Stubhub Tickets not arrived yet

2021.10.22 00:36 luckysam78 Stubhub Tickets not arrived yet

I bought a one day GA pass from stubhub and it said that the tickets (wristband, I guess) would arrive on Wednesday of next week. I’m still a little worried since they’re not shipped yet. Anybody else on the same boat?
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2021.10.22 00:36 Ok_Plantain8096 Is $1 a mile back and forth good?

I drive a compact corolla. I make around 1 dollar a mile going and coming back. But I usually take 2 orders going in the same direction to compensate for no order on the way back. Seems like a good deal! Sometimes I'll get 2 orders for $24 going to the same place 8 miles away. What a steal!!!! But sometimes I gotta take 1 order 21 miles away for $29 and dead head back. What's the sweet spot average for a vehicle my size? $1 a mile?
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2021.10.22 00:36 CalogeroS Dog advice needed!

I have a 5 month old male golden retriever by the name of Mac. He is very sweet, smart, and such a great puppy. Me and my SO have done a solid job training him and he knows the basic commands/tricks.. sit/down/paw/spin/jump/take it/come/stay. He is potty trained and is pretty good walking on a leash.
One of the last things we have been trying to do is socialize him with other dogs. Since he was 3 months old, we have been bringing him around other dogs and having puppy play dates with friends who have puppies and older dogs. For the first few times he would just run away with his tail tucked between his legs and usually back himself up against something and if the other dog got close he would show his teeth and bark. He would never bite, if the other dog kept at it, he would just run away to another spot.
This has been extremely frustrating, we bring little treats and reward him with them or with positive praise for any good behavior with other dogs or even if he would start approaching any dog or even be in the same vicinity. We have brought him to the dog park(only when its 1-2 dogs there) a bunch of times too and that seems even worse as he usually runs to a corner and shows his teeth to any dog trying to play with him.
Last week we brought him to a friends house who has a slightly aggressive and very muscular and high energy 60lb pitbull/boxer mix and he actually had some solid playtime for the FIRST time ever(probably 25mins of total playing in a 2 hour window). We were so happy and proud of him! Then with another dog the next day he reverted, and at the dog park the past couple days he was back to his usual ways of showing his teeth, barking and running away.
I have no idea what we are doing wrong? We see other puppies younger than him playing around so nicely and he just looks miserable around other dogs.
Does anyone have any ideas? We just want him to be happy and not so afraid. Also, sorry for the long post! Will 100% upvote any comments, thank you in advance
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2021.10.22 00:36 carocosa1 CMC for Leonard Fournette and Jamar Chase?

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2021.10.22 00:36 bananariviera Broncos fans after this loss

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2021.10.22 00:36 World-Politics3766 Recent learners of code

Recent learners of code, what was the first specific resource you used that helped you learn coding? Tried a bunch of resources and they aren't good for me
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2021.10.22 00:36 Scoobert_Doobert420 Cold leftovers are exponentially better than warmed up leftovers

Cold leftovers are where its at. If you're going to warm it up, it doesn't matter how you do it -- oven, stove, microwave -- ill gladly just take the leftovers straight out of the fridge and devour them. I feel like the flavor blend together a little and marinate together while in the fridge, and I feel like warming it up in any way kind of destroys that. I think cold food trumps hot food in general, but that opinion has been said here a few times. so.. come at me!
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2021.10.22 00:36 CringeOverseer Covid antichrist and demonic 😡

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2021.10.22 00:36 Albuyeh Powerful RZBOX With AMD RYZEN 4900H Processor {WW} (10/31/2021)

Powerful RZBOX With AMD RYZEN 4900H Processor {WW} (10/31/2021) submitted by Albuyeh to giveaways [link] [comments]

2021.10.22 00:36 derstherower Team America - You are Worthless, Alec Baldwin

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2021.10.22 00:36 MHAccA 1,000+ Logins :)

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2021.10.22 00:36 Pk_Kanga So, I was able to use my tv and play Genesis/Atari a couple days ago but now it just won't work.

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2021.10.22 00:36 StandardIntrepid9018 Will amazon rehire me? When they told me to reapply after 90 days.

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2021.10.22 00:36 rabbithole_seeker looking for tips and suggestions for working at the delivery station

got a job at the delivery station, just would like to know if people have any tips and suggestions for new worker. And what kind of shoes work best for you. thx🤗
and here is a pic of my cat, hope everyone have a great day.
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2021.10.22 00:36 icydata McDavid scores 200th NHL goal

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2021.10.22 00:36 JessicaCatWoman How much money will Dune make in opening weekend?

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2021.10.22 00:36 AllergicToBULLSHI plush fly sideways very much talent

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2021.10.22 00:36 Star_x_Child Completed my first 41 hour fast last week and my first 46 hour fast today

Hi all! I just wanted to share a little victory and my own experiences as a noob at fasting. I tried fasting about 3 years ago with nothing good to say about it. I think I just wasn't ready for it.
This time around, I began at about 230 lbs (I didn't weigh myself until 2 days in so it may have been a little more at the start). I started OMAD fasting the day I started my job in Houston. I found OMAD fairly easy, maybe because I never really eat much during the day anyways, but the big benefit was condensing all my calories into a shorter window that ends at night. I was kinda hooked on it, and obviously the thing I found truly amazing was that I could enjoy delicious food without worrying about gaining weight.
Last Wednesday though, something kinda shifted in my mindset when I read about monk fasting. When it came time for dinner and a beer, I just didn't feel all that hungry. I thought, "why not give the longer fast a try?" I continued my fast overnight and into the next afternoon. I made a mistake by running near the end of my fast, and I'm just not ready to exercise at the tail end of a fast yet. I'll get there. I broke my fast at 41:45, and had a solid 6 hour window to eat. I returned to OMAD, except for weekends when I am trying to stick to an 18:6. But this changed me a bit. Realizing I can make it through a day without eating, and without feeling like garbage, changed how I thought about this process. In fact, I'm kinda interested in extending my fast and documenting as I go, to see what works for me and might work for others.
I started making my own 64 oz jug of snake juice to help with minor headaches I get during the day. I've been using 1/2 tsp no salt and 1/2 tsp sea salt, plus just a smidge of garlic salt to flavor the water (technically has some minimal calories, but it's worth it to be able to sip the water without gagging). It helps immensely.
This last week has been a terrible one. Starting last Thursday, my father in law went to the hospital for an emergency gallbladder removal, my mother in law went in for two recent hernias, my grandmother had a hemmhoragic stroke and my kiddo got sick with some bug- and Im now sick with the same bug. But I've been able to handle it all- driving MIL and FIL to hospital and going to help in the care if grandma, going to work at odd hours, you name it. I almost feel like not eating has helped while I'm sick.
Yesterday, I decided to just continue my fast again on the off chance that it would help lessen, or at least mask, some of my symptoms until the weekend. And I just kept fasting from 9 pm on Tuesday 10/19 until today, Thursday, 10/21 at 7:45 pm, when I broke my fast with some disgusting premade bone broth and ate some homemade turkey chili. I really love this lifestyle change, and I intend to work towards being able to perform alternate day fasting at least 6 days a week.
I also really enjoy and appreciate this community for offering advice and comfort to each other and just for being awesome. Thanks y'all!
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2021.10.22 00:36 PTHero [MLB Stats] The @Dodgers have set a new franchise record for hits in a #postseason game (17) and tied their record for HR (5).

[MLB Stats] The @Dodgers have set a new franchise record for hits in a #postseason game (17) and tied their record for HR (5). submitted by PTHero to baseball [link] [comments]

2021.10.22 00:36 Ashamed_Result_1458 How do you end a fwb situation when you’re attached?

I’ve been hooking up with this guy for a few weeks and I’ve developed feelings for him but he’s too busy to be in a relationship. I see him once very week or two and being away from him for that long is starting to hurt. I know I should end it but I’m having trouble letting go. Any advice?
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2021.10.22 00:36 Paraprosdokian7 Jailbreak

They knew there was a big jailbreak planned. They knew who would be broken out. They knew why they were doing it. They even knew when the breakout was going down. Steve just needed to figure out the how.
At least that's what the boys from Police Intel said. A nice simple case for the new guy. All he needed to do was to figure out the how and stop it.
Steve smelt a rat.
He'd been here a week and he could already smell the envy in the air. Drugs had been the backwater of the Police Force. Taking out stoners and outsmarting addicts wasn't hard. They fought back with their fists, if they fought at all. You just needed someone with the grit to enter the slums day after day. It attracted a type - power hungry muscle men who loved to beat down the downtrodden.
Then came Willy Wonka Westside. A genius chemist who invented drug after drug after drug, appealing to the naughty inner child of the middle class masses. Drugs to make you smarter, giving you an edge at school or work. Drugs to slow your perception of time, to make the most out of your high class hooker. Drugs to make you more emotionally observant, raising your EQ. His drugs weren't chemically addictive, but don't get me wrong, once you started taking the W, you got hooked. The status it could bring you, the power. That was more addictive than any drug.
Do you know how much harder it is to make a case against someone who has the economic power, incentive, and know-how to fight back? Against someone made artificially smarter (allegedly ahem) and who wants to cover their tracks?
Suddenly, the power-hungry plods were facing lawsuits alleging police brutality or racial discrimination from middle-class criminals. They were running rings round our lawyers. Police testimony wasn't enough to convict any more. You needed hard proof, gathered with forensic patience.
It changed the Force. Now they needed street smarts - police who could find the evidence and make it stick. Police who could run a clean case against someone with the resources to fight back.
Once the police started investigating people who weren't poor, it turned out they committed a lot of crimes too. And once the media started covering the cases, the public pressure to catch more and more white collar crooks kept building.
So here Steve was sitting in the elite Investigative Services Division briefing room trying to figure out if this case was for real.
The Chief sat across the table looking down at a file. His expression was hard to read.
"Steve, we've got a list of at least 64 inmates they're planning on busting out. Mostly rich guys we caught early on. Some were caught with Wonka drugs. Some got pinged for bribery trying to get their children an Ivy League education. Some were in for good old fashioned tax evasion.
"The case is already laid out for you. We've figured out the motive. Money. Just like everything else. Looks like they passed the collection plate around. They've got millions to fund their escape. Seems like the escape is going down in the first week of January."
"But why January?" Steve broke in. "The prisoners are located in 14 different jails around the country. We aren't planning on moving any of them at that time. The Christmas break is over so staffing levels are back to normal."
"That's your job to figure out, Detective", the Chief said.
There it was. The subtle contempt Steve had been looking for. Maybe there was something more to this case than it looked.
He let the Chief continue. "Needless to say, this case is important to the Force. We can't let some of our earliest wins just walk out the door. You must find out how they plan to escape and stop it in time. We can't look like we're weak on the rich. Read through the file. Solve the case. Dismissed!"
Steve caught up with his partner Brad at the station. Brad was a good guy, they'd been in the Drug Squad together. Brad had transferred across to Investigative Services a few years before. Smart kid, but lacked the streetwise knack you needed in Drugs. Steve thought he seemed trustworthy enough.
"So buddy, had a read of the file yet? Got any promising leads?" Steve said as they started walking to their squad car.
"No obvious connections between the prisoners", Brad said in a quiet voice. "Besides the demographics the Chief mentioned. They're doing time for unconnected crimes, they mostly lived in different cities and don't seem to know each other. Some have good prospects for parole given past behaviour, but all of them have at least a few years left to serve regardless."
"No-one breaks out of jail a few weeks before they're due for release, rookie. Oh hey, Diego."
"Hey, boys". Officer Diego yelled as he walked past marching a perp in handcuffs. The perp looked like he'd just been caught in the middle of receiving a handjob. His movements were still all jittery and jagged from the time slowing drugs.

"Sure Steve, but it's basically the only common thread besides the fact they're rich. They have a cumulative $250 million in net worth between them."
Behind them the perp tried to break free of Diego. He elbowed him in the face then tried to make a run for it. Steve and Brad didn't even turn to help. Diego caught him in two paces. Common mistake. A lot of peeps thought the time speeding drugs actually made them faster or their reaction times quicker. But it just altered their perception of time and gave them false confidence.
"Is that our lead then?" Steve said as they kept walking, "if they're rich, they'd be paying experts to bust them out. They wouldn't trust a bunch of petty amateurs."
"I looked into that angle. One guy, Alex van Zil, was an executive at Dyno Nobel. He helped steal some dynamite that was later used in a string of bank heists by some guys calling themselves the Grueber Gang. Seemed like a pretty professional operation. They still haven't all been caught."
"Looks like as good a lead as any. Good work, mate. Let's talk with van Zil, tell him we're investigating the bank heists."
The prison didn't even look like a prison. Modernist murals decorated the walls. A wall of lush foliage stood prominently behind the front counter. Soothing music piped in through a hidden PA system. It could have been an upmarket psychiatrist's office. Which, in a way, it was.
That was the problem with Scandinavian-inspired prisons. How did you know you were being punished if the walls weren't grey and shadowed, like the hearts of those imprisoned there? The Scandis thought rehabilitation was the key to reducing crime. After they realised they might have a chance of landing in prison, the electorate agreed. All the new prisons were like this. Comfortable minimum security prisons for well behaved crooks. Steve didn't like it here. He felt like a man lost in time.
Steve scanned the room. The walls were still solidly built under all the wanky paintings. The corrections officers at the front door were well armed. Appearances could be deceiving. This didn't look like an easy place to spring someone from, despite the faux leather couches in the foyer. Despite the fact this place even had a foyer.
"Detective Steven Bullock and Officer Bradley Weston?" the receptionist asked.
"That's us", Brad replied as Steve nodded curtly.
"Please follow me gentlemen. Mr van Zil will join you in Conference Room 3 shortly."
Van Zil was marched in a short time later by a burly corrections officer. No handcuffs, Steve noticed. Did you even need dynamite to escape a jail with no handcuffs?
Van Zil had a faint smile on his face. It didn't seem to be the smug look of someone with something to hide. "Gentlemen, welcome to Newgate Correctional. It's nice to have someone new to talk to. Helps break up the monotony a bit. How can I help you?"
"We're reopening the investigation into the Grueber bank robberies. What can you tell us about the Grueber Gang?"
"Only what I told the authorities before, detective. I only had one contact, Stephanie Grisholm. She offered me $5 million to help redirect a shipment of demolition materials. I didn't know what it was for - although I obviously guessed it wasn't for anything clean - but I didn't care to know. All I wanted to know was when the money would be in my account."
"Have you been in contact with Grisholm since you've been in jail?"
"Have I been in contact with anyone since I've been in jail?", he sighed theatrically. "Once you're in, you become persona non grata to your friends. What friends you have left slowly dwindle away. What is there for me to talk about but the four gray walls of my cell? Besides, last I heard Grisholm was still on the run. Has she been caught?"
"She was caught last month in South Carolina."
"There was one parcel of dynamite that wasn't used in the bank robberies. Have they found it yet?"
"No, she still hasn't admitted to its whereabouts"
"You know, I've been reading up on psychology while I've been in here. Have you heard of the Big 5 personality factors?"
"No, I haven't", Steve replied, raising an eyebrow.
"You really should learn a bit of psychology if you're going to be a detective," the criminal said, his smile broadening. "I've been reading detective novels too. I'm a bit of an amateur crime sleuth myself now."
"Are you now?"
"I sure am. I reckon Steph would rate highly on conscientiousness and neuroticism. She's no slacker. That's a different profile to your usual thief. Most criminology studies tend to find common criminals fail the marshmallow test, they have low conscientiousness and aren't neurotic. Smart drugs can't compensate for your natural sloppiness."
"What's your point?"
"I'll give you this one for free, detectives. Look more carefully at her hiding place in the Carolinas. Steph's a cautious one. She wouldn't hide the explosives in a separate location from where she was hiding. Twice the chances of getting caught."
Steve and Brad looked at each other. "And why are you telling us this now?" Steve asked the slick conman.

"I don't think you policemen quite understand how barbaric prison is. Even the lushest flower withers on the vine without water. I have no one worth talking to. My cellmate is a junkie with a brain the size of a pea. There's only so many books you can read. Come talk to me again when you have another lead. Let's see if we can crack this case open."
"Your talents are going to waste here", Brad said sarcastically.
"Exactly", he replied thumping the table, missing the sarcasm completely. "I graduated top of my class at Science Po. Now my brain is wasting away in here. I wouldn't mind solving a few real life crimes, especially to get back at those who abandoned me."
"So what else does our newest recruit have to say about this crime?"
"Only this. Stephanie wasn't acting alone. Yes, yes, I know she's part of the Grueber Gang, but it felt like she was part of a bigger operation. They paid me $5 million to get the dynamite for them. It doesn't quite seem like a good return on investment to rob just a few banks."
The hideout was a nondescript house in the outer suburbs of Charleston. Roughly trimmed hedges shaded the house from the street in an unobtrusive way. The neighbours weren't looking to watch anyway. Everyone kept to themselves in this part of town. But wasn't that the case everywhere these days? A large oak tree out back obscured the house from any surveillance drones that might pass overhead. A well chosen hideaway, just as van Zil predicted. Bonus points for the armchair detective.
The inside looked like anything but an ordinary suburban house. Evidence markers lay everywhere, scattered like leaves blown in through a window carelessly left open. That contrasted with the thin layer of dust coating everything. A few microdrones buzzed through the house making sure no one disturbed the crime scene. It ruined the neat, tasteful look Grisholm had carefully cultivated. Hard to say if she was trying to fit into the 'burbs or if that was just her personality. Neurotic to a fault. Damn it, van Zil's home school psychology was rubbing off on Steve.
"You think he's legit, Steve?"
"He might be. Prison does crazy things to your head. Or he might be looking to get out on parole," Steve replied without looking back at him. He tapped on the wall. "Solid brick all around, nothing hiding behind there."
"One thing doesn't make sense to me. If the Gruebers are going to blast him out of jail, why would he turn them in?" Brad asked as he shined a torch up the chimney.
"It's better to get out of jail legally than to blast yourself out. He might be playing both sides of the street. Besides, this is our best lead for now. The boys in Financial Forensics followed the money trail to a dead end - a Caymans trust. We have no jurisdiction there, nothing we can do.
"If van Zil is right, the explosives are going to be well hidden. But he's been spot on about this hideout. It fits the psych profile to a T. If Grisholm's that smart and Forensics have already combed the place, how are we going to find trying 6 months later?"
Steve grabbed one of the microdrones from the air and connected it to his phone. "Drone confirms no one's been here in 6 months." Steve said irritably. "Grisholm is a crook, not a tech whizz. I don't think we're going to pull a hidden lever in a bookshelf and find a secret room. The boys in Forensics are thorough, but a mountain of lawsuits have left them gun shy. Look. Everything is in its original place, nothing pushed aside. Everything carefully catalogued. Here, help me move this couch." They heaved the couch aside.
"What's this?" Brad cried out, as he spied a loose plank where the couch had been. They levered up the plank.
There, in neatly arranged rows, was enough dynamite to blow a hole in fifty more bank vaults.
"Good work boys!" grinned the Chief. "The boys in Intelligence had hit a dead end when they flicked the case to us. Forensics is still investigating, but it looks like the Grueber Gang had two sources of dynamite. There's two distinct chemical signatures in the stash you found. But for now, it looks like you've stopped the jailbreak."
"Maybe, Chief, maybe. My gut tells me this story isn't over yet. Grisholm still isn't talking. She denies any knowledge of a jailbreak."
"She denied any knowledge of the bank robberies too. She's a careful one. Won't offer anything up until we offer her something. Legal is working on a plea bargain to wheedle some more information out of her. We're passing this on to Enforcement to catch the rest of the Grueber Gang."
"Still Chief, I reckon we ought to double the guards in January. With so much money on the line, they're definitely going to have another stab at a jailbreak."
"I agree. I've convinced Correctionals to double check their security arrangements and increase the patrols. I even managed to convince them to use handcuffs for once! But this is in the hands of Enforcement now. Until they bring in the Grueber Gang, there's nothing more to do here. Enjoy your Christmas break, boys! Rules being rules, we can't give you a bonus, but at least we can give you some well deserved time off."
Back at Newgate Correctional, Brad tapped his foot irritably. "What are we doing here, Steve? Christmas is over. No bombs blew up. No one escaped. I think Correctionals would have noticed."
"We're here to see it through, rookie. They missed one escape window, but they'll try again soon. No one leaves that much money on the table."
At that moment, there was a knock at the door. The guard came into the conference room and van Zil shuffled in behind him.
"Hi, boys!" he said, smiling weakly. There was a pause. "Did you find anything at Steph's hideout?"
"There was over a hundred and twenty pounds of dynamite under the floorboards. You weren't their only source of dynamite."
"That's good to know", the prisoner said languidly. "So what's that got to do with me?"
Steve paused for a moment. "We stopped the jailbreak."
"Did you?" smiled the fraudster, "that's a real pity."
"You aren't going to ask us to help reduce your sentence?"
At this, van Zip seemed to come to his senses a bit. His eyes regained their characteristic sharpness. "I was hoping you might bring it up. It's better to say thank you than to beg and say please."
"You'll have to give us more. What else do you know about the plot?"
"I've been stuck in here for a year twiddling my thumbs. I only know they planned to bust me out with that dynamite."
Steve and van Zil bandied about for a while longer. To Brad, it quickly became apparent that van Zil really didn't know any more and that Steve's heart wasn't in the questioning. Finally, van Zil yawned. "Gentlemen, it's been nice talking to you, but it's almost dinner time." He gestured to the guard and shuffled out the door.
Once the door was closed, Steve exclaimed, "What the hell was that? Last time he was begging for us to stay longer and talk about his personality quizzes, about our investigations, about anything at all. Now he's bored? It doesn't make sense, rookie."
"And he seemed slower, less sharp. He just didn't seem himself."
Steve nodded. "He almost seemed drugged. I think we're missing something big here. I expected him to play up his contributions, but he didn't want to give us anything. Did they get to him first? Have they changed their plans for the break out?"
"How could they have gotten to him, Steve? They've doubled the guard and we asked them to keep an extra tight watch on van Zil. No one's contacted him or touched him since we talked to him. Not even in the mess hall."
Steve rubbed his chin. "When I hear about drugs and doing the impossible, I think of only one man. Westside Wonka. It makes sense after all. His operation is the only one I'd trust to pull off a heist like this if I was in jail. We should have followed the money trail to him earlier."
"But no-one knows who Wonka is or how to contact him. How are we going to find out how he drugged van Zil? If he was drugged at all! We can't just force him to do a blood test, he has rights."
"I'll teach you a trick, rookie. Every cop has one source they don't lock up. In exchange, when you get into a tight squeeze like this, you ask them for the word on the street. There's no way she'd tell me about a secret plot to bust a bunch of rich dudes out of jail. But she might know about a new way of drugging people."
They pulled up outside an ice cream factory. The pink sign out front - Papa Giovanni's Cones - made an ugly contrast with the thick black smoke billowing from the chimneys overhead.
"Steve. You can't seriously be telling me Westside Wonka actually owns an ice cream factory!"
"This isn't Wonka's operation. Melissa's the competition. She was the queen of drugs back when that meant cooking crystal meth. We think he originally chose the name Wonka as a jab aimed at her."
"But why an ice cream factory?" Brad said, tugging uncomfortably at his civvie clothes.
"You'd be surprised how many chemicals and equipment you need to make high grade amphetamines can be found in an ice cream factory. None of the prohibited stuff of course but nobody suspects the ice cream man."
"Isn't it a danger to the children? How can we keep her around?"
"When she was queen, she was untouchable. She had real cred as a leader of the business community. We could never get enough evidence on her or her top crew to bring her down. There was always a fall guy to take the hit. Once she got knocked off the top spot, it became a case of better the devil you know. Melissa's not needlessly violent, not like some other old school gangsters. But she's subtle and ruthless. It works for her and it works for us. Keeps the bodies off the streets where we would have to notice them. Now she's helping us keep Wonka in line."
"How is she doing that?"
"Competition. Once Wonka knocked her off her perch, we knew she'd want revenge. She slips us a few tips once in a while so we look like a tough cop on the beat. And she stops Wonka from cornering the market. That would be bad for everyone. Once he conquers the market, the only ways for him to keep growing aren't pretty. Selling to kids. Bribing cops. Killing government officials."
They approached the front gate and Steve spoke politely to the gatekeeper. "Mr Bullock and Mr Weston to see Ms Smythe please. We have an appointment."
"Follow me, gentlemen. I'll take you to her office."
They crossed the front yard where workmen loaded crates onto trucks. Bradley wondered what was really in those crates and where they were going. The men were big and buff. Were they really thugs in disguise? He could see why people like Steve became old and grizzled after working too long in the job.
They passed gas canisters and vats of chemicals as they walked in the front door and up some metal stairs along the side of the factory floor. The guard gestured to Melissa's office further along the galley overlooking the factory floor.
Conveyer belts and contraptions whizzed and whirled beneath them. Giant vats of ice cream were stirred by mechanical arms before being scooped into containers by even more robotic limbs. The men in orange safety suits below looked like small imps in the giant factory beneath them. It really was like a scene from a Roald Dahl movie. Bradley quietly mourned his lost innocence.
"Gentlemen, come in please", purred Melissa Smythe, one time queen of meth. She sat crossing her legs on a high desk, smiling knowingly at them. Her long, sleek, black hair rolled down to her waist. "How can I help you?"
"We're here about a prisoner we found who looks drugged. But prison records show that no one's been in contact with him and everyone who works on the staff is clean. Do you know any way someone could have gotten past security to slip him those drugs?"
"How many prisoners do you think have been dosed up?"
"Just the one. No one else near him in the prison has been affected."
Melissa laughed unsettlingly. "Did you not think to check the other 63 prisoners?"
Steve and Brad looked at each other mutely.
"Westside Wonka helped 64 high profile prisoners escape from jail and none of you noticed? Every single one has been drugged. Oh, I expected better of you boys!" She said, cackling some more. The detectives shrank in their seats. "How many years did your prisoner have left to slum it?"
"Five more years with good behaviour."
"I'd say he has a month left."
"But how? I thought you said he'd already broken out!"
"Well, to him it will feel like a month. You see, Wonka found a way to reverse his time slowing drugs to speed up the perception of time. He's found a way to make them last for years. Have you noticed your prisoner spends all his time in his cell meditating or exercising? It helps the time slide smoothly by, he barely notices the sand draining out of his hourglass."
"That doesn't explain our original question. How was he drugged?"
"Nothing that high tech. They flew in microdrones under the cover of night and drugged him. Prison security hasn't quite caught up with the 22nd century yet!"
"And how did you find out?"
"Oh boys. This is my job. I need to know what drugs my competitors are pushing. We'd been studying his time slowing drugs to try to copy them. We recently heard he'd been experimenting with the time speeding drugs. And he's been crowing about his jailbreak ever since New Years. It's the talk of the underground. I just put two and two together."
"Well, thanks for letting us know, Melissa. We can bust these guys and throw them into an even deeper prison cell now" Steve blustered, desperately trying to regain any semblance of control.
Melissa just laughed some more. "Wonka has outmaneuvered you at every turn. I don't know the details but he seems pretty confident it's over. Well good luck boys. It looks like you'll need it." She said, dismissing them with a wave of her hands.
The Chief's handlebar mustache drooped, making him look even more like a walrus the usual.
"So we've confirmed every part of Melissa's story now. All 64 prisoners appear to have been drugged. Anecdotally, a lot more prisoners are starting to look stoned. We don't allow glass windows in jails - no sharp objects - so more microdrones can just whizz right in."
"But we can stop this, right Chief? Drug possession is banned in prisons!" Bradley squealed.
"Drug possession in jail is banned. Being drugged in jail is not. It's a neat little hole in the law because no-one thought there was a difference between the two. Legal says our chances of winning in court are pretty low."
"But we can change the law, right? We can close the windows. That seems like a slam dunk."
"We can't impose retrospective criminal laws. Legal tells me it's unconstitutional. We can try changing the law to stop more inmates escaping in future, but it takes time and it'll be a struggle. Changing the law or seeking funding for microdrone detectors would be difficult without revealing our fuck up. And the Minister is definitely not going to want to do that. I've informed the high ups and I'm going to fully brief the Minister right after this." The Chief's hands trembled a little. "It might be best if you boys gave me some time to prepare."
The detectives left the Chief in his office to think for a while alone. Eventually he glanced at his watch, sighed, and picked up a folder. He headed to the departmental secure videoconferencing room. The large screen showed someone was already on the line - "Hon. Minister for Justice and Correctional Services". The Chief quelled a moment of panic before he sat down and collected himself. He joined the call.
The Minister, looking severe as always, appeared on the screen. Beside her was a dark haired woman he couldn't quite see. Perhaps a ministerial adviser.
"Afternoon, Minister. Let me start by apologising on behalf of the Police Force and Corrective Services for our collective error," he said, hoping against hope that spreading the blame might save his job.
"And so you should, Gerald. This was a big screw up. Thank God the press hasn't gotten wind of this yet. So 64 people have escaped their jail sentences. Our police and jails can do nothing to stop this happening again. And this is all perfectly legal. Is that right?"
"Yes, Minister", he said after briefly considering every and any way he could have said no.
"Fortunately, I do know some competent people. Do you know Melissa Smythe, CEO of Giovanni's Cones? She's a generous supporter of our party."
"We haven't had the pleasure of formally meeting. Good day, Chief Weatherington."
"Minister, this is a secure call! How could you let a known criminal into a briefing like this?"
"Ms Smythe is an upstanding member of the business community in this town. No admissible evidence has been produced linking her or her company to organised crime. She has a plan to preserve all our reputations. If we agree to it, she promises to go clean. That is, she'll do a thorough supply chain audit to ensure there are no irregularities in her business, to ensure there are no links with the illegitimate drug trade. If you would be so kind, Ms Smythe."
"Certainly. Although there is nothing illegal about Wonka's jailbreak plan, it's not exactly legal either. There's no patent over his drugs. Anyone can reproduce them. If the Government were willing to co invest in our research program, we could replicate his drugs and use them for the public benefit. It currently costs several billion dollars a year to run this country's jails. It would cost even more if we had to place fit laser beams over every window to stop microdrones just flying in. We could instead give prisoners a choice. You can go to a physical jail and languish for several years. Or you can be given time slowing drugs that make you feel like you've been rotting for several years. The cost savings would be enormous. An investment of a few million dollars in us will yield billions in cost savings each year."
"How does that solve the problem with the jailbreak?"
"It also gives the Government an excuse to regulate and the money to pay for anti-microdrone tech. We will need to pass legislation to allow for time-slowed imprisonment and we can slip in some provisions banning the unsanctioned use of time-distorting drugs." The Minister explained.
"We're all saved!" cried the Chief.
"Not quite. I'll still be expecting your resignation letter on my desk by the end of the week. Ms Smythe tipped off Police Intelligence about this plot months ago and you've been completely ineffective. Goodbye, Gerald."
Melissa winked as the screen shut off. "Been nice working with ya. Chief!"
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