Philly''s P-Hine{t} /> Hardcore Phant-[o]m$ Part One Chapter IX

IX

August 31^st, 2014

11:22 p.m.

“OOOOHHHHH!!!!!”

“GAAAAHHHH!!!”

“Stay still!!!”

Herb was sticking the Brand™ to Randall-

>’Psssssstttttttttghhhh’: was the sound of burning flesh! ===OOOO<

“F**K YOU!!!-”

Randall PUNCHED Herb in the arm, the arm he was holding the Brand™ with, and then ran off like a dog playing fetch, forcing Herb to drop the Brand™ to the ground to then begin nursing his manly bicep so as to avoid more pain (it didn’t help). If not already apparent, or for a needed emphasis on what was really important here, Randall was pretty wasted-

Quietly, Herb, still nursing his arm, “ow…”

“BAHAHAHAHA!” the peanut gallery howled like #A******s #America(SorryGuys:/).

“It hurts!” Herb yelled at them. There was a loud splash as Randall jumped in the pool.

“Is he supposed to be jumping in there?” Herb asked. “Won’t that f**k up the Brand™?-“ before being interrupted by Barry.

 “-No you idiot. There’s a s**t-ton of chlorine in there, it’ll clean it out-“

“Well, I know that for tattoos-“

“That’s the ocean dude, don’t go in the ocean.” -Al.

“Oh, right.”

Herb wasn’t too sure Al was right. What were the specifications, exactly (for specifications, see ‘References’, (1) on page 316)?-

Randall finally got out of the pool a few minutes of s**t-talking later and walked aggressively (sloppily) back over to the group. He took another quick shot from off the table before-

“I mean, what a f****n’ loser, who would get their gamer tag Branded™ on themselves?-”

“Yo, what was that, Barry!?”

Randall slipped on the concrete just as he finished antagonizing and fell like a drunken idiot. Everyone laughed. When Randall got up, he immediately ran to Al-

“What the f**k man? You think you’re hardcore???” Randall said and got real close, all up in Al’s grill like he was about to make out with him or something (ew). “Get Branded™!” Randall continued yelling. “Get Branded™ B***H!!!” and then he PUSHED him, but Al was a decently smart guy, it would seem (apparently smarter than most).

“Dude, why would I get your gamer tag Branded™ on me?” he said. “I’m not R-Man, you’re R-Man!”

“That’s am.. �"mmvb /> good point!” Randall turned back around, looked at House and pointed.

“You!” he cried! And House just replied, “nah man, this is my house, I can’t have my parents knowing I got Branded™.”

“Touche! Hershel!?”

“What- dude, are you serious?” Hershel went into panic mode. “House’s excuse didn’t even make any sense-”

“What the F**K do you think Hershel, you F****N’ P***Y!? Get Branded™!!!”

“Dude, no way-” Hershel said, backing away with his hands up (like a p***y). “I’m not f*****g doin’ that-“

“YOU F****N’ B***H DUDE! YOU THINK YOU’RE HARDCORE OR WHAT!?-”

“No. No, I don’t think I’m hardcore,” backing up and raising his hands to show he wasn’t going to do anything with them. “You’re way more hardcore than me. Like, dude, you’re the most hardcore, I could never be so hardcore to have done what you just did.“

“Oh alright.”

Clearly affected by this newfound infinite supply of self-optimism and never-ending unchangeable confidence, Randall turned slowly around, but as he did so- with the help of the concrete pole holding up House’s house (or, rather, House’s parents’ house-)- he accidentally saved himself from falling over, once again, as a result of his drunkenness.

 “AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-H-“ Barry laughed/reacted (… like a dolphin?).

“You think you’re hardcore Barry?”

Randall now spoke soft and with a confidence also strongly prevalent in his (very sloppy) walk as he slowly moved in closer to the perpetrator (Barry)- and his latest victim :o.

“What the f**k do you think?” Barry replied.

“Then get Branded™,” Randall told him.

“No, that’s f****n’ stupid, you drunk idiot-”

“Oh, I’m a drunk idiot?”

“Yea. You drank over two thirds of that Wild Blue Vodka® handle all by yourself. S**t’s disgusting-“

“Who you callin’ a p***y, b***h??-“

Randall danced his head closer, but Herb got in the middle-

“Get the f**k off me, a*****e,” and Herb put up his hands and backed away as Randall moved in even closer to Barry (now almost pinned up against a foundation supporter pole holding up House’s house- or, more accurately, the house that House’s parents owned and maintained (for the most part)-)

“You think you’re hardcore, Barry? You and your leather boots and sinful heavy metal music??? It’s bullshit. All bullshit. Hip-Hop is the way to go: Pac, Biggie, Ol’ Dirty B*****d. Kinka like you: little hardcore black-metal douchebag-b***h b*****d.”

Randall and Barry were almost nose-to-nose and Barry was showing no signs of backing down. In fact, his body movement and tone only implied that he was provoking the beast (the drunken beast (#HardcoreDrunkBeast)).

 “I’m not getting f*****g Branded™, you idiot-“

“YOU THINK YOU’RE HARDCORE!? GET BRANDED™!!!!-“

“You can’t even tell what yours is supposed to say!-“

“Again!” and Randall turned around, with his hands up far above his head in excitement. “Let’s go!!!”

Hershel was already nursing the Brand™ in the fire.

“Alright!” he said with enthusiasm. “Herb!?”

“Oh no I’m not-“

Hershel carefully handed the freshly heated Brand™ to a held-down-by-his-shoulders Herb (pinned there by a hysterically laughing House and Al) with a squinting Randall laying on his side right next to him, ready to be Branded™ on the other leg, with his eyes closed tight and ready to embrace. When Hershel gave Herb the flaming clothes hanger, Herb had no choice: he closed his eyes and stuck the Brand™ to Randall’s skin as hard as he could.

The smell penetrated his nostrils like Hell showing itself specifically, in-detail-idly*!! so bad that he thought this like a crazy person, right then and there, even though he had no time to really hold the Brand™ down and get a good whiff of it in the first place as Randall immediately got up and ran around the backyard a few times again (about three hundred square yards) after screaming in #PainedAgony!!! Everyone in the group was still laughing hard, and even harder now than ever before in the hangout area under the house of House’s deck- or perhaps House’s parent’s deck would be the more accurate description- everyone, that is /> but Barry.

Randall came back sweating and staggering worse than ever. He looked kind of like a drunk Courtney Love at that one awards show in the early 90s where-

“What’s up BARRY!? Who’s hardcore now M**********R!?”

“What are you saying now?-”

“Get Branded™ HONKY-“ and Randall PUSHED Barry hard- AGAIN!!!- forcing Barry to stagger to his feet in order to ensure his not falling over like some moron or stupid dumbass or-

Barry didn’t like that very much >B).

 “Yo, don’t f****n’ push me dawg,” he replied slowly, shaking his head, moving aggressively in.

“Don’t f****n’ push me man,” Barry repeated.

“You’re not hardcore,” Randall said back, also moving in closer. “You think you’re hardcore, well you’re f****n’ not-“ and Randall PUSHED him again so that Barry, not being wasted or in the slightest sense drunk (just really high), pushed him right back, sending Randall’s face straight into the concrete pole holding up House’s house, or, as I might prefer say, his mom and dad’s house, respectively.

>Blood<

“Ooooh.”

The laughter died off and Randall went in for another punch, but Barry was quick to dodge it. It was pretty easy for him. Randall was pretty slow and off-aim. Then Barry punched Randall hard, right in the nose.

>More blood<

“Hey, come on man!” Herb screamed. “He’s obviously wasted!”

“He started it!”

Al started trailing Barry away to get him off Randall’s a*s and try to calm him down as Herb and House leaned down to try and help Randall back to his feet-

“Wait, wait, wait,” Randall said with his left hand holding onto his bleeding nose and mouth and he stood back up. “Herb’s right, Barry. Barry dude.”

Holding out his right hand as if to shake, Randall seemed genuine (:o), so Barry leaned around Al to look Randall straight in the eye, like a man, as Al continued to try and gain his attention and calm him down. It might have worked or it might have been Randall, but Barry ended up easily walking around Al and toward his oppressor: Randall with his hand still lingering.

“Yea? We cool?” Barry asked him. “You f****n’ drunk slob?”

“Yea dude, we cool,” Randall replied and Barry went in for the shake.

It seemed like a good idea =o. It seemed like the climax of the night was over, like everything was all going to go back to being unique, special- but it wasn’t. Until now, it’d felt like it was just a normal night where somebody committed to being Branded™ was therefore- Branded™- and the man just hurt was super stoked on it as any person just having been Branded™ with a molding clothes hanger would be, but Randall had other plans. Apparently, no matter what seems and looks to be happening, the world always has a way of surprising you, even if, after the surprise, you look back and it wasn’t all that surprising-

Randall’d tricked him!

Barry felt his hand pulled in and quickly decided not to let Randall get the last laugh. After easily dodging Randall’s punch (if you could call it that), Barry let his left arm hurl to hit Randall right in the middle of his already bloody face.

Randall immediately passed out and fell, however, hitting his head on yet another concrete pole holding up House’s house- or, to be more exact, House’s parent’s space of quarters- and then, to make things even worse, he fell straight into the fire pit, knocking the thing over, as well as the case of awesome, 10.5% ABV ‘Planetary Duality’ beer that House had just recently unveiled as a surprise for everyone to enjoy (they ran out of ‘Spicy Mexican’ (as everyone always does </3)). House really was really a very nice guy-

At this point, Al, Herb and House took some serious notice. Randall’s palm quickly caught flame (#HisArmCaughtFlame!), but luckily, they were able to pull him away and put it out in time, so that the rest of him didn’t catch fire as well.

“What the f**k Barry!?” Al yelled. Randall was unconscious and on the ground. Herb had to stomp on his hand in order to save it. He did the best he could />

House screamed: “the f****n’ beer is destroyed!”

“Well, he shoulda watched his f****n’ mouth!” Barry replied.

“Dude, you’re paying for this. This case alone was a hundred and two dollars-“

“Man, f**k you. I ain’t paying you a hundred dollars-“

House, “a hundred and two!-“

“A hundred and two dollars just because Randall got too f****n’ drunk to realize how much of a f****n’ burnout he’s turned into-“

“A hundred and two dollars for a case of beer?” Al asked. “How the f**k do they make this s**t, ‘brewed with love, personally by Emma Watson and Beyoncé on the premises!?-“

“Alright, everyone’s paying for it!” House interrupted. “That’s $20.25 each unless you guys are gonna clean all this s**t up, in which case I might take off the quarter-”

“Hey, F**K YOU BARRY!!!! YOU AIN’T HARDCORE!!!!!!!!!!”

Randall came back to consciousness and tried to stand up. It was really funny if the whole thing hadn’t gotten so ‘serious’ so fast like when liberals get pissed off at good comedians for doing her/his job well :D.

“Dude, calm down,” Herb tried to reason. “You’re extremely injured right now-”

“Alright guys, I think I’m out.”

…

 “I got work in the morning,” Hershel continued

…

o.O.

Herb interrupted the silence, “dude-”

“Yea I got work early too, brah’.” -House. “You still gonna help clean all this s**t up though or-“

“Alright see ya, pals!” and Hershel was off! Up the stairs and on the drive home =DD.

Randall was quickly back on his feet and back to taunting Barry.

“You’re not hardcore man!!!!”

 “Dude, you are wasted!!!” Barry ‘calmly’ fired back.

“Not so wasted to forget that you’re NOT HARDCORE!!-“

“Alright, I think it’s time for you to come in man,” House interrupted. “You‘ve had a long day.” House then proceeded to help Randall inside his house, surprisingly completely unopposed, or: the house in which House resided, but was actually owned and paid for by his parents #MomAndDad.

Al and Herb stayed, once House and Randall were officially in the building and the door closed, looking, amazed, at Barry. Eventually, after quite the awkward silence (…), Al picked up a roll of paper towels off the bar-top and started to clean some of the blood off the concrete structure poles holding up House’s house- or, rather-

Herb quickly joined him.

Barry: “Man, f**k this s**t,” and then Barry just left.

…

Al and Herb stood and stared in amazement =O.

“Did he really just do that?” Al asked Herb and Herb sighed and said, “yea I guess he did.”

Indeed, Barry was gone :(.

“What a f****n’ toolbag.” �"Al.

“Yea I know right?-”

“Alright I think he’s finally asleep.”

House came out of the sliding glass door after putting Randall to sleep and was appalled to find what he did.

“Where’s Hershel!?” he yelled.

“He left,” Al answered. “You were here for that-“

“Where’s Barry!?”

“He left too.” -Herb.

“When!?”

“Just now.”

“Are you f****n’ serious!?”

Herb: “Yea dude-“

Al: “F****n’ bullshit, right?”

House sighed and looked around at the situation.

“Man, what a b***h,” he said with a laugh. “Thanks for starting to clean up the blood.”

“Yea, no problem,” Al replied.

“Yea, I think we’re gonna have to pay for this table too,” said House.

They all stopped cleaning and looked at the huge and tiny glass shards scattered all over the ground. It was a very nice table.

“Yea this is gonna be like, 200 hundred for each of us, easily-“

“Wait, what do you mean ‘each of us’?” Al asked and House made no hesitation.

“I mean we all need to pay for this. And the beer-“

“Dude, I didn’t do anything,” Al said.

 “So? You were here. Plus now you have a great story to tell girls, for you, that alone is worth at least two hundred bucks-“

“This isn’t a great story to tell girls, all it says is that I have really stupid friends-“

“Not all of us-“

“Shut up, Herb.”

“Dude, don’t be a dick dawg,” Herb said to Al and then shifted his attention the other way towards House. “Al’s right though: you’re rich, you can afford it-“

“F**k you a******s, that’s not the point-“

“I’ll help you clean up, but barred none from me vomiting on your nice a*s couch in there am I paying you any money for this crazy escapade.” �"Al.

“Dude, you’re helping to pay for this. Get over it,” House said nonchalantly, like it was known fact and had been for thousands of years.

“No I ain’t dawg, fuuug daaat sheeeiiiit-“

“Herb is doing his part, right Herb?”

“Man, I got medical bills and student loans- and a dog- and I work at McDonalds, I can’t afford to give you that kind of money-“

“You f*****g moochers are paying me right now. I don’t care what you say. I got two dogs- this is fucked up, what you’re doing, and you’re not copping out here-“

“Well what about Hershel and Barry?” Al asked.

“I’ll get to them later-“

Herb: “Don’t forget Randall-”

For this ironic, quick, split second here, the talking stopped and everyone could hear, very loud and very obviously, Randall’s heavy and chunky vomiting on the couch from inside. Herb had insisted that House give him a trashcan when he put him in there, but House, intelligently, didn’t listen.

 “I told you to put a trashcan in there,” Herb mumbled, but House didn’t listen, just closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration.

“I don’t think you guys realize how expensive this is all going to be.”

“But-“

“Very. Expensive.”

“But-“

“It’s gonna be very, very… expensive-“

“… Dude-“

“Like… super duper expensive.”

…

“…$$$ssshit.”

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$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