TDM #10

[apocalypsehowmods]

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➥ Arrival

(cw: potential for severe disorientation/vertigo, claustrophobia, arachnophobia, body horror)

It happens in the blink of an eye. You may have been asleep. You may not have. You may have stepped through a door or turned a corner. You may have seen a flicker of something at the corner of your vision and turned to look. Or maybe you didn't.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that you find yourself somewhere entirely new and entirely unfamiliar. The arrival point is not always the same. (If you're lucky, it might be a canteen or an open office. If you're not, well... you aren't claustrophobic, are you? Or arachnophobic. These ducts do seem to be a bit cobwebby.) There is no one waiting for you but you don’t seem to be alone, either. Even in a janitor’s closet or the bathroom, you’ll find at least one person who seems to be just as out of place as you are.

If characters have arrived in a location devoid of NPCs, they may want to work together to figure out what is going on... or to avoid their 'kidnappers.' If you’ve arrived in the middle of the entry foyer or the gym, there may well be a few people who startle a bit at your arrival and try to approach (or discreetly leave the room... where are they going?). Will you cooperate or fight? Do you even understand what they're saying? You might need to find a translator, if you’re not immediately willing to follow a stranger.

After characters follow their new hosts (or are forcibly taken in) there will be a limited tour and the chance to settle in at the ADI-provided housing. (Do you enjoy living with strangers? Well. It's a new situation to navigate, anyway.)

➥ The Flowers Came Early

(cw: existential dread, altered perceptions, apocalypse, tsunamis, wildfires, meteor strikes, potential for botulism/food-based illnesses)

Weird things happen in Dogtown, everyone knows it. And the weird things have been getting worse. The Apocalypse Disruption Initiative (ADI) is not above taking advantage of that to test out the waters for its newest arrivals, but they're far more conscientious about it than early days. They're not looking to send anyone to their death, especially not with recent events that have transpired surrounding Dogtown and in Gloucester proper. An employee gives you a GPS device where you need only press a button to alert ADI there is severe danger and someone needs to come help you right away, and you've been left with another person at the trailhead. Maybe they're a new arrival, as well, or a more seasoned 'veteran.' Either way, you're together for the next while and you've been asked to find and record any paranormal activity in the park. You have your phones and any other equipment you might have brought with you. Those who succeed in documenting anything peculiar will receive a $100 reward to be used as they see fit.

This month, flowers are finally starting to bloom throughout the city and into the park. Bright blues, purples, pinks, and deep crimson. There's one set of flowers that seem to have formed suspiciously consistent patterns, though. The golden daffodils only seem to be growing in select spots. They're not quite in rings. More… rectangular? Something like that. In any case, those who observe the daffodils may note they're exceptionally fragrant, the sort of thing to draw one in…

Stepping foot into the middle of the daffodils causes a sudden, but brief, plunge. Congratulations, you've found a cellar, one of the old ones left behind and covered over by time and nature. Investigations will lead to mostly-collapsed root cellars, the sort of thing someone interested in local history might be fascinated by. The occasional tin or jar can be found, as well, which might net a healthy sum for collectors of Colonial Era foodstuffs. Those foolish enough to try to eat what's inside will likely find themselves exceptionally sick. Please Do Not.

Whatever adventures characters get up to in the cellars, there doesn't appear to be anything actively dangerous down there beyond the place collapsing and self-inflicted botulism. Stepping back out, though? There is nothing. Dogtown is a barren wasteland, and in the distance, in the direction of Gloucester, there are only the ruined remains of a city long-since lost, itself, to some horrible catastrophe. Different pairs might see different kinds of catastrophes. Perhaps it looks like an enormous tsunami swept through, pushing the town out before dragging pieces of it back into the sea. Perhaps it looks like there was some sort of wildfire with only the burned out husks of buildings left. Perhaps there are no signs, at all, just a crater where the town used to be, wiped out by something that fell from space. Whatever might be their worst visions of a decaying future, empty of life, this is it. They've emerged and-

And it's normal again. Just Dogtown, just Gloucester. Characters who fell prey to the daffodils will find that any time they get a whiff of the flowers in Dogtown or elsewhere, they will have brief, recurring visions of being in that desolate landscape, of the horrors that await in some future they haven't reached, yet.

➥ Ctrl + Alt + Delete

(cw: potential for mild public humiliation, paranoia, altered perceptions, insects, claustrophobia/choking/suffocating, body horror/tooth horror)

After a certain AI's foray into the world of stealing account passwords, on top of other instances of cyber security lapses by new arrivals, ADI has decided to implement mandatory cyber security classes. It's not enough to prove you can use a modern phone and computer, everyone who arrives will be asked to attend at least one course put on by the Staff Development and Information Technology departments. Or perhaps you've proved your mettle already and are one of the ones actually teaching these courses. The topics covered are wide ranging, but some seminar highlights for this month include:

Cyber Security Awareness - What makes a good password? Why do we have those? What even is two-factor authentication. This course is your basic introduction to cyber security and teaches things like don't give everyone your password on the public network. Don't download anything that hasn't been pre-approved by IT - devices are locked to prevent this, but don't get wily. And if you see something, say something in terms of any oddities in your devices. IT would rather tell you there's nothing wrong than deal with something worse getting through.

Brute Forcing It - An interactive class where participants will create passwords and have a paired participant attempt to brute force hack it. Pairs are allowed to ask each other questions, but nothing will be compelling honesty. Better get sly if you want to hack your compatriot's login. If you manage it, you'll receive a congratulations and gift card to a local coffee shop. If you're the one whose password was successfully hacked… you get nothing apart from a stern lecture about picking a better password. Get to know your fellows and see if you can rise above them on the field of cyber battle.

Spooky Threats - A rundown of potential supernatural threats that have entered into this digital age. Worried someone is spying on you through a camera lens, even when your device is off? It's very possible. There are some Eye-based avatars with that sort of technopathy available to them. Worried you might have a bug in the machine? Have you considered that this is literally the case? The Corruption has a strong foothold, particularly in the social media space. Digital tech also tends to interact in strange ways with the supernatural. Participants will be able to take photos with their phones of a few different artifacts brought up from the lower levels and kept in a display case. They'll be able to see the strange warping and static effects associated with the photos as a first step to identifying supernatural phenomenon.

The artifacts brought up aren't the most dangerous in ADI's catalog, thankfully, but there will be reprimands and getting kicked out of the class for those who can't keep their hands to themselves. The objects include:

• A flute that induces severe migraines and temporary synesthesia when touched;
• A doodlebug pen that makes it feel like there's something crawling up your back for several minutes after touching it;
• A ticket stub for a car parking lot that looks perpetually damp. There is the scent of gasoline and a tightening in your throat the longer it's held;
• A wax apple that makes you want to bite into it, to consume it, to smile as your teeth turn to wax.

➥ Dawning Realizations

(cw: references to violence and death; scopophilia)

April's dawn has come to the seemingly endless nights of March as nightmares fade and the monster howling at the door goes silent. The days are growing longer, but they feel longer still than they are when the night no longer holds so many dangers.

The peace feels uncertain at first, but as the days and nights go on the shadow woman does not make her reappearance. A few at ADI voice the hope that she might actually be dead following the destruction of multiple shades. Others are more doubtful, claiming that they saw her as recently as the night of April 1st and that not all of the shades were caught and killed. The official word from the top is that she's all too likely to still be alive and field agents are on the watch for her to re-emerge in Gloucester or some other, easier target. Investigations around town in search of bolt holes and places she'd been spotted turn up nothing but the occasional drift of black sand…and, in a few too many places to be easily dismissed as coincidence, wax dripped on the ground or intermingled with the sand. Some characters may have suspicions about what this is, others may simply have questions.

Whatever ADI's lingering misgivings, the city of Gloucester is grateful for the reprieve, and more openly grateful for the help of ADI than ever before. Officially, the spring festival thrown in a city park near ADI headquarters is a show of gratitude for ADI's assistance during the blackouts that recently plagued the city and inspired an unprecedented crime wave. Unofficially, ADI quite suddenly has the city council's logistical support as well as its ear, and the festival is a thank you for quite a bit more than providing a few backup generators to local businesses.

Eat! Drink! Celebrate! There's live music as well as jugglers, stage magicians, and basically any entertainers that could be brought in on short notice on the promise of tips–that is to say, an effort was made but this is not exactly Las Vegas. There are homemade carnival games that have clearly made the rounds of a few community festivals and elementary school carnivals: bean bag toss, plinko, mini golf, and more. Try your skill at musical chairs or run an egg relay race with your friends. Get your face painted, jump in the bouncy castle, or volunteer for the dunk tank–no one will judge you (probably).

On the more sedate side of things, there are local crafters selling their wares. There's also food and beer from local businesses, with ADI staff receiving a generous handful of tokens to exchange for each. Or you might just want to take a stroll among the spring flowers further from the hubbub of the festival proper; they're coming in nicely now (including the daffodils). And if the spots on that one flower looked like eyes for a moment, or if you feel like you're being watched in the gardens–that's just nonsense. It's a beautiful sunny day, and you deserve to relax and enjoy yourself.

➥ Mod Notes

• ARRIVAL (Apr 1 - 31): Two people will always arrive in the same general location together. Arrivals occur throughout the early month, not all on the same day or in the same place. Arrivals are not naturally fluent in English/other languages immediately upon arrival. Characters may attempt to evade capture, but they will eventually be snagged before they can leave the building. PC's already in-game are more than welcome to interact with and try to guide new PC's to get them oriented. Please refer to the Arrival page for details regarding the arrival and onboarding process.
  
  
• THE FLOWERS CAME EARLY (Apr 1 - 31): Characters are welcome to find the odd relic from the 1800s tucked away in the cellar. ADI's IT department will be happy to help with listing it on places like eBay or Facebook Marketplace to sell to potential collectors. They'll also offer to just buy it for a few hundred dollars to avoid the hassle and then gift it to a relevant museum for the tax write-off. Players can come up with any catastrophic scenario they would like for this prompt. We would just ask that you pay particular mind to listing content warnings as they arise. Pressing the GPS Device's button while in the 'other' place will result in the device making a crackling error sound. It will work as soon as the vision stops. The recurring visions will last anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes and will be all-encompassing. Whatever the character is doing, wherever they are, they will feel like they're in this destroyed world. These recurring visions can carry past the April timeframe, should players want that.
  
  
• CTRL + ALT + DELETE (Apr 1 - 31): All characters will be asked to attend at least one cyber security lesson, whether they're a new arrival or someone old hat. If your character has the skills to actually teach these classes, you may handwave that they are an instructor, rather than a participant. For the Spooky Threats option, anyone who touches the artifacts (and is caught by the instructor) will be verbally rebuked in front of the entire class before being sent out. Characters will receive explicit instructions not to touch the artifacts when they're first brought in, and will be informed they're things that ADI is still trying to figure out how to destroy as they're surprisingly resilient to the usual flamethrower/incineration method.
  
  
• DAWNING REALIZATIONS (Apr 8 - 11): As far as anyone can tell, Katie Dunn is no longer in Gloucester and no immediate threat has arrived to replace her. Characters who killed or injured one or more of her shades have been commended with an internal announcement, a bonus to their pay, and a gift card for frozen yogurt. And yes, the flowers do occasionally have eyes, but it's probably fine. If examined in detail, the wax is high-quality and scented to smell just a little bit like a campfire.
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Lt. Columbo | Columbo

[morethings]

i. arrival

The door to his old Peugeot opens the same way it always did; sticking and sagging against the rusted hinges that struggled to bear its weight. The noise barely registers for the lieutenant, going so far as to lean on the door as he takes one last look at the house behind him. It was a grand old place, full of history. The (late) Mrs. Danvers had lived there all her life -- that's what her son-in-law said, anyway.

He'd had a lot to say, hadn't he?

With that final thought lingering, Lt. Columbo swings into the drivers seat and--

He blinks. Gone was the grungy windshield and LA sun that stubbornly shined through it. Shining marble tile, walls with the tastefully uninspired mark of corporate office space -- it was a waiting room. The lieutenant had been in plenty of them. Just, well, usually he remembered walking in.

A receptionist seated in front of some sort of terminal catches his eye first. She was on the younger side, business-like, confirming an appointment over the phone. Columbo stands, surprised by a vague sense of dizziness as he shuffles his way to the counter.

The maid at the Danvers place had given him tea, was that what this was? Something in it? She and the son-in-law, could they be working together--

He shakes off the mental tangent physically, fingers dancing restlessly over the worn hem of his raincoat. Baby steps, mac. Find out where ya are first.

"Ah--excuse me, Miss." He approaches the receptionist desk, hand raised in silent question. She fixes him with an immediate glare, nodding towards the phone against her ear. Lt. Columbo returns it with a bashful smile, shoulders hunching apologetically. "I can see you're very busy and I hate to bother ya, but I was hoping you could--"

Another glare, this time accompanied by a finger pointing accusingly from the cloud of smoke belching from his cigar towards a small no smoking plaque on her desk. After a few hasty sorry, excuse me's and an even hastier search for an ashtray, Columbo stubs the cigar against the wrinkled lining of his raincoat. It's seen worse.

"Gee, I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't see the sign. Y'see, I'm a bit scrambled at the moment and I was hoping--"

There goes the finger again, this time shoved into her unoccupied ear. To the gal's credit, she doesn't lose concentration on the call for even a second. People that good at admin work were usually pretty fastidious as a rule. In the lieutenant's experience, him and fastidious didn't get along great.

He scans the room again, hoping for a face he'd have a better shot with. Most of them looked as busy as the receptionist, determinedly walking from point A to point B with all the mundane efficiency of your basic office. All save one person.

Be it their appearance, expression, agitation, or apparent lack of anywhere to go... One person doesn't fit into the surroundings at all. Lieutenant Columbo makes a b-line for the oddball, head ducked graciously in pre-apology.

"Excuse me, [insert sir/ma'am here*]..." He extends a hand towards the stranger, head canted at slight angle. "This might sound a little funny, but I was just wonderin'..."

A wide grin spreads across the lieutenant's face, a practiced embarrassment shining through as he finally asks the question he's been dying to ask since he got here.

"You wouldn't happen to know where we are, wouldja?"

( *the gender binary ain't real, but this fact was not widely known in the time period Columbo's from. if your character flouts 1970s gender norms, please feel COMPLETELY free to have him get it wrong. )

ii. dawning realizations

Who didn't love a carnival? Sure, you'd never mistake it for anything other than a government effort, but he couldn't remember the last time the LAPD shelled out for more than a few paper hats and some sheet cake from Vickman's.

But there were more important things on his mind than civil expenditure. When he first showed up in that waiting room, he'd had four cigars stuffed in the various pockets of his raincoat. Four and a half if you counted the half smoked one he arrived with. Now, he could stretch four (and a half cigars) around six hours. Maybe eight, on a particularly relaxing day.

But hour eight was long gone. He was on day eight. That was 192 hours. A life can seem awfully long when measured in cigars. Longer when the place you've been unceremoniously recruited to doesn't even have a damn cigarette machine in the lobby.

Satisfying his oral fixation with a hot dog, Lt. Columbo stalks the corridors of the open air market in shambling pursuit of his goal. So single-minded is he that he doesn't seem to notice his surroundings, or anyone who could be standing in his path. This becomes distinctly apparent when all five-feet-six-inches of him barrels into an idle browser in front of one of the shops.

Knocked temporarily off balance, a taut thread in the lieutenant snaps like an old piano wire. Oh yeah, this felt like a milestone. The raspy frustration in his voice was definitely the sound of a man craving a cigar for the hundredth time that week.

"Cripes, wouldja watch yourself? You think this is some kinda museum, people are tryin' to get somewhere!"

iii. wildcard (aka one more thing...)

[ You got ideas for interacting with this scruffy weirdo of yesteryear, then hit me up I want 'em all! ]

ii - dawning realizations

[halfdecay]

A part of Owen wanted to oversleep this morning. There isn’t anything terribly exciting about carnivals when you’re farting about by yourself. This is about as clear as an illustration to show how Owen is walking in completely unfamiliar territory without the sight of any familiar faces. Any minute he expects Jack to pluck out from the corner and shoot him that toothy American grin of his.

Apparently, that isn’t the case. Just Owen standing in one spot within the market, feasting on a small paper tray of chips smothered in cheese. By the time he stabs the plastic fork into the piping hot potatoes, he is suddenly being shoved by some muppet smelling of cigars.

Now wearing a good helping of cheese sauce on his shirt and this twat dares to yell at him?

Fuck off with all that.

“Oi! Piss off! I’m not the one fumbling around like some blundering codger.”

[morethings]

Columbo squares up his shoulders at the returned shout, fist clenched tight at his side. Some instinctual response baked into him back when he was a scrawny kid with a big mouth, brought out by the unpleasant cocktail of withdrawal and missing his wife.

But the impulse quiets as quick as it comes. The lieutenant can't summon any sustained ill-feeling toward the guy. After all, it wasn't him he wanted to take a swing at.

"... Listen, I'm sorry. You caught me on a bad day." His words are genuine, if a little obligatory. With a hand caught at his chin, he gives the stranger a quick once over. "Didn't hurt ya, did I?"

i

[failedpromise]

Appearance, in this case, would probably be the thing to tip him off, given that the woman he'd approached was very clearly and obviously not at all Human.

Not particularly clothed either, wearing only an oversized sweater.

Still, after a moment of startled blinking, Cortana smiles and shakes Columbo's hand. Despite appearing to be composed of nothing but shimmering blue light, she's solid, if a little cool to the touch.

"Let me guess: just arrived? Welcome to the Apocalypse Disruption Initiative."

[morethings]

It was one of the most peculiar sights he'd ever seen. A woman, shimmering like smoke caught through the glow of a film projector. He looked down at her feet, then back up to the solid hand as it grasped his own. No shadow. No bounce. Couldn't be a projection. Projections couldn't shake hands.

Definitely had to be something in that tea...

"Ah, pardon me, ma'am?" His smile quirked a little tighter, certain it had to be his mind under the influence. Playing tricks. "I don't think I quite heard you right, sounded like you said 'apocalypse'."

[failedpromise]

The sweater, at least, is clearly ordinary matter. And her laugh sounds very real and very human.

"You heard correctly, actually. Though most people know it by it's other name of Apex Detective, Inc." She let go of his hand and took a moment to examine him. Judging by the outfit, he was from even further in the past compared to her than the average worker at this place. "And just in case: your eyes aren't fooling you either. I really am a hologram." Might as well get that out of the way.

[morethings]

"A hologram." Columbo repeats it, voice filled with a carefully calibrated mix of awe and surprise. He takes a step back as if trying to get a better view, hand dragging across his cheek. "Ain't that something."

His wife had taken him to an art show once, couple years back. The artist -- no, holographer, he remembered now -- he was a funny little guy. Obsessed with circles. They were pretty neat, he had to admit. None of them talked, though.

Likelihood that he was tripping on spiked tea was still holding strong at 95% in the lieutenant's mind, but hey! No harm in exploring this delusion to the fullest as long as he's here.

"Boy, I wish my wife was here to see this. She loves this kinda thing." He says, genuinely, as he steps back closer. Maybe a little too close, curiosity forcing him to forget personal space (as it so often did). "So this is a detective agency, and you're... some kinda information desk, maybe?"

Arrival

[locumstudentesquire]

Appearance, expression, agitation, apparent lack of anywhere to go: Ryunosuke is four for four. One-hundred percent, undeniably, this man is absolutely out of his depth, toe to tip, from his bug eyed expression to his crisp black gakuran.

He had been heading downstairs just before this, keen on having a spot of tea; he always eagerly anticipated getting to try the different delicious custom blends Iris brewed up each morning. But when he'd turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, instead of the familiar parlor with its cozy fireplace and mantle eclectically decorated with Mr. Sholmes' various case related brick-a-brac...

...What is this room? What is this decor? Are those lights all electric?! It's hard to overstate how stunned and confused he is, going from Victorian era grandiosity to a modern day minimalist hellscape.

He has just been standing there, dumbfounded and unable to budge an inch, until the Lieutenant's approach snaps him out of his stupor. He still looks a little bit stunned even as he accepts the handshake, until that question has his brow furrowing into something almost approaching anger.

"Th-that's what I would like to know!" he says much too loudly in a crisp British accent. His excessive volume earns them both another angry glare from the receptionist, which causes Ryunosuke to wince apologetically.

[morethings]

The force of the stranger's voice seems to physically stall the detective out entirely, mind and expression both going blank for the few moments it took to take the man in.

Panicky, odd clothes, same height as him, and if Columbo was forced to guess what kinda accent this guy would have... well, high-class British wouldn't have been the lieutenant's tenth guess.

He pumps the guys hand a little too long as his thoughts spin together into words, canting his head to the side when they finally take shape: "My name's Lieutenant Columbo, sir, it's nice to meetcha. Could you tell me-- what were you doing before arriving here? No detail too small, sir."

[locumstudentesquire]

Boggling, Ryunosuke just allows Columbo to keep shaking his hand for as long as he will, because he's far too overwhelmed and far too over-polite to be the first one to pull back here. Even if he does find it a bit excessive.

"Wh-what was I doing?" He stammers. "Well I-- I'd just started my day, and I was heading downstairs for some tea... Nothing at the time seemed particularly amiss at all, until I turned the corner and found myself here instead of in Mr. Sholmes' suite!"

[morethings]

Columbo finally lets the guy go, discretely wiping his hand against his trouser leg. Whether that was his sweat or the other man's was anyone's guess, both of them certainly had enough reason to be stressed.

Though to say the young man was simply stressed was an understatement.

Mr. Sholmes? Sounded like the guy was slurring his words a little. Could he have had his tea spiked too...? "That tea you mentioned, did you get a chance to drink any of it before showing up here?"

[locumstudentesquire]

Ryunosuke does the same, trying to keep the 'eewww' he's feeling over this inside his own head and off of his face. Let's be real anyway: They are probably both sweating.

"I never even made it to the kitchen to get the tea, much less drink any," he groans miserably. He's really only just now taking a proper look at Columbo; this man has an extremely odd air about him? And that accent... He's obviously speaking English, but it's not with any sort of British accent Ryunosuke has heard before...

ii

[circumsutus]

[Stein (all six-foot-eight-inches of him) isn't exactly used to being slammed into. People usually have more sense than that, between his height and his patchwork sense of fashion (and the metal bolt through his head, but right now the illusion's hiding that).

He looks down at the stranger and shrugs.]

I don't think anyone else minds people looking at the shops.

christ that height difference

[morethings]

[ At chest height, Columbo isn't immediately sure what kind of man he just lost his temper at. Could've been two guys on top of each other, based on how the stranger towered over him.

He steps back a bit, squinting up at the tall figure with mounting confusion. Was that-- ]

I, uh... [ A blink, eyes widening a little bit. ] Uh, pal? You...

[ He taps his temple a few times, confused and maybe a little concerned. Didn't this guy realize he was in the middle of a bonafide medical emergency? ]

[circumsutus]

[Stein reaches up, his hand settling on the head of the bolt and he


twists it.

There's a series of ratcheting clicks before he stops.]

This? It helps me think.

[morethings]

[ Columbo didn't have a particularly elastic face. It defaulted to a perplexed squint most of the time, while the lieutenant made up the difference with an expressive stock of gestures. That's how you spot an Italian, his Pops used to say, watch the hands.

Head canted hard to the side, eyes uncharacteristically wide, and hands tucked tight under his arms... he probably didn't look very Italian at all just now, at least not according to his father. ]

What on earth...

[ The shock finally breaks, a blindingly bright smile spreading across Columbo's face. ]

Oh now wait a minute, I've seen one a these before. My brother-in-law George, he scared the pants off my kid once with a knife through the head trick. Got it at a joke shop, whole thing was on a... a whaddya call it... [ He ran his hand back and forth across his head in some sorta frenetic pantomime. ] --A headband!

[circumsutus]

[Stein can see the proverbial gears turning in the man's head, waits to see what he'll come up with to explain away the reality of the situation.

The answer gets a laugh out of him, and he shakes his head.]

That's a new one! People usually just think they're hallucinating! [If they comment on it at all. Really, the bolt through Stein's head isn't the weirdest thing out there.]

ii

[dunshire]

Ben is in over his head with everything going on here. He's totally out of his element, and is admittedly going through a rough patch because of it. He isn't really sure the last time he ate, or why he's even standing around staring at shops like he has the intention of buying something. But being out and about feels better than feeling sorry for himself. So here he is, idly holding onto a hot dog in one hand and a drink in the other.

Both crash down to the ground when he's bumped into. Used to being blamed for things that aren't really his fault, Ben glances down at his ruined lunch and shrugs. This is fine. He's avoiding conflict, and hopefully an awkward conversation.

"Yeah, I can see how my being stationary -"

Ben pauses, nose wrinkling up as the wind blows and the scent of cigar overwhelms him.

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but you smell like my grandfather. Back in 1975. After he came over for a visit on his way home from the gentleman's club." And this guy kinda talks to him the way his grandfather used to back in 1975. Weird. Talk about triggering a core memory.