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Assassination - Blog Posts
Ronald Reagan’s assassination attempt but it has king of the hill music over it
Lmao rip bozo
some of my favs
The Assassination of MLK!
NO. 1
Martin Luther King. Jr, the famous civil rights leader, and the clergyman was assassinated at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee on April 4, 1968; he was rushed to St. Joseph’s Hospital where he ‘’died’’. James Earl Ray, a fugitive who had escaped Missouri State Penitentiary was arrested in London at Heathrow Airport, extradited back to the United States, and charged with the crime, where he pleaded guilty on March 10, 1969, and sentenced to 99 years in Tennessee State Penitentiary. He made several attempts to withdraw his guilty plea and be tried by a jury but was unsuccessful. He died in prison in 1998.
The King family do not believe he was murdered at the hands of this common criminal, but that the F.B.I and C.I.A had their hands involved, especially the head of the F.B.I, director J. Edgar Hoover, the Mafia, and Memphis police, as alleged by Lloyd Jowers, the owner of Jim Grill, a restaurant near the Lorraine Motel where the civil rights leader was shot. They believed that Ray was a scapegoat. In 1999, the family filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Jowers for $10 million. During closing arguments, their attorney asked the jury to award damages of $100, to make the point that ‘it was not about the money.’ During the trial, both sides presented evidence alleging a government conspiracy. The government agencies accused could not defend themselves or respond because they were not named as defendants.
Based on the evidence, the jury concluded Jowers and others were ‘’part of a conspiracy to kill King’’ and awarded the family of $100. The allegations and the findings of the Memphis jury were later rejected by the U.S Department of Justice in 2000 due to lack of evidence. ‘’The brutal death of the civil rights leader elicited a political reaction manifest in social disturbances across the nation. Numerous riots and lesser civil disturbances occurred as a direct aftermath of the killing. Several explanations for the disturbances appear obvious. The best--known civil rights leader in the nation had been murdered. For many, King had become a symbol of progressive change in policies concerning race relations and poverty. The killing also occurred within the context of increased interracial tension. More widespread rioting, looting, and burning--although less personal violence--took place in the prior summer than at any other time since the Civil War. Finally, diverse modes of political participation among African-Americans had emerged on a fairly massive scale. [I] argue that the assassination was a stimulus that led individuals to an emotional disengagement from the realm of political behavior. What I term political disengagement occurs when normally positive and latent diffuse sentiments toward the political system and its elements become negative.’’
I hate to say it: Maybe if Luigi carried food instead of monopoly money he wouldn't have needed to go to a restaurant.
Comment your lead actor picks for The Adjustor movie!
Luigi is not a terrorist: The CEO PERSONALLY wronged him. This is a classic case of fuck around find out.
If someone I never met shoves me at a bar and we get into a bar fight, they can't turn around and claim some other motive but the shoving. Luigi was put through physical pain by this CEO and this is what you get as a result.
Just a reminder that the United Healthcare stock didn't crash and therefore the CEO's large paycheck was feudalistic theft.
The Adjuster x reader smut shall be studied by future generations alongside the original ballads of Robin Hood.
He had the hood, now only if there was a conveniently placed hay bale for him to jump into from one of the buildings. Then law enforcement would have simply forgotten about him.
Now this is a instance of non toxic masculinity: A CEO assassin that gets caught because he couldn't resist hitting on a woman.
It's OK CEOs, just imagine him without the hood.
I bet a consequence of this shooting will be employers taking their employees guns when they work. What are the odds that Republicans show any sort of backlash to this?
54.5% of Tumblr was WRONG!
Place your bets folks:
Could you imagine if the assassin gets a jury acquittal and just shows up to the Joe Rogan podcast and there's debate about banning his accounts from social media and he gets in a Twitter feud with Elon Musk. That's the wild timeline I want to live in.
Place your bets folks:
The bullet that hit Trump was POISONED and the only thing that saved him with his healthcare under UnitedHealthcare and now the same assassins that came after Trump are coming after them!
Someone make this a conspiracy theory.
Remembering: Abraham Lincoln was an American politician and lawyer who served as the 16th President of the United States from March 1861 until his assassination on this day in April 1865. Assassinated: April 15, 1865, Petersen House, Washington, D.C. Party: National Union Party #AbrahamLincoln #assassination #abelincoln #POTUS16 #HonestAbe Some call him a hero and some call him killer... #USA #Presidents (at Petersen House)
Mission 100
A/N This is something random that I wrote. It has nothing to do with any fandom or anything but I would like to know your thoughts on it. Its also like 1.4k words long which is a lot for me. its pretty average for most people tho I'm just lazy
THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR.
Summary NONE- read the warnings though
DO NOT REPOST ONTO ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.
Warnings Violence, Mild gore, it's about an assassin (need I say more?), angst, thriller kinda
The sky outside is torn apart by the jagged spears of thunder from the storm. The woman is anxiously awaiting a call. A call that determines her future actions. Her glossy, red nails tap on the table, keeping time with each passing second.
She’s a tall, slender woman (around 5”11) with a pale complexion and eyes like that of a feral cat- dangerous and unnerving. Her cheeks are a pale pink colour which matches her lips. She is dressed in a black suit with a black shirt that has the top button undone. On her feet are a pair of glossy black stilettos.
She is starting to get impatient.
The woman walks towards the adjacent room and the dusty floorboards creak with each step. The rain is beating against the thin, single-glazed windows which groan with the force of the winds, a sign the storm is getting worse.
She pushes the door open to reveal a man tied to a chair with nylon rope. The rope is tied around his chest and feet, attaching them to the chair. His hands are zip-tied together and a cloth has been tied around his head to act as a gag.
The man looks around 50 and his eyes are wide in fear. However, this fear is one he is familiar with.
The woman walks over to the table situated behind the door. She grabs a switchblade and holds it up. The man begins to frantically writhe about, he would scream but he knows it’s futile. Being in a house in such a secluded area makes situations like these worse for the victim but more fun for the captor.
The woman swiftly approaches the man. He lets out a whimper as she holds the blade to his neck.
“All you had to do was agree. You had to sign on the dotted line and this wouldn’t have happened,” she whispered.
She presses the blade into his neck, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make the man turn pale in fear of what she’ll do next.
“Now the boss has got me doing this. Again. And for what, all because you want to keep this old house,” she sneers.
The woman is about to continue speaking when she is interrupted by the telephone ringing. She slowly pulls away as a smirk makes its way onto her face. She puts the switchknife back onto the table.
“I’ll be back,” she tells the man before exiting the room.
She walks back into the other room and looks at the rotary phone screaming for her to answer it. She approaches the phone and picks up the handset.
“Hello,” the woman says to the person on the other end of the line.
The woman pauses for a few seconds before replying.
“I’ll make sure I do that boss.”
She puts the phone back on the switch hook.
The woman saunters back into the room where the man is supposed to be only to see he has escaped. She hears thudding on the stairs and grabs her swtichknife off the table before going to look for the man.
She trudges down the stairs in search of her prey. She goes into every room she comes across and checks each one thoroughly. Just as she is about to give up, she hears a familiar jingle of keys and runs towards the front door.
“So you thought you would escape me, you should know by now. I will always find you,” she sneers at the man.
“This isn’t you, you know it,” he tells her with pleading eyes.
“You don’t get to tell me who I am or how I act,” her voice trembles at the last word.
She pulls a gun out from the holster strapped to the back of her trousers and makes sure it’s loaded and the safety is off. She holds the gun up with a trembling hand. Tears start to gather in her waterline.
The man turns and tries to unlock the door. His attempt to free himself is ended when a gunshot is heard. This is followed by a thud and a cry of pain from the man.
The woman begins to sob as she steps over the man as she finishes unlocking the door and steps outside. The rain soaks through her clothes in a matter of seconds and her hair is sticking to her forehead.
She walks through the overgrown garden to a wooden bench almost engulfed by nature. She sits down and looks forward blankly.
That’s when it happens. She can see it. Happiness.
It was cold outside but the blankets wrapped around her kept her warm. She heard footsteps before her father walked into the room and picked her up. The girl giggled as he spun around with her in his arms.
He kissed her on the forehead and walked into the living room where the fireplace had been lit. He sat the girl on his lap and they sat there in silence, soaking up the heat…
The woman comes back to her senses when she hears groaning coming from the house. She practically jumps off the bench and grabs her gun.
She crouches behind a nearby bush and slowly makes her way towards the noise. It’s the man dragging himself out of the house. She huffs in annoyance and stands up.
She approaches the man with an emotionless face and picks him up by the collar of his shirt. He is drenched from the rain and he’s losing blood fast.
The woman drags him inside and closes the door, which she props him up against. She crouches down to his level.
“You could’ve made it out of this alive if you had just played dead for a few more minutes,” she whispered.
“You could have let me make it out alive.”
“And risk being skinned alive. I don’t think so,” she has an unidentifiable look on her face now.
She looks remorseful but merciless at the same time. Two emotions which usually represent two different sides of a story but not this time.
The woman grabs the man by the collar of his shirt again and begins to drag him into a bedroom.
Once they get there she only just manages to get him onto the bed.
“You don’t have long left, I hit the artery in your left leg,” she tells the man, checking her gun.
She looks up, confused he didn’t answer. Her eyes full are of sorrow but her body language shows her violent nature.
“What do you expect me to say?”
“Something!”
“You don’t have to do this,” he tells her.
“Don’t you understand? I have no choice. You’re my mission,” she doesn’t shout this time, she puts her gun on the bed and looks down at the floor.
“Then complete your mission, my love,” he whispers to her.
In a matter of seconds, the woman picks up her gun and shoots the man in the head. The gun falls out of her hand as she observes the crime scene she has created. Then, the guilt starts to set in.
The thunder outside roars and the lightning lights up the sky like fireworks.
The woman walks over to the man's corpse and grasps the knife in her pocket. She pulls it out and neatly carves ‘mission 100 complete’ into the man’s arm.
She grabs some blankets off a nearby chair and tucks the man in. She picks up her knife and gun before exiting the room.
The woman walks upstairs and back into the room with the phone inside. She calls the person from earlier, her boss. After a few seconds, he picks up.
“Mission 100 is complete sir,” she informs him.
“I congratulate you, your debt is paid and you are free,” her boss declares.
She puts the handpiece back on the switch hook. Once again, her face is emotionless but her trembling hands and unsteady steps convey her true emotions of shock, relief and regret.
She slowly makes her way back down the stairs for the last time. She goes back into the room where her latest and last mission lies, motionless and pale.
She almost hopes he is still alive. As she enters the room she feels tears start to gather in her waterline again.
The woman approaches the man for the last time. She sits on the bed next to him and smooths her hand over the blankets that once belonged to her. She leans over to the man and plants a kiss on his forehead.
“I’m so sorry father,” she whispers before sobs overtake her body.
She lays down and curls up next to the man.
Her repayment has cost her everything, her life, her happiness, her spark.
Finally, she is free and she has no debts.
She has no family.
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