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Post
#292770
Topic
Possible last chapter for Harry Potter Book 7 (POTENTIAL SPOILERS)
Link
https://originaltrilogy.com/post/id/292770/action/topic#292770
Time
(POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT)
I found this on 4chan so don't expect it to be real
































Burbage dies on pg. 12
Hedwig dies on pg. 56
Mad-Eye dies on pg. 78
Scrimgeour dies on pg. 159
Wormtail dies on pg. 471
Dobby dies on pg. 476
Snape dies on pg. 658
Fred Weasley dies on pg. 637
Harry gets fucked up by Voldemort on pg. 704 but comes back to life on pg. 724
Tonks, Lupin, and Colin Creevy have their deaths confirmed on pg. 743

19 years after the events in the book:
Ron has married Hermione, their two children are named Rose and Hugo
Harry has married Ginny, their three children are named Lily, James, and Albus severus.
Draco Malfoy has a son named Scorpius
The epilogue shows all of the children boarding the train for Hogwarts together.
The final lines of the book are: "The scar had not pained Harry for 18 years. All was well."

Plot Spoilers

Part of Voldemort's soul was implanted into Harry whenever he used Ara Kadvara on him when he was a baby. Harry then sacrafices himself a la Lilly Potter style, which allows him to kill Voldemort without killing himself. He brings himself back to life using a wand and a rock
Snape went to the good side (Hogwarts, etc.) because he was all emo that Voldemort killed Lilly Potter

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:: DELETED
- M
Post
#292070
Topic
The Ten WORST Things to do During a Zombie Outbreak
Link
https://originaltrilogy.com/post/id/292070/action/topic#292070
Time
A wave of Zombie survival manuals have popped up recently, this blog included, telling people what they should do during an outbreak of zombies. Thing is, nobody’s talking about what people shouldn’t do during a zombie outbreak.

Fortunately for you, our Zombiephile has scoured popular zombie movies and has isolated the Ten WORST Things to Do During a Zombie Outbreak. Sit back, enjoy, and take notes, Zombiephiles.
Ten WORST Things to Do During a Zombie Outbreak
10) Don’t set zombies on fire. Burning zombies smell terrible.

zombies-dont-burn-them

We’re not sure why you see it in every zombie movie, but it stands to reason that the only thing worse than a zombie is a flaming zombie. Remember, it can take a long time for a zombie to burn to death - more than ten minutes, in some recorded cases. Do you really want a burning zombie lighting you and your friends on fire? Play it safe - chances are good that there won’t be any fire-fighting infrastructure during a zombie outbreak if things get out of hand.

9) Don’t get sentimental. Zombies won’t.

zombies-dont-get-sentimental

Sure, it’s your house. Sure, they were your family and friends. But now it’s a zombie nest, and they’re zombies. Stick around, and your best chance is to become zombie food - worst case, you’ll end up a zombie like the rest. Zombies don’t have any feelings - neither should you.
8) Don’t forget to shut the door behind you. Zombies often arrive without calling first.

zombies-lock-the-door

Were you born in a barn? Zombies might not be the brightest, but they know an open door when they see one. Keep your suburban zombie fortress secure by remembering to close and lock the door behind you. And don’t slam it either! Zombies hate that.
7) Don’t keep zombies in the basement. Even if they are your zombie family.

zombies-not-in-the-basement

Devotion to family and friends is touching. However, you don’t want them to be touching you, after they’re dead. Do yourself a favor and make sure you put zombie friends and family down properly. Remember, there is no zombie cure, and keeping them around only prolongs their suffering and increases the risk for everyone. Besides, do you really want to get eaten by your buddies?
6) Don’t try to reunite with friends / family over long distances.

zombies-dont-try-to-travel

Seems like a great idea, doesn’t it? That’s what everyone thinks. Look, do the math. If you leave your house at noon, heading toward your mum’s, traveling 3 km per hour, and a crowd of zombies leaves the general vicinity of your mum’s at the same time, heading toward you at 1 km per hour, what time will you get eaten by zombies? Skip the math and consult rule #9.

5) Don’t go down. Zombies can go down too.

zombies-dont-go-down

Zombies can’t climb. You can. In light of this, why would you ever choose to go down, rather than up? Stay out of basements, gullies, sewers, and anyplace else that zombies might unwittingly wander / fall into and be unable to get out of. Remember, it’s unlikely that a human would be in a sewer, but zombies don’t care a whit about the smell.
4) Don’t broadcast your presence. Zombies may be listening.

zombies-dont-broadcast-yourself

Zombies that still retain their ears have been statistically shown to have above-average recognition of bassline frequencies. If you absolutely must blast music while killing zombies, do it on your Ipod, and you might want to consider delaying that block party until after the zombie outbreak blows over. During a zombie outbreak, remember to turn your cell phone to vibrate - it’s only polite.
3) Don’t stand in front of the window. That’s just foolish.

zombies-avoid-the-window

You’d think this one didn’t require stating, but apparently it does. Windows are an aesthetic defense against the environment, not protection against zombies and the living dead. Once you find your fortress, barricade the windows as quickly as possible and stay the hell away from them. Whatever you do, don’t deliver speeches with your back to them.
2) Don’t get too creative with zombie defense.

zombies-dont-get-creative

Sure, chainsaw slits in your van seemed like a good idea at the time, before you filled your car with fumes and exhaust, passed out at the wheel and got yourself sawed in half. The temptation to get very creative with zombie dispatching can seem almost unbearable at times, but when it comes to killing zombies, that old adage applies: Keep it simple, stupid!
1) Don’t be “that one asshole,” in your group.
zombies-that-one-asshole-01

Textual analysis of zombie movies has proven that “that one asshole,” a character ubiquitous in zombie and survival horror movies, only stands a 4.32% chance of surviving until the end of the movie.

Later studies have challenged that figure, citing several movies in which “that one asshole” was one-upped by “the other, bigger asshole,” who then assumed “that one asshole” status.
zombies-that-one-asshole-02

What do these figures mean? Being nice matters. To dramatically increase your chances of survival, make sure you always have “that one asshole” traveling in your party with you, otherwise you might end up playing the role of “that weak douchebag,” a similarly ill-fated character.

IMPORTANT NOTE: If you believe you are already “that one asshole,” you should immediately leave your group. You might be able to pass as “that Kevin Costner anti-hero” if you’re traveling solo.

http://www.zombiephiles.com/eat-my-brains/zombie-outbreak-ten-worst-things-to-do/
Post
#291945
Topic
Funny stories
Link
https://originaltrilogy.com/post/id/291945/action/topic#291945
Time
I got a vasectomy.

I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and reasonably good company.

I did NOT tell her about my vasectomy and I always used a condom with her to protect against STDs. She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used for birth control. Silly girl.

We date for a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she brought it up ocassionally. For me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. For her - as I was to find out - it was part of life-changing series of events that she was planning very carefully.

Four months into dating, I get the "I'm pregnant" talk. She's going on and on about how the condom must have broke and now we really need to think about getting married "for the baby". She's positively giddy. She has a baby in her and she thinks she's gonna have a good meal ticket (me) to go along with her new 7lb annuity.

At this point, I'm just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse "oops" on her. I figured that she slept with some bad boy and got knocked up. Good thing I was using condoms! Better still that I have a serious mistrust of women who can't think beyond their own uteri.

So I wait a couple of days to "think about all this." I meet her again. I say I don't want kids and that she should have an abortion. I know where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely batshit insane on me. There were the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute of it.

Well, I let her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awful emails. I'm laughing hysterically.

It was time to drop the hammer. While she was stewing I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWO test results indicating a "negative test result for sperm" to show I'm sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, I get a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also, the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I'm ready.

I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents I have prepared.

She's all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly - or so she thinks. We talk about our future. We have some pretty good sex. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the $64,000 question. "Are you sure that this baby is mine?"

Well, she goes batshit insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is ANY question about my paternity. Oh, she's really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do I think she's a slut. I'm just trying to weasel out of my responsibilities... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I'm not really mad. I'm kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won't shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral self-righteousness that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has worked. Oh, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself and I am about to hack through them with a few pieces of paper.

I reach into my pocket slowly. I extract the three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.

I tell her simply, "You're screwed".

Her look doesn't change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.

I continue. "I am sterile"

Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women's logic. "You're full of shit. You're trapped and you know it."

I hold up the letter and the test results. "Three months before we met, I had a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine."

This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. "Bullshit, those are fakes."

I was ready for that. "No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It's a simple letter to you that states if you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is, to prove that your baby is not mine."

I give the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It's a small cry at first. Then it becomes deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.

I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.

Epilogue -

I never heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my friends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians, bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.

The Moral of the Story -

Get a vasectomy but keep it a secret.
Post
#291935
Topic
Funny stories
Link
https://originaltrilogy.com/post/id/291935/action/topic#291935
Time
Now, I'm sure many of you have encountered little shits in supermarkets. Little kids running about and knocking things over, being rude, walking all over their parents, you know the kind. But the worst are the biters. Yes, those little cunts that feel it is okay to bite you whenever they feel like it.

Okay /b/, here's the best part. A biter got me today when I was grocery stopping. He broke the fucking skin, too. This was when the gears started turning, the moment I saw a tiny sprickle of blood on the little shit's teeth as he was grinning at me like the little cunt he is. I made my eyes get wide, and started screaming "SHIT! SHIT!". Now, my good friend, Tom we'll call him, was there too, and he instantly picked up on it. He started shouting "FUCK! MAYBE HE DIDN'T GET IT! FUCK!". By now, the kid is scared shitless and starts crying, and instantly, Mizz Mom appears out of nowhere and starts getting pissy at us for yelling at her kid.

Here's the kicker, I look her straight in the eye and say, 'Mam, get your son tested as soon as possible, he just bit me and I'm... I'm FUCKING HIV POSITIVE.

And now there is silence. Not a peep in the entire store. The brat knows he jut fucked up big time because his mom isn't defending his ass. She just stares at me wide eyed. I walk away from them, buy my shit from the wide eyed cashier, all the while blood is dripping from my calf, making a nice little trail on the floor. And, just s we leave, we start to hear the mother sobbing. Sobbing like the cunt she is.

I have never felt any more satisfaction than the moment I heard that sob.