legends behind the appearance of the Fuji apple. Some experts believe that the fuji variety grow at the peak of Japan's Mount Fuji, and are only available to humans through a considerable effort by a team of Japanese yeti monsters. Some say that the apples are grown in the world's biggest orchard by professional wrestling personality Mr. Fuji. Still others claim that the folks over at FujiFilm have somehow developed the technology to create apples from pictures. Whichever the case, the fuji is the preferred cultivar of the tech set. In short, eat this and look geeky.

BRAEBURN- The history of the braeburn apple is quite colorful. It begins in a plantation in pre-Civil War Georgia, where a slave named Tobias Braeburn toiled endlessly picking apples for his master. One night, Tobias snapped, grabbed a basketful of apples, marched into his masters' mansion, and proceeded to belt the sap with cultivars until he died of massive brain hemorrhage. That night, Tobias Braeburn freed his brethren, and from that point onward, he aided in the Underground Railroad, protecting those seeking freedom armed with nothing but his trusty apples.Braeburn apples are consumed by freedom fighters around the world still today.

GRANNY SMITH- The infamously sour granny smith apple gets its name from the first nintey-year-old woman to be put to death in the state of Texas, Bernice "Granny" Smith. Smith began her career as a train coach robber in post-Civil War Texas. She eventually moved from coach to bank robbery, sometimes killing every innocent soul in the establishment before making off with the ill-gotten money. Finally, she got so brazen that she'd simply burst into people's houses, shoot their dog, drink their liquor, stay and chat awhile, and finally shoot the first-born of the family in the leg before taking the second most expensive item the family owned (she did not take the most expensive item due to ethical reasons). When she was captured, she was sentenced to have a green sour apple shoved down her throat until she choked to death. Even now, bad men get a bite out of granny smith apples. It's even said that Al Capone requested granny smiths in his cell in Alcatraz.

SUMMERFREE- The most whimsical of apples. These apples are consumed to feel the sheer joy of a warm summer's day. The legend goes that summerfree apples originate from clouds in the sky, and are only available to humanity through the gusts of summer winds, which carry the apples to Earth. If your ever in a funk, feeling like the world is against you, like you don't have a friend in the world, just look to the sky, and bite into a summerfree apple.

PACIFIC ROSE- The end-all, be-all of apples. The king, the big boss, the messiah of the cultivars. Pacific rose apples are the most mythical of cultivars, said to be the ripest, crunchiest, must flavorful of apples. To describe the sensation of eating one of these fantastic fruits is beyond the capability of text, but I will attempt it:

Imagine you are in the produce section at your local supermarket. You are standing in front of a large crate of apples. You grab one, and lift it up to eye level. It is massive in your hand. It is bright pink in color, with red and yellow stripes. It is cool to the touch, and beacons you to take a bite. You cannot resist. Your teeth take a chunk. Instantly, your mouth is filled with a very distinct flavor. It is not an apple. It is not anything you have tasted before. It is Pacific Rose. And it will be the finest thing you will ever digest.

This has been but a short list of the different kinds of apples that exist just outside your door. Yes, hundreds upon hundreds of apples exist, each with its own story and unique flavor. So, what are you waiting for? There's a whole new world out there for you to explore! So put down that Hot Pocket, put on a coat, race down to your local market, and grab as many apples as you can! Your mouth will thank you, as well as your body!

Ludwig's Choice

A malnourished ninji jumps up and down continuously in front of the large door leading to my father's chamber. I look into his eyes and see nothing. No fatigue. No anger. No joy. Nothing. His small feet hit the ground softly, and without a sound, his knees propel him back skyward.

I can no longer stand it here. The endless armies of koopas patrolling the outside perimeter, wandering the hallways, looking for something to do. The suffering of my fellow siblings, seven of us locked in large damp gray rooms, each of us slowly being consumed by madness or our own devices, while the newest addition to our ranks is put on a pedestal, worshiped like the second coming by our deadbeat father, while we seven are forgotten. Most of all, though, I can no longer stand being associated with my father, the eternal failure. Endless attempts to capture a princess for no real reason besides the fact that she's of a different, more highly-looked-upon species, only to be defeated by a fat man in a mustache and his cowardly brother. Tired of seeing him defeated by that fat man at anything you care to name. Kart racing, tennis, baseball, eating, bomb dropping, fire-throwing. I cannot take life here any longer.

Today, I will leave this place. But before I do, I have to have one last word with my father.

Roy stands next to me in front of the large red metal door leading to my father's chamber. He is sweating. When is he not sweating? The boy has a self-image problem. He is constantly working out, always trying to compensate for his unfortunately-colored shell and head. He wears sunglasses where ever he goes, to hide his scared, shifting eyes. He's a nice boy, he really is. I just wish he'd get over himself. He adjusts his sunglasses nervously, then glances over to me.

"This is it, eh Luddy?" He says to me. I can smell what he had for breakfast. It annoys me.

"Yes. Father will not be pleased with our decision. Are you sure you are willing to go through? I will not hold it against you if you pull back," I answer him. I'm not sure were I picked up the European accent from. Comes with the name, I suppose.

"N-no way, man! I'm totally ready! Just go in there... go in an' tell 'im what's what! Then, we're out!" Roy says. I can hear he is very nervous.

I am nervous, as well. I have never thought of living outside this castle. Sure, I have spent my time in fortresses in different lands, but they were all modeled after my home. All of them, built of dark gray stone, all dark and damp, torches used sparingly to light the way for the fat man's inevitable break-in. I close my eyes tight, and try to remember why I am here.

I think of my current living conditions. A large room with an old cot, a feeding trough and a broken chemistry set from Koopa knows when. I think of the birthdays my father's missed, the successes I've accomplished while my father rooted for my failure. I think of Larry begging father for permission to attend community college, so he could make something of himself and not become a monster and failure. I remember my father's anger, throwing fireballs at Larry until he ran screaming from his chambers. I remember the wails of sorrow coming from his room for nights after.

I remember Wendy being kicked out of the castle by father for being insubordinate. The night before she left for Del Fino, she told me she'd send letters to me every other day. She was gone for a year and a half. I received exactly two letters. The first, a few days after she had left, was a rather cheery affair, describing her excitement and mild fear about a new life on the island, how she had gotten a job selling churros, and the odd-looking inhabitants of the island, and how they looked upon her with disdain. The second came about a year after the first. It was scrawled on dirty paper with what appeared to be lipstick. She begged me to tell father to let her back into the castle. The creatures on Del Fino hated her. She lost her job in weeks, and with no talents besides being a trained child terrorist, took to living on the streets, first panhandling for coins, then taking up petty robbery. Naturally, I asked father for permission for Wendy's return. He looked me in the eyes, and told me he would in a few months, after she suffered a little more. When she finally returned, she was a husk of the vibrant young girl I grew up with. She spends her days locked up in her room, living in a catatonic state of fear.

I remember Morton's coin troubles, and my father's refusal to intervene. To this day, he's in such massive debt, it seems like all he does is work in those caves. I remember the day Iggy finally succumbed to his psychosis, and my father's lack of emotion to his son's illness. I still visit him every day; he lays in bed all day, either convulsing violently or ranting about things that make no sense.

I remember the day Bowser Junior entered our lives.

I cannot STAND it here!

I clench my fists together. My maw scrunches up in anger. My fury is at it's peak. I will go tell my father what I think of him, then I will leave this hole on my own terms. I turn and glare at Roy. He jumps slightly at my visage.

He hesitates. "Dude... you ready or what?"

"Roy. Are you serious about this? Because when I leave, I will never return. I'm going to burn this bridge today, and NEVER look back. Can you make that choice?"

Roy stares in my angered eyes. He is terrified, I can see it. He takes a step back. He tries to say something, but nothing comes out. He again adjusts his sunglasses. For a moment, he is as still as a statue. Finally, he extends his hand to me. I take it. We shake firmly. Roy thrusts himself forward, and hugs me. I do not respond in kind. He turns his back on me, and walks down the gray corridor with his eyes cast downward.

I refocus my attention to my father's chamber. I summon my anger once again, and throw open the metal doors. They fly open, and hit the walls with a loud thud.

My father is sitting on that ridiculous metal throne of his. Bowser Jr. is jumping around, playing some silly game with which I care little about. Upon hearing the doors' thud, he quickly looks up from his favorite son and notices me for the first time in years.

"Ludwig?!", my father bellows. "What are you doing here?! Didn't I just buy you a new chemistry set to mess with?!"

"Chemistry sucks!" Bowser Jr. adds.

"Shut up, you stupid little runt! I'll rip your eyes from their sockets and cut open your belly until your entrails fall to ground!" I scream at the child. Obviously not used to such verbal abuse, Bowser Jr. retreats behind father's throne. Father stares at me with his jaw hanging. He takes a moment to gather his thought.

"How dare you speak to my son like that, Ludwig! If I wasn't such a nice guy, I'd-"

"I AM YOUR SON! You have six more sons and a daughter you care nothing about, and I am sick of it!" I yell. I begin matching toward my father. I feel my knees quake in fear and excitement. "I want you to know something, Bowser."

"What did you call me, boy?" father tells me. "You will adress me as "Father"."

"You are NOT my father! You are a horrible monster! I want you to know something! I am leaving this terrible place! And I am never coming back!" It gets hard to breathe. I am speaking so loud and so fast, it's hard to catch my breath. I must go on, however. "Before I go, I want you to know EXACTLY what I think of you, Bowser! You are nothing but a sick bastard and a horrible father! All I ever did was try to live up to your standards! I led the entire Koopa air force! I lived in that Godforsaken Dinosaur Land for MONTHS so you could fight that fat man you hate so much! All I wanted was your approval! And what do you do?! YOU ABANDON ME! You abandon all of us for that bastard you call 'Junior'!"

"Don't make fun o' my dad, jerk!" Bowser Jr. yells, poking his head behind father's throne.

"Stay out of this, you little shit!" I bark at him. He goes into hiding once again. Father tries to get a word in, but he appears speechless. I try to help him by adding some dialouge of my own. "I'm not living like this anymore! I know I can make it on my own, and not become a miserable, broken-down failure like you! I hate you! I will always hate you!" I say with all the anger I can muster.

I look into father's eyes as I glare with my fists clenched. I am prepared for the volley of fireballs or hammers he will surely throw my way. His eyes are filled with tears. His mouth quivers. His hands, clenched in fists as tight as mine, finally lay open, motionless on the arms of his thrown. He grunts. Then he turns his head away from me. I see Bowser Jr. poke his head from behind the throne once again. I bare my teeth and snarl, and he yelps and hides.

I turn my back on Bowser, the king of the Koopas, and the father who had abandoned me and six of his children. I walk silently to my room to get my things, already packed and ready to leave this place. My legs carry my swiftly. My head feels light. I feel like a great burden has been lifted. My time in this prison under my abusive father is over. Now, a future brighter than that of the sun of Desert Land shows itself to me. I smile for the first time in years.

Wish me luck, siblings. And... good luck to you as well.