Pull Ups Diapers Story

While inspecting my company’s cold-chain operations, my wife, Mandy Snow, and the college boy I’d been sponsoring suddenly vanished. As I passed the cabinet storing the research supplies, a stream of floating comments suddenly flashed before my eyes. “That was way too close! Jeff Miller almost caught them. Good thing Mandy reacted fast and dragged her boy toy into the storage cabinet.” “But that cabinet is about to be locked up and shipped to the Antarctic research station. Are those two trying to turn themselves into ice sculptures?” I froze. My wife was cheating on me right under my nose? I was just about to pull open the cabinet door when my wife’s assistant hurried over and forced a smile, blocking my way. “Mr. Miller, the seal on this cabinet was just waxed and hasn’t dried yet. Careful, or you’ll get your hands dirty.” The floating comments appeared again. “That was so close! The assistant’s pretty sharp. Once the female lead gets out, she totally owes him a car.” “No wonder she’s the lucky heroine. She always gets out of trouble. I seriously can’t wait to watch her sweet romance with her boy toy.” Looking at the comments in front of me, I let out a cold laugh. “These are critical supplies for the research team. To make sure nothing goes wrong, seal the cabinet right now.” “Go get a welder. Weld the door shut.” The assistant froze, and so did the floating comments. “What the hell? This evil supporting male character is brutal. The two people inside aren’t wearing a thing.” “Help! If the door gets welded shut, the male and female leads are going to drift at sea for a month and freeze into specimens!”

Welcome to the bottom of hell, leave all your dreams and hopes outside. You won’t need them anymore, once you’re in, you’re in for life, how many people have gotten into hell and got the chance to get out ever again. That was Eden's life, until they came in, until they saved her from the bottom of hell, turn out there was a line out of there, they turned her life into a literal Eden. But not all sweet things last forever, do they? Enjoy their ride of ups and down and their relationship. This is a CGL story, you've been warned. Apologize for any misspelling or Grammar mistakes.

On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me. Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference. "The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%." I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me. "I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!" The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!" I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket. "Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

It was our seventh anniversary. Christopher Quinton proposed to me with nothing but a ring pull. He got his true love a house. When I said no, he rebuked me like I was some sort of gold digger. "I thought my love for you was worth more than anything money could buy. I only got Rachel that house to pay her back for all she did for me. I can't believe you thought I still loved her. You disappoint me." I broke up with him and tossed the ring pull into the bin. Then, I walked off. The next day, Christopher took away my position as VP and told everyone he was getting engaged to Rachel. … Five years later, we ran into each other at a charity horserace. He was a successful businessman, and the woman beside him was Rachel, all dressed in custom-made clothes. I was dressed in janitor attire and stuffing plastic bottles into my woven bag. He mocked, "Look at you, Queenie Dean. Scavenging for a living. Bet you didn't see this coming when you ditched me, did you?" I ignored him. My son had run off, and I had to look for him. The boy noticed the plastic bottles that were strewn across the ground, and he insisted that we stay back to finish his social practice activity here.

When my mother-in-law has a heart attack, my husband, who's a heart surgeon, is busy preparing food for his first love's cat. I call him and urge him to return to save my mother-in-law. He says icily, "What is wrong with you, Esther? How dare you curse my mother just to make me head home!" After that, he hangs up. My mother-in-law dies in surgery, yet he's busy watching a concert with his first love. When he returns the following day to see me holding an urn, he's so angry that he throws the bag he's holding at me. "Look at how Lexie was considerate enough to buy clothes for my mother. All you know how to do is get Mom to pull these dumb acts with you!" I sneer. His mother is already dead—what use are those clothes?

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

I'm the daughter of a gang leader. The thing is, I never liked violence since I was a kid. All I want is to live life like a regular person. Upon realizing that I'm still single despite being 28 years old, Dad issues me an ultimatum and forces me to go on a blind date. Otherwise, he will never acknowledge me as his daughter. Soon, I arrive at the location of the blind date. When I walk past a luxury store, a handbag happens to catch my eye. Just as I'm about to pay for it, a woman pops out from behind me and slaps a black card onto the counter. "I'm buying that bag, and that's final! Wrap it up for me!" I tell the woman nicely, "Miss, I'm the one who wants to buy this bag first." Unexpectedly, the woman begins berating me arrogantly. "A broke bitch like you only has the right to feast your eyes on this bag! Now get lost! I'm the secretary of Mr. Cohen Campbell, the CEO of Skyreach Corp! No one in this city has the guts to fight over the things that I want with me!" Cohen Campbell? Isn't that my blind date partner? I pull out my phone and call him right away. "Cohen, do you have any idea that your secretary has a habit of using your name just to bully others?"

On the night before I'm set to officially marry Shawn Ford, he keeps losing to his godsister, Tiffany Lynch, at the poker table on purpose. "We're just playing for fun. Aren't we a family? Everyone here knows that Tiffany and I are as thick as thieves since young." Tiffany plays with a poker card absent-mindedly. "Surely you don't mind, right? Shawn told me that if I were to win this round, he'd give me the funds meant to renovate your marital home so that I can buy myself some bags." The other players begin to cheer on Tiffany at that moment. "Hell yeah! Tiffany is really lucky when it comes to poker! Joanna, there's no use saving that meager salary of yours. Why don't you just bet everything on the table to spice things up?" I don't bother speaking afterward. All I do is pull out a chair and sit across from Shawn. Then, I dig out a property deed from my bag. "You wanted to spice things up, right? I just bought this property at full price. Do you have the guts to put everything you have on the stake?"