
non-binary plural system.
35, queer, autistic, therian.
writer of fictions. from the internet. variety of interests. knows everyone. icon by @candiedreptile.
posts signed in some fashion until we get to select from a pool of icons like the livejournal days.
So you're standing next to the south fork of Beargrass Creek, which runs all around Louisville. I'm sitting in what would be called Eleven Jones Cave, if anyone remembered it was here, which nobody does.
Okay ... I'm gonna go off-script for Question Three. Why is it called Eleven Jones Cave?
I'll answer that, but before I do, there's something we need to do.
Here. Come over here.
.
.
Here?
Closer, closer. Just for a second. Get in the shot.
Here?
That'll work.
Hello, whoever you are. I'm Eddie, and
What was your name?
Tim.
And this is Tim. And you, the reader, are reading this on uh,
What's that site with the name that sounds like ESPN? Sports site.
ESP, uh
ESPNation? SP Nation?
ESB Nation. And you've been reading in on our little conversation here. It's in somewhat poor taste to address you directly, but some things are more important than the fourth wall. One of those things is your personal safety and well-being.
We're about to talk about Eleven Jones Cave. This is a cave I live in, but I can only do that because I am unkillable. If you're reading this prior to the year 2026, you are extraordinarily killable.
Do not attempt to enter this cave. I say this for two reasons, the first of which is that there is a very real risk of you getting stuck in it. The second, and more important, reason is that this cave harbors extraordinarily high levels of carbon dioxide.

I know how people are. Maybe you're telling yourself, "well, I'm special, I won't let myself get poisoned by carbon dioxide." You will, and you'll be remembered as the person who died in some crappy cave because you read it in a story you read online about sentient 178th-century space probes who watch football all day, even though the most handsome character in the story completely interrupted everything to explicitly tell you not to.
Who are you talking to?
Don't worry about it.
What’d he say?
He uh, he said he was going to put me on hold.
Again?
Well he said his name was Tanner, and I told him that that was funny because Tanner’s my name too, and then he said I was boring so he put me on hold some more.
Gimme the fuckin’ phone. Gimme the phone.
I need a representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative! Representative!
I don’t think that
Representative!
works with a recorded message. It’s only the automated
Representative!
robot computer thing it works with.