Washed Up (807 hits)
Category: UberMadness!Rating: 0.67 on 55 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by UberMadness! (View user info) at 2006-10-10 11:50:18 EDT
 |
This post is officially part of UberMadness!. Click here for more information on the rules and restrictions. |
Entry 1
Richard felt a dry, stinging thirst at the back of his throat, almost nauseating. Somehow, when he'd signed up for this, he'd managed to forget his debts long enough to get himself thoroughly sloshed on gin the night before leaving port. A few yards away, a bit of scraggly seaweed wrapped around some driftwood washed gently up against the shingle, as the wooziness hit him again. He reminded himself it would be less frowned upon to heave when they'd hit the open sea, and held it down for later."Orright, lads! Look lively! We have all this lovely cargo to shift so move those boots! Quick smart!" The first mate Robertson then addressed him briefly, in the same crude manner and hoarse voice. "Yes, you my dear dandy, Jones, was it not? One foot in front of the other, they call it walking! Now get to work!"
It was not quite yet dawn. There was a hint of breeze, expected to pick up to a good solid wind soon enough, if he was any judge of the weather. He set into a steady charge towards the storehouse, careful never to break into a trot. You run once, they expect it every time, and even the royal marines couldn't keep that up. Shortly, Richard found himself hauling a crate of limes up the gangplank and below decks. Most of the moments in between that and casting off were a blur, but that's what comes of mother's ruin and a half night's sleep.
Three days later, three days of heaving and hurling and falling over on deck, he managed to swallow a mouthful of ships biscuit without losing it again. Dunsley, a seasoned deckhand, laughed, but restrained himself from patting 'Richie' on the back. "It looks like there's a storm brewing toward the west. Y' ain't got your sea legs by now, feller, you'll be holed up for a while."
Twelve weeks of sailing and bad weather saw them in Kingston. He'd spent most of the voyage below decks, in a rank smell with even ranker company. Aside from the surrounds, it was much of a muchness for Richard, as he would have thrown everything up regardless. So much for the sobriety of Mister Jones.
At the docks, Richard noted that the little unloading to be done, was done by the local help; each one of them, to a man, half a shade short of coal. Robertson was especially mean to them, even gave one a clip around the ears. It was usual enough though, considering what Britain thought of the rest of the world. The officer class especially had no respect for folk any more exotic than Spaniards or French.
Richard spent most of the next week with Dunsley &co., hanging around taverns, coffee shops, and whorehouses, generally pissing up their pay. There had been a town fire a few years back, but the old hands seemed to know the place, all the same. Each day the ship sank lower into the water, weighted down with sugar sacks.
When it was time to set sail though, he bought out the rest of the contract. As far as he was concerned, aside from London - and he was most certainly not going back there - there weren't many more interesting places around than Jamaica. In London, he'd be robbed as soon as leaving the docks, for one, and with debts to pay, it was not worth the risk.
* * *
A few years later, one of the many ships to come to the port of Kingston contained a man by the name of Piers White. Now, being a slight and wiry sort of fellow, he had mostly made his living as a pick-pocket and small trader. The sort you wouldn't think out of place in a Nazareth in the west end of London, or a sly-grog shop in any given colony. 'Squeaky Pete', as those in the know called him, had been to a lot of foreign parts, and stolen most of the trinkets. A few years back he'd managed to get home to Mother England just in time to find a grudge to bear against Richard. Nothing based on any events or occurrences, mind, just a solemn dislike for the man. Richard had returned the sentiment ever since the man tried to break his nose.
A sturdy Irishman, strong and true, threw a scruffy bar-fly out an open door into the full daylight of the street. He yelled out into the dusty path, more for any unsavoury passers-by than the drunkard, who was already departing. "I told you to call it quits, ye bastard! We'll not have sods like you picking bloody fights, you mind! Don't come back here for your pleasure!" Queen's English had no place in an establishment like this.
Richard sauntered in past the brawn, looked once around the place, and promptly reached over the bar to pour himself a stiff drink; he knew the publican, who never minded him serving himself if the staff were busy. The place was mostly empty, aside from a few locals. There were few ships in harbour this week.
He recognised Piers, half drunk in a corner, and hoped he hadn't been spotted. A couple of Richard's friends were sitting around a barrel in the centre of the room, on half-barrel stools. Madge, the barmaid, vacated a seat to share another with the retired sea-captain Percy, and on the other stool a merchant, Pevensey. Richard managed to get from bar to stool without breaking stride.
Being the man that he was, Piers wouldn't hesitate to sell out our good man Richard Jones. Piers had his contacts with the debt-collectors; a few of them were on good terms with him. It served his interests entirely, as he'd get a cut of any money that was actually turned out of a man's pockets. That was decent business, and all above board, too.
Strangely enough though, Piers didn't see him. A change of air had done Richard all the better; he was now thicker in the arm, and decently dressed, having avoided financial trouble with a job as a storeman on Harbour street. He'd even saved some money, considering what might happen if someday his debts caught up with him. Richard was taking advantage of the man's lapse in concentration, for the moment.
A half hour later, the man still drunk in the corner, Richard marched stridently towards the rear door, where folk went for a piss out the back. Instead of exiting, however, he lunged on Piers and pinned him to the wall above his barrel stool. "Squeaky Pete, you bloody mongrel. What foul current washed your scurvy hide up here?"
Madge swooned, and Percy held her; Pevensey snickered. The brawn was nowhere to be seen. It was like catching a cockroach on the end of a knife.
Piers swallowed, hard. It didn't take long after that before he realised who was assailing him. It didn't take much longer to realise the brawn wasn't going to do anything about it, as he was flirting with a dark-skinned servant-girl, out in the street. "Have you anything to say for yourself, Mister White? I see you've come looking for your usual trouble. I've a right mind to turn you in for thievery. Now both hands up, you! Before I beat the living daylights out of ye!"
His left hand had been on his pint mug, the other in his pocket. Richard hadn't payed any attention to this before, but as Piers raised his arms, shaking with fear Richard noticed that the right hand was missing. He stammered and panted between words. "I'm - washed up, Richie, like you - said, sir. Baghdad, last year, on - the road - home from India. I got caught - robbing - a watch - dealer and I've - no way to - make a - proper - living. Me cousin owns a - plantation here though, and - offered me - room and board - for what little I can - do. As you see sir, I've no - courage or - strength left for - old quarrels, and I'd rather - leave sleeping dogs lie, if you'll - allow it, sir."
Richard dropped the man back on his stool, wandered over to his drink, and snapped at Piers before he could say anything more. "Don't be coming back here again, Mister White, you'll not be welcome. Now finish up, and be off with you by this evening. If I see your face in Kingston again, you rascal, I'll turn you over to Her Majesty's finest. Understood? No, don't answer, just piss off."
Piers swallowed his beer quickly and disappeared out the back door, staggering. It didn't look like he'd be around again; just another piece of human driftwood on a beach now.
- VS -
Entry 2
Eyes darting, searching the ground, Danny weaved between the people adorned with briefcases and tightly knotted ties. Anxiously he scanned the sidewalk in front of the building for the missing bag as if it might appear where it wasn't moments ago. His unshaven face and weathered cap clashed with the smooth tailored professionals who were arriving for work. But they, as always, failed to notice Danny as they made their way through the morning pleasantries delivered only to those in proper attire.
For the second time in 10 minutes, Danny merged into an open slot in the rotating glass door of the 30-story structure. His pace forcibly slowed to that of the mechanical stroll of the turning glass panels. Water stained work boots shuffled along with the polished Italian leather of the suited man beyond the moving glass in front of him. The man in pressed linen with silver buckled briefcase was released into the marbled interior and three steps later Danny in denim and wrinkled grey cotton emerged as well. The hum of conversation dispersed into the elevators and more replaced it with each turn of the door.
On his first day of work nearly nine years ago, it was made clear that maintenance personnel were to use the side building entrance. While their contribution to the building's appearance was greatly appreciated, the main entrance and its seasonally fresh flowers were for the tenants. He was given some space in the lower level janitors' room to store his equipment. His name was written in permanent marker over a hook used to hold his harness and cables. Buckets, squeegees and cleaning solutions were to be stored neatly in designated areas. Management was not responsible for loss or theft of personal belongings stored in company lockers. Other than the occasional encounter with Larry, head of maintenance, Danny generally managed to avoid contact with those inside the building. He preferred getting to know them from the outside, somewhat separated from their consent.
The satchel that had ridden on his hip each day on the job was not in his locker. It was not in the trunk of his car, under any seat or behind any door. It wasn't the streak-free absorbent sponges he feared losing. Danny maneuvered towards the Visitor's Desk, where, according to Page 43 of the Employee Manual, he would find the Lost and Found.
Before reaching the desk he could see the clock-shaped sign on the counter read "Back in 10 Minutes" as it had 10 minutes ago. As if in cruel conspiracy with Danny's predicament Eva Schmidt had taken an uncharacteristically long morning break. The paper towel note he had left earlier lay untouched on her chair. "Please help! I'm looking for a brown leather bag. Very important! ~ Danny (the window washer)." He had considered writing, "don't look inside," but that would have guaranteed it.
He checked his watch, his shift started in four minutes and the satchel, its contents and Eva were gone.
..........................................
He had always liked photography but his father made it clear that such artsy fartsy nonsense would never lead to a fruitful career. Seventeen thousand dollars worth of failed higher education left both Danny and his father in agreement that any dreams of recognized success were washed up. Working his way up from general building maintenance, Danny had considered it a respectable accomplishment to pass the Commercial Window Washer training and safety class and be given a 75 cent an hour raise. His father, a property manager of significant clout, remained unimpressed, but he had a problem with heights.
The first time Danny lowered himself from the roof of the National Union Bank he marveled at the view of the structural landscape. The boundless sky reflected from tinted glass windows and Danny was on top of the world. He hung from two-inch diameter ANSI safety-rated cables with his yellow wash bucket, extendable squeegee and a brown leather satchel. In the beginning only the cloths, sponges and a forty-dollar digital camera filled the space in the bag.
The idea occurred to him quite by accident about eight years ago. Arms aching, fingernails stained slate gray from scratching stubborn bird deposit from one of many edges, Danny punched the clock in the janitors' room. He stuffed all of his belongings into Locker #3 except the leather bag slung over his shoulder. He walked to his car that was waiting the service lot in the rear of the building and drove the seven miles home.
Once inside his second floor studio apartment, Danny kicked off his work boots from his water soaked socks and let them tumble beneath the table. He leaned back in the hardwood chair and scrolled through the pictures of the day. Images of clouds impersonating farm animals, yellow taxis in greedy lines and one unexpected picture of Lucy Holland's uncrossed legs, flashed before him.
Danny stared at the small image on the screen for several minutes, transferred the file to his computer and stared at it in higher resolution, for several minutes more. Beyond the shadows of the window glass, he could see bare knees parted slightly below the edge of a cream colored skirt. Black strapped shoes lay on the floor near an overstuffed purse. Although blue commercial grade carpet consumed most of the picture, the partial curve of the woman's hip that stopped at the edge of the photograph left Danny wanting more. Feeling exposed, he got up and closed the blinds.
The company directory identified Lucy Holland, Marketing Agent, as the woman with the provocative knees who occupied the center office on the north side of the 22nd Floor. Lucy's phone number was clearly displayed but Danny didn't write it down. He preferred to keep his relationships at a distance and mostly in his head. The directory listed over 300 names of those who worked inside. The people were neatly organized into departments separated by floors. Danny decided to look inside and see what he was missing.
At the start of every shift, he prepared his equipment and looked forward to the day's catch. The windows weren't getting cleaned to the same scrutiny as before, but no one seemed to notice. The content of his photos was improving. He enjoyed the captured images of bent over secretaries but as the months progressed, he found himself drawn to the more questionable attractions of human behavior. He watched from an outside corner sill as Norma Jordon, Floor 17, tucked the remains of a fifth of vodka behind the file folders in her lower left drawer. The photo if sent to just the right person, would do wonders in erasing that collagen-enhanced smugness from her face. Randy Pendergrass from Floor 11 appeared to be smiling at the camera, invincible with four white lines on the desk before him. He didn't fault Jim Hacket from the 9th Floor Human Resources Department, for appreciating Japanese Internet porn, but he took the picture anyway, ranking it better than the stapler and four calculators photographed being put inside Shelly Taylor's shoulder bag.
He watched the occupants with suspended interest, day after day, logging their actions and picking his favorite, most guilty character from each floor. On one particularly productive day, Nancy Parker enthusiastically straddled the lap of Troy Ferris, neither aware of the man on the other side of the window with the digital camera 14 stories up. Danny wondered if she was aware of the wedding picture stashed in Troy's file cabinet.
Later that night, he printed copies of the image and inserted one into each of the 30 pre-stamped envelopes. Each envelope was neatly addressed to an acting department manager, some of whom were featured in his work. Danny ensured that members of each department were represented in his private collection. Whenever a blind was dropped with dismissive rudeness, he savored the thought of his subjects viewing his pictures, knowing at last the position he held over them.
Possession of the prepared envelopes empowered him beyond any penthouse executive. His authority was claimed without witness. Mailing the letters would of course expose the sender along with those displayed inside. As the years passed he held the letters close, their contents upgraded when better material arrived. His armor improved with each new photograph and he remained invisible to his targets just outside the window.
..........................................
The lock clicked on the door to the janitors' room at 6:30 am. Larry, head of maintenance, flipped on the light and immediately noticed a brown satchel next to a locker, clearly not stored per protocol. Without considering it's obvious owner, Larry took the bag and left it at the front desk for Eva, to sort out.
Half eaten bagel in hand, Eva eyed the brown leather satchel resting on the marbled counter. She shifted her bulk behind the desk and inspected the exterior of the bag for identification. Non-found, she justified the bags invasion and inside she found a digital camera and several neatly addressed, pre-stamped envelopes - thirty to be exact; one was addressed to her.
Eva shifted her weight in the chair and glanced around the lobby. The glass-paneled door began to turn. She felt the thickness of the envelope with her name carefully printed. She envisioned a long-awaited invitation that shouldn't be lost in the Lost and Found and considered the mailbox one block away.
Letters tucked under her arm, she locked the satchel in a drawer beneath the desk and adjusted the sign on the counter to read "Back in 10 Minutes." She didn't notice the unshaven man in the baseball cap entering the building.
Entry 1:
Bellebrown
BLITZKREIG_BOB
FuckTheArmy
ghola
jgreening
JMG114
redskieslookfake
sicosemen
stevie_says
9 eligible votes (9 total) *
Entry 2:
Adamdidit2u
Amontillado
Axolotl
BadAssJulie
CaptainThorns
charminglybeef
coley
Confuzitron
Crystle
Davros
DrogoRoch
EchoBoxing
extacy_red
FunnyAsCancer
goferforhire
Hirilnara
HotWillie
hour_man
Impassive-Digressive
intellismartness
Jack_McCallum
joedaddy
JoeyG
JonnyX
justagirl27
LT
Magicaddict
MandaPanda
nrduncan
Orgasmatron
ParlorTrick
rad1101
Sacrilicious
sandsoftime
simple_catalyst
sparkle_pink
Stagger_Lee
supadupapupa
Susie_Derkins
Targa
The_taste_of_Monkeys
v8lover
38 eligible votes (42 total) *
* Eligible votes are those made by users who had either (A) posted 3+ messages OR (B) written 100+ [lowered from 750+] reviews as of the beginning of the UberMadness! competition.
User Reviews
Submitted by FuckTheArmy (user info) at 2006-10-16 03:34:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Reconsideration:
I probably still won't be back next year.
However, the reasons are less obvious.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-10-13 11:08:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
#1 was really well written, but I liked the second story better.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2006-10-13 10:46:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
YAAR!
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2006-10-13 06:29:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Worth reading! Good job number 2 I really enjoyed the story!
Submitted by Hirilnara (user info) at 2006-10-13 05:33:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
1 just felt incomplete, sorry.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-10-12 17:57:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Both around the same level.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-10-12 14:04:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
#1 was incredibly well written, but I really felt that the story fell flat.
#2 relied more on its plot, but I must say that the tale was a better one to tell.
Who should be rewarded, the wordsmith or the storyteller?
Submitted by Bellebrown (user info) at 2006-10-12 05:45:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'll be honest. I cant be bothered to read any more uber madness... so I'm randomly awarding my vote on the flip of a coin.
Heads is Entry 1
Tails is Entry 2
This one was heads.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-10-12 05:19:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Targa (user info) at 2006-10-12 04:29:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by FuckTheArmy (user info) at 2006-10-12 03:59:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I will not be back next year.
For obvious reasons.
Submitted by FuckTheArmy (user info) at 2006-10-12 03:57:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-10-12 00:24:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Both good. Tough choice.
I want to know what happened next in #2! Gripping read
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2006-10-11 23:54:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Loved entry 2.
Submitted by justagirl27 (user info) at 2006-10-11 16:28:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2006-10-11 10:37:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I don't know what it was about number one, but it didn't hold my interest.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-10-11 10:36:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I didn't like the dialect in entry 1, but 2 was lacking presence and the very first senctence was gnarled in an unlikeable way.
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:02:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I lost who was what and who was doing what in number 1. #2 I enjoyed the twisted little tale a lot.
Submitted by LT (user info) at 2006-10-11 06:22:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2006-10-11 04:10:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
#2 - Good. Very good. Really enjoyed the pacing and the resolution. #1 should have won another matchup - we have plenty going to spare.
Submitted by sandsoftime (user info) at 2006-10-11 03:50:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-10-11 02:38:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-10-11 01:39:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Upon rereading my last review I feel compelled to stress that both of these were very good, and number 2 was AWESOME.
Didn't mean to come off as so critical.
Good job.
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-10-11 01:37:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
both pretty good but I couldn't get into story 1; maybe just personal taste
#2: loved the idea.
There were some really tiny wording issues that could have been better but I'm just a picky bitch like that. Ironic, considering I'm really not a good writer myself..but I do love to read so I notice stuff like that. Later on when your identity is (DUN DUN DUNN) revealed, if you wanna know what I meant, tell me and I'll explain what I'm talking about.
Both good.
2 better.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-11 00:18:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2006-10-11 00:03:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:52:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:34:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by charminglybeef (user info) at 2006-10-10 21:16:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow -- this was the best matchup I've read so far.
Entry one was very true to its setting. Impressive use of dialogue and diction to that end.
Just sorta fizzled out though, didn't it? The writing was so damn good, but it did very little to develop the story.
Entry two kicked my ass all over the place. One of the first pieces I've seen that comes together so well in both the style and content.
Great work.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-10-10 21:10:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2006-10-10 20:19:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Entry one wasn't too bad, but there was something about #2 that I really enjoyed.
Submitted by BadAssJulie (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:52:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Has a picture
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:24:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-10-10 17:46:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2006-10-10 17:28:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was a tough vote. These were both incredible. Both authors should be very proud.
I loved the voice in entry one. The thing that bothered me in entry two was Eva's act of mailing the letters. What if Danny later asked Eva about the satchel? What would she say? "Yes, it's here, and I took the liberty of mailing the letters inside of it for you"? It seemed a little hard to believe that anyone would do such a thing... combining nosy with nice. I didn't buy it. Still, the story was extremely well-written.
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2006-10-10 16:01:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:45:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:45:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-10-10 14:17:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
they were both far too long and boring. two had a picture though so they get my vote.
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:55:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
#1, I kind of liked this but the ending seemed something of a let down.
#2, I thought the connection to the title was somewhat tenuous, but well written nonetheless.
-Dave
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:51:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 window perving
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:47:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for entry 2
0 for Entry 1
Submitted by Confuzitron (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:34:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:29:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I didn't understand #2's ending, but at least it had a plot.
#1, nice little ramble there, though.
Submitted by ParlorTrick (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:28:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:16:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
While both authors gave it a good shot, writing actual stories, I found #2 more compelling. #1 was okay, but it was like watching an old Errol Flynn swashbuckler picture. Nothing wrong with that, but there wasn't anything new there. The window washer thing was a nice twist on something we see every day.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:58:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:57:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:53:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I had no idea what the fuck #1 was talking about.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:29:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:14:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Number one had potential but didn't really go anywhere with the plot.
Number two is perfect in practically every way.
Submitted by v8lover (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:10:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Voyeurism
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:08:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
kinda liked them both actually
Submitted by hour_man (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:03:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:53:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The