ok but, this isnt a mermaid kinda deal, where you can just flip two bits and be done with it. a manticore has PARTS
theres a lot of other interpretations of em out there, but for simplicity lets say theres four defining Big Features to work with that i can swap around
first up, the back bit (scorpion tail) and front bit (human face) are switched, giving us a scorpion face. if we were being really accurate the scorpions entire head actually consists of a lot more legs, but were not, so it doesnt
then instead of a lion body, its a bat body, swapping with the wings and giving us, incredibly, another fucking pair of bat wings
this would be the bit where the human tail goes in but guess what
and then I GUESS instead of bat wings, the reverse scorpion would have LION WINGS !! but theres no such thing so we gotta go with the closest equivalent, which is just a big ol goddamn pair of lion arms
“when connie is president what will that make me? first boy?”
honestly I think that might be my favorite (non-singing) line in all of steven universe because it makes my imagine the craziest/best presidential term in U.S. history.
“Mr. Universe, many republicans are claiming that your birth certificate was faked and that you are an illegal alien. What would you say to these allegations?”
“Well definitely not illegal, but I am an alien.”
“you were born outside of the country?”
“no, I was born here”
“then how are you an alien?”
“I mean a literal alien, from outer space. My mother and guardians are all aliens.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Well I’m half alien anyway. I thought we made that clear from early on in the campaign?”
(conspiracy theorists have a field day)
“Madam President, why is your husband carrying a huge crystal disc out onto the white house lawn?”
“oh, that’s a warp pad, It lets Gems travel around”
“Isn’t that a security issue?”
“Well only gems can use it, and the only gems on the planet right now are friendly”
(the secret service has their work cut out for them)
and then theres other things- like the time the president and her husband combined into one person at a state dinner. Or how the president is ridiculously badass with a sword. Or how the fist gentleman has five (or possibly six?) adoptive mothers. Or that time the president, her husband, and an insane eldritch monstrosity defended Washington DC from an alien spaceship. (approval ratings skyrocketed)
what I’m saying is: Take some time to imagine the shenanigans President Maheswaran would get up too. It will not disappoint.
Deputy Attorney General Sally Yates announced the decision on Thursday in a memo that instructs officials to either decline to renew the contracts for private prison operators when they expire or “substantially reduce” the contracts’ scope. The goal, Yates wrote, is “reducing — and ultimately ending — our use of privately operated prisons.”
In a blog post to department employees, the deputy attorney general pointed out that the federal prison population has been dropping overall, to fewer than 195,000 inmates, because of a shift in how low-level, nonviolent drug criminals are treated.
In making the decision, Deputy Attorney General Sally Yates cited new findings by the Justice Department’s inspector general, who concluded earlier this month that a pool of 14 privately contracted prisons reported more incidents of inmate contraband, higher rates of assaults and more uses of force than facilities run by the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
VOICEOVER: She wants a historically accurate thirteenth century castle in the heart of bustling downtown L.A. He has his heart set on living in a small metallic orb that would float over a bottomless gorge, beyond space and time. Can this pair of newlyweds see eye to eye???
WIFE: The location is nice but I don’t know about these staircases…I just had my heart set on an escalator made of sand and artisan brie.
HUSBAND: Well it’s definitely not a small floating metallic orb.
REALTOR: That…would defy several laws of physics.
WIFE (squinting): Do you have anything that is simultaneously larger, cheaper, newer, and more historic?
REALTOR: Um.
WIFE: And I need a big kitchen. I love to cook!
(Cut to footage of the wife in her current kitchen, wearing an apron and surrounded by pots and pans. She is hitting a banana with a hammer. On the counter next to her is a pile of doll hair.)
HUSBAND: Yeah, get her a nice kitchen. Of course, I won’t be spending any time in there, ha ha! (His laugh is loud but his eyes are so empty. They are empty all the way back.)
WIFE: And I need a room for my shoes. That is simply non-negotiable.
HUSBAND: Also, if we can swing it with our budget, I’d love a finished basement where I can really unwind and stew in my toxic masculinity and repressed emotion. And hardwood floors.
WIFE: And hardwood floors.
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN EERIE UNISON: Hardwood. Floors. (somehow it sounds like way more than two voices, more like the collective whisper of an army)
REALTOR: Okay, I will certainly, um. See what I can do? Anyway, this next house, it’s a metallic orb hanging on a sturdy cord near a ravine—
WIFE: Well it’s definitely not a genuine thirteenth century castle—
HUSBAND AND WIFE: (stare at each other in open contempt)
REALTOR: Heyyy so why don’t we take a look inside?
What if the first people to disparage “processed” food that “comes out of a machine” with “artificial chemicals” were secretly just ancient evil fae and like they can’t eat anything that touched steel or was tainted by human invention or something so they’re just trying to sabotage the world of men and return Earth to the seelie court I’m on to you little shits
Next hip diet trend:
“Food that has never crossed running water. HSSSSSSSSSS!!!!”
A Middleground 