The Proof Is In The Pudding の小説・ストーリー

“What are you afraid of? If they want to disprove our statement, they must produce some evidence. Where would they get proof?” Then, she added, “I’ll tell my assistant to bring them over right now!”

“We’re a tumor to you, huh? You accuse us of squandering and plundering your precious resources. Do you have any evidence to back that up?” Matthew scoffed and sneered. “Evidence? How about the plummeting sales of your company? Is that enough ‘evidence’? But, of course, seeing is believing, right? I prefer showing things in good old black-and-white. So if ‘evidence’ is what you seek, then ‘evidence’ is what all of us, including the jury, will get! Let’s see if Beacon Tires deserve to exist beyond today!”

The proof is in the dissolved puddle of monster goo we just created. Maybe that's enough for now. Not answers, not resolution, but proof that whatever connects us works when it matters most. Fire. I finally have my gift. Just in time for the world to potentially end. Perfect timing, as usual.

“You are going to need clear, believable, factual, and verifiable proof.” Great. Just great. How am I supposed to get that?

𝘼 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬-𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙪𝙚𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙙. ~𝙅𝙖𝙣𝙚 – 𝙎𝙤𝙛𝙠𝙖 𝙕𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙛𝙛, 𝙋𝙪𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙮 ***

He pointed at the plate of pudding and said, “Look, the pudding is already sinking and soggy, proving that it was prepared quite some time ago and that it’s not the most authentic and fresh pudding from Grand Metro Garden. My Emma is not going to eat this pudding.” This… Clayton's face turned green almost instantly. Did his two-to three-thousand-dollar-per-plate first-class puddings, for which he worked hard and obtained through connections, end up being insulted and trampled on? “Hoho, Thomas, talking big aren’t you. “You’re saying that my pudding is all soggy and not good enough for Emma? Well, you try bringing one that’s good enough then. “Don’t just move your lips and speak lightly.

“If you have proof, show it to me.” Paul pulls out his phone and scrolls through it. Pressing play on a voicemail recorded message, he had saved to his phone. “Here’s your proof.”

Her temper exploded a few seconds later. "Proof? Mr. Hoffman has already provided all the proof we need! What else do you have to say for yourself?"

"Proof is not the moment of discovery. Proof is the moment you understand that what you have found cannot be explained away. Cannot be reframed. Cannot be survived by the person it names. That is when discovery becomes consequence." * * * We call Garrett from the herb shop at half past eight.

He looked at the proof, this beautiful, poisonous flower he had nurtured in the dark, and all he could see was the cost. This evidence was here weeks ago. If he had believed instead of tested. If he had held on instead of doubted. If he had loved instead of needing proof of his own worth. This portfolio contained the truth that could have saved them, and he had reached it too late, holding it in hands already stained with the fruit of his doubt.