DancingEngineer

My Malfoid rewrite of After the Burial (Chapter 22 of HBP, covering Aragog's funeral, when Harry uses Felix Felicis). This comes AFTER my sectum sempra scene in and reconciles Harry and Dracaena. There will be emotional damage. You have been warned. https://t.co/UG3wMUkajC

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DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

1 day ago

@Sheepfarmer373 Good lord, this is peak. This is how they both have the strength to go on.

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Thought Criminal. X is a necessary evil. Executive Producer. Semper Paratus. McCarthy was right.

DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

2 days ago

Goals

Katie K USA

@KimKatieUSA

3 days ago

There are people who put a lot of effort into their home for Halloween and there is this guy.

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DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

9 days ago

A smart video about data centers. What They're Not Telling You About Data Centers https://t.co/IR0lvMv7MK via @YouTube

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Navis Nobelite

@NavisNobelite

12 days ago

Grandmother's training was far more fulfilling than his constant brawls with Ron and Seamus, though far more mentally taxing. She chided him for trying to learn primitive muggle fighting techniques but did confess it made him less sloppy around the midsection. Her method of teaching was devoid of political correctness and didn't focus on wizarding combat, but rather the philosophy and ethics of violence itself. There was an odd element to the education, as if little pieces of his mind were finally fitting into his head that were missing, likely due to terrible Defense Against the Dark Arts classes he had experienced every year. Violence, or 'force' as she described it, was more than just bullies on a playground. The more he learned, the more he was ashamed of his past. “Why do you fight? For yourself? Someone Else? A Cause? Meaningless fights are useless wastes of time and you won’t have your heart behind it. Never step out into a battle without the driving goal of winning and never win for a bad reason.” She said, voice firm and strong. She pointed her long instructors stick at him and asked in a voice that Professor McGonnagall would respect, “What is the purpose of a fight?” He didn’t hesitate, this was the first lesson he had learned under her tutelage, “To get your opponent to do what you want them to do. There is no differentiation at any scale or intensity of combat, including global war, thus making force the ultimate deciding factor of any and all disputes.” She stepped towards him, seemingly satisfied with the answer but continued, “A Dark wizard has kidnapped a Muggle and demanded concessions from the Ministry of Magic or they will kill the Muggle. You are the leader of the team of Aurors sent to bring him to justice. The dark wizard in question is exceptionally good at battle and likely members of your team will not survive. How many of your team will you sacrifice to save the muggle?” He paused in thought, taking maybe a little too long for his grandmother's liking, but it was important to complete the logic chain, when he was ready he responded, “As many as are needed to free the muggle and apprehend the wizard.” Her brow raised, “Really? You would sacrifice skilled Aurors for the sake of a single muggle?” “Yes.” he said without hesitation “Even if your entire team is killed? Even if you are killed?” She said moving closer still, testing him “If every wizard in the world must die to save that one muggle, yes.” He said with certainty, the logic chain ironclaid in his mind. “Justify your statement.” “A single example of negotiation with an enemy shows willingness to sacrifice the principles of our whole civilization. Weakness is provocation. Diplomacy may be a tool in warfare, but by kidnapping a Muggle and attempting to extort concession or aggravate Wizard-Muggle relations means that Diplomacy has already ended. A clear and concise message must be sent to all parties that there will be zero tolerance to aggression or coercion and as such, no options will be left off the table. The dark wizard has attempted to use force to get us to do what he wants us to do, we must meet it with greater force, preferably overwhelming force to demonstrate the error of his ways.” He said staring straight ahead. “And the unforgivable curses?” She asked…That was her trump card. “Tools in a kit. Calling them unforgivable is an attempt to put false-moral bindings on things that could end the situation quickly and efficiently. Death can be caused by a thousand factors any moment, people can be manipulated with words instead of magic, and pain doesn't require a spell. Aurors are also authorized to use them when needed as well so it is a moot point to begin with.” His hand flexed a bit in the memory of pain. His Grandmother said nothing, just spinning on her heel and walking back from him, “Alright, lets say a muggle kidnaps a wizard and has a gun. You engage him but he manages to disarm you of your wand, but you have his gun. You have a clean shot, what do you do?” “I shoot him, preferably to kill.” “Justify it.” “The muggle has already demonstrated a willingness to kill me by opening fire with his gun. My life and safety are in danger, his actions demonstrate his willingness to risk his life in killing me. I shoot him to remove the threat and save the wizard.” Seemingly satisfied with his response, she tapped her stick on the table he was using as a desk, “What is your best class, Neville.” “Herbology,” he responded “Good boy, that's a fantastic class for combat.” she said as she moved to the chalkboard. The statement took him by surprise, he never really considered herbology as a combat school of wizardry “Herbology is one of the key means of waging war, be it healing and aiding your soldiers to direct wizard-to-wizard combat. Magical plants range from helpful to lethal and you must consider the best means of utilization of said plants in any situation. Sure, a wand can be expelliarmus’d out of your hand, but if you have a Venomous Tenacula plant in the other, you can make them regret they were ever born. You have an hour, write me a list of fifteen combat effective plants and how to best use them and five beneficial plants and their use.” she Instructed And he did, though the exercise was trivial to him, almost every plant could be used for a combat scenario, right down the Boober Tubers. She read the full report with amusement since she didn’t realize he had access to the restricted section of the greenhouse, “Bite a man in half you say?” she said, impressed, “I will have to order one for the garden.” The Hospital of St. Mungos was so familiar to him that he could walk to his parents room blindfolded. After checking in and carefully being searched by the security of the hospital, he quietly walked to their rooms, a bouquet of flowers in his arms. He took a deep breath and opened the door, carefully walking to the wilting bouquet in the vase that he left last time and replaced it with the new one. His parents were laying in their beds, eyes open and staring into oblivion, faces gaunt with unseen horror. Normally he talked to them about what happened at school in the past months, but he just sat there, taking time to hold his mother and fathers hands. So much had changed, yet this seemed impossible to undo. He spoke in a quiet voice, making sure that none would bleed out into the hallway, “I found your message, and looked in the family tome. I know what it means but I don’t know what I must do. I am making myself better, and I will do you proud when I figure it out. I won’t let evil persist in my school, I love you both so much.” With those final words, the hand of his father suddenly clenched down upon his, something that had never happened before, when he looked up, he saw his father staring right at him, his face twisted in the same horror it always was in, but now focused upon him. It was terrifying, more so than anything he had experienced before. His father spoke with vocal chords that hadn’t been used for fifteen years. “When you reach the heart of darkness, leave the bringer of light behind! Leave it behind damnit! Don't make Bedivere's mistake!” spoke his father, who’s eyes then unfocused and returned to their horrified staring, Neville had to gently lay him down in his bed again with shivering hands, his body filled with shock and terror. His fathers words echoed in his mind through the rest of the winter break, though his lessons with his grandmother never ended. Never once did she teach him an invocation or charm, instead she gave him harsh instructions on use of force, philosophy and morality. The lessons helped focus his mind, hone his thoughts into a sharpened point of determination. Harry had his own struggles, his own war, that was irrevocably connected to his own. He had to help, but in order to do so he needed to resolve threats to where he and his friends were struggling. As he sat on the Hogwarts express, looking out the window at the passing horizon as his mind hummed with subconscious thought. He felt lonely for the first time in a long time as he watched the frozen horizon gently drift past him, it was quite novel. In his first years he felt lonely almost all the time but in the last few years he couldn’t go down a corridor without Luna emerging from the shadows, training with Neville and Seamus, or just interactions with the other students. It was all somewhat surreal to him that he had changed in his feelings for this world he was thrust into, he no longer wanted to return to the way it was. He thought a lot about that during the night between lessons with his Grandmother, comparing his old life to this one. Would he have such a connection with Ron and Seamus? What about Harry and Malfoy? Hermione? What about Luna? He wasn’t a soft weakling anymore, he knew his family’s destiny… would it be the same in the place he came from? Would his father have spoken to him? Indecision roiled in him, what world was he in, the right or wrong one? Should he find a way back to his old one? Which one was better? Worse? Harry had been tortured, and by extension so had he. Would this have happened in the world he remembered? Harry was very clearly falling in love with Malfoy, which on its face seemed insane but the more he saw their interactions he realized that there was a complex dynamic between them that was more than just a bully and his victim. From what he saw of their behavior, Seamus and Ron had seen horrors well beyond what Neville had witnessed, but they were both honed and shaped by it, becoming competent and dedicated men. Did he have the right to take it all from them? His mind echoed back to what Luna had told him, ‘never go to the room of requirement unless someone else opens the door’. He expected, based upon the room, his indecision would give him dangerous tools that could cause incredible damage. He wondered if his father ever felt this incredible weight of responsibility on his shoulders. “Come in, Luna.” he said, purely on instinct at this point. Right about now, at his greatest peak of stress, Luna usually appeared with little warning, and he had gotten so good at predicting her that it was less of a game of predictions and more of how often he was wrong. This time he was, the door didn’t open. Neville found that curious, and rose from his seat and walked to the door. He opened the sliding door and looked around, seeing no one. His curiosity was piqued, and he began checking the various rooms in the train car to see if he could find Luna. Eventually he found her, alone and to his surprise, she looked miserable. The dreamy look was gone, her puffy blonde hair lacked it’s airy quality he was used to. In fact he barely recognized her. She had clearly been crying recently with enough force to make her face turn nearly maroon. He entered, giving her a startle, but he didn’t hesitate to sit next to her and hold her against him. She melted into his arms and began sobbed again, gripping his school robes and dumping what must have been years of emotion and anxiety. It took her nearly a half hour to finally calm down and finally say something “Thanks, Neville. I didn’t know I needed that.” She said, smiling weakly with a sniff. “What happened? Are you ok?” he asked, concern filling his heart. “No,” She sniffed, “but this makes it better” she said with a bit of a croak in her voice. “Luna, I have never seen you like this, what happened to you?” He asked, staring into her crystal blue eyes which made her blush pink once more. Hesitating, she responded, “Nothing yet. It's what will happen, could happen. I asked for too much and I was given it. I thought I was strong enough but I was wrong. Now I can’t unsee it and it makes me want to claw my eyes out to just make it go away." “What did you see? What could be so awful as that?” He asked, trying to hide his curiosity. Her eyes looked into his piercingly, meaningfully, clearly restricted in the details of what she could say, “What happens if you fail, if you try to undo the world, if we go back to what it was before. If you go to the Room of Requirement alone without a decision in your heart.” Another case of Luna knowing what was happening with little explanation, but it seems that whatever force gave her the information gave her exactly what she wanted, and it was as damaging to her as badly as a knife wound. She shuddered as the horrors started to re-emerge behind her eyes and buried herself in his robes. “Luna… I get that you can’t tell me everything, I figured out that much by now… but you need to tell me at least something. If I am the descendant of Arthur, I need something to help me understand what will happen if I make the wrong choice. I don’t want you to be my Merlin, I need you to be my Luna and at least give me something to work with!” He said desperately to her. There are moments where everyone in the world says something with deep and emotional meaning, usually in an attempt to get complex feelings out that typically language has problems describing. These statements can have alternate meanings that were not necessarily intended. For example, when Neville said “My Luna” he meant in his head ‘Luna Lovegood, a friend and person that I can trust, not some near-mythical super wizard that knows everything.’ We all have limited ability to control how others interpret these words. So when Luna heard the words “My Luna” she took it very literally, blushed nearly purple, grabbed Neville’s robes and kissed him full on the mouth. The action of instinct traveled through her nervous system faster than her thoughts, so when she realized what had happened, she parted, squealed, and ran out of the train car, leaving Neville sitting there shellshocked. So much can be answered with a simple kiss. As if the embattled fortress of his mind collapsed brick by brick only to assemble a full sized cathedral, pews and all. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was impulsive, maybe it was childish thinking but if he were to protect a world, let it be the one where his first kiss was from a cute blonde girl in a private train booth. He sat there for the rest of the trip, letting his mind spin on its own accord as his subconscious neatly reknit itself after being demolished by a pretty girl. "That's as good an answer as any." he said weakly, staring dumbfounded into space. #malfoid

NavisNobelite's tweet photo. Grandmother's training was far more fulfilling than his constant brawls with Ron and Seamus, though far more mentally taxing. She chided him for trying to learn primitive muggle fighting techniques but did confess it made him less sloppy around the midsection. Her method of teaching was devoid of political correctness and didn't focus on wizarding combat, but rather the philosophy and ethics of violence itself.

There was an odd element to the education, as if little pieces of his mind were finally fitting into his head that were missing, likely due to terrible Defense Against the Dark Arts classes he had experienced every year. Violence, or 'force' as she described it, was more than just bullies on a playground. The more he learned, the more he was ashamed of his past.

“Why do you fight? For yourself? Someone Else? A Cause? Meaningless fights are useless wastes of time and you won’t have your heart behind it. Never step out into a battle without the driving goal of winning and never win for a bad reason.” She said, voice firm and strong.

She pointed her long instructors stick at him and asked in a voice that Professor McGonnagall would respect, “What is the purpose of a fight?”

He didn’t hesitate, this was the first lesson he had learned under her tutelage, “To get your opponent to do what you want them to do. There is no differentiation at any scale or intensity of combat, including global war, thus making force the ultimate deciding factor of any and all disputes.”

She stepped towards him, seemingly satisfied with the answer but continued, “A Dark wizard has kidnapped a Muggle and demanded concessions from the Ministry of Magic or they will kill the Muggle. You are the leader of the team of Aurors sent to bring him to justice. The dark wizard in question is exceptionally good at battle and likely members of your team will not survive. How many of your team will you sacrifice to save the muggle?”

He paused in thought, taking maybe a little too long for his grandmother's liking, but it was important to complete the logic chain, when he was ready he responded, “As many as are needed to free the muggle and apprehend the wizard.”
Her brow raised, “Really? You would sacrifice skilled Aurors for the sake of a single muggle?”

“Yes.” he said without hesitation

“Even if your entire team is killed? Even if you are killed?” She said moving closer still, testing him

“If every wizard in the world must die to save that one muggle, yes.” He said with certainty, the logic chain ironclaid in his mind.

“Justify your statement.”

“A single example of negotiation with an enemy shows willingness to sacrifice the principles of our whole civilization. Weakness is provocation. Diplomacy may be a tool in warfare, but by kidnapping a Muggle and attempting to extort concession or aggravate Wizard-Muggle relations means that Diplomacy has already ended. A clear and concise message must be sent to all parties that there will be zero tolerance to aggression or coercion and as such, no options will be left off the table. The dark wizard has attempted to use force to get us to do what he wants us to do, we must meet it with greater force, preferably overwhelming force to demonstrate the error of his ways.” He said staring straight ahead.

“And the unforgivable curses?” She asked…That was her trump card.

“Tools in a kit. Calling them unforgivable is an attempt to put false-moral bindings on things that could end the situation quickly and efficiently. Death can be caused by a thousand factors any moment, people can be manipulated with words instead of magic, and pain doesn't require a spell. Aurors are also authorized to use them when needed as well so it is a moot point to begin with.” His hand flexed a bit in the memory of pain.

His Grandmother said nothing, just spinning on her heel and walking back from him,
“Alright, lets say a muggle kidnaps a wizard and has a gun. You engage him but he manages to disarm you of your wand, but you have his gun. You have a clean shot, what do you do?”
“I shoot him, preferably to kill.”
“Justify it.”
“The muggle has already demonstrated a willingness to kill me by opening fire with his gun. My life and safety are in danger, his actions demonstrate his willingness to risk his life in killing me. I shoot him to remove the threat and save the wizard.”

Seemingly satisfied with his response, she tapped her stick on the table he was using as a desk, “What is your best class, Neville.”
“Herbology,” he responded
“Good boy, that's a fantastic class for combat.” she said as she moved to the chalkboard. The statement took him by surprise, he never really considered herbology as a combat school of wizardry

“Herbology is one of the key means of waging war, be it healing and aiding your soldiers to direct wizard-to-wizard combat. Magical plants range from helpful to lethal and you must consider the best means of utilization of said plants in any situation. Sure, a wand can be expelliarmus’d out of your hand, but if you have a Venomous Tenacula plant in the other, you can make them regret they were ever born. You have an hour, write me a list of fifteen combat effective plants and how to best use them and five beneficial plants and their use.” she Instructed

And he did, though the exercise was trivial to him, almost every plant could be used for a combat scenario, right down the Boober Tubers. She read the full report with amusement since she didn’t realize he had access to the restricted section of the greenhouse, “Bite a man in half you say?” she said, impressed, “I will have to order one for the garden.”

The Hospital of St. Mungos was so familiar to him that he could walk to his parents room blindfolded. After checking in and carefully being searched by the security of the hospital, he quietly walked to their rooms, a bouquet of flowers in his arms. He took a deep breath and opened the door, carefully walking to the wilting bouquet in the vase that he left last time and replaced it with the new one. His parents were laying in their beds, eyes open and staring into oblivion, faces gaunt with unseen horror. Normally he talked to them about what happened at school in the past months, but he just sat there, taking time to hold his mother and fathers hands. So much had changed, yet this seemed impossible to undo.
He spoke in a quiet voice, making sure that none would bleed out into the hallway, “I found your message, and looked in the family tome. I know what it means but I don’t know what I must do. I am making myself better, and I will do you proud when I figure it out. I won’t let evil persist in my school, I love you both so much.”

With those final words, the hand of his father suddenly clenched down upon his, something that had never happened before, when he looked up, he saw his father staring right at him, his face twisted in the same horror it always was in, but now focused upon him. It was terrifying, more so than anything he had experienced before. His father spoke with vocal chords that hadn’t been used for fifteen years.

“When you reach the heart of darkness, leave the bringer of light behind! Leave it behind damnit! Don't make Bedivere's mistake!” spoke his father, who’s eyes then unfocused and returned to their horrified staring, Neville had to gently lay him down in his bed again with shivering hands, his body filled with shock and terror.

His fathers words echoed in his mind through the rest of the winter break, though his lessons with his grandmother never ended. Never once did she teach him an invocation or charm, instead she gave him harsh instructions on use of force, philosophy and morality. The lessons helped focus his mind, hone his thoughts into a sharpened point of determination.

Harry had his own struggles, his own war, that was irrevocably connected to his own. He had to help, but in order to do so he needed to resolve threats to where he and his friends were struggling. As he sat on the Hogwarts express, looking out the window at the passing horizon as his mind hummed with subconscious thought.

He felt lonely for the first time in a long time as he watched the frozen horizon gently drift past him, it was quite novel. In his first years he felt lonely almost all the time but in the last few years he couldn’t go down a corridor without Luna emerging from the shadows, training with Neville and Seamus, or just interactions with the other students. It was all somewhat surreal to him that he had changed in his feelings for this world he was thrust into, he no longer wanted to return to the way it was.
He thought a lot about that during the night between lessons with his Grandmother, comparing his old life to this one. Would he have such a connection with Ron and Seamus? What about Harry and Malfoy? Hermione? What about Luna? He wasn’t a soft weakling anymore, he knew his family’s destiny… would it be the same in the place he came from? Would his father have spoken to him?
Indecision roiled in him, what world was he in, the right or wrong one? Should he find a way back to his old one? Which one was better? Worse? Harry had been tortured, and by extension so had he. Would this have happened in the world he remembered? Harry was very clearly falling in love with Malfoy, which on its face seemed insane but the more he saw their interactions he realized that there was a complex dynamic between them that was more than just a bully and his victim. From what he saw of their behavior, Seamus and Ron had seen horrors well beyond what Neville had witnessed, but they were both honed and shaped by it, becoming competent and dedicated men.
Did he have the right to take it all from them? His mind echoed back to what Luna had told him, ‘never go to the room of requirement unless someone else opens the door’. He expected, based upon the room, his indecision would give him dangerous tools that could cause incredible damage. He wondered if his father ever felt this incredible weight of responsibility on his shoulders.
“Come in, Luna.” he said, purely on instinct at this point. Right about now, at his greatest peak of stress, Luna usually appeared with little warning, and he had gotten so good at predicting her that it was less of a game of predictions and more of how often he was wrong. This time he was, the door didn’t open. Neville found that curious, and rose from his seat and walked to the door. He opened the sliding door and looked around, seeing no one. His curiosity was piqued, and he began checking the various rooms in the train car to see if he could find Luna. Eventually he found her, alone and to his surprise, she looked miserable. The dreamy look was gone, her puffy blonde hair lacked it’s airy quality he was used to. In fact he barely recognized her. She had clearly been crying recently with enough force to make her face turn nearly maroon.
He entered, giving her a startle, but he didn’t hesitate to sit next to her and hold her against him. She melted into his arms and began sobbed again, gripping his school robes and dumping what must have been years of emotion and anxiety. It took her nearly a half hour to finally calm down and finally say something
“Thanks, Neville. I didn’t know I needed that.” She said, smiling weakly with a sniff.
“What happened? Are you ok?” he asked, concern filling his heart.
“No,” She sniffed, “but this makes it better” she said with a bit of a croak in her voice.
“Luna, I have never seen you like this, what happened to you?” He asked, staring into her crystal blue eyes which made her blush pink once more.
Hesitating, she responded, “Nothing yet. It's what will happen, could happen. I asked for too much and I was given it. I thought I was strong enough but I was wrong. Now I can’t unsee it and it makes me want to claw my eyes out to just make it go away."
“What did you see? What could be so awful as that?” He asked, trying to hide his curiosity.

Her eyes looked into his piercingly, meaningfully, clearly restricted in the details of what she could say, “What happens if you fail, if you try to undo the world, if we go back to what it was before. If you go to the Room of Requirement alone without a decision in your heart.”
Another case of Luna knowing what was happening with little explanation, but it seems that whatever force gave her the information gave her exactly what she wanted, and it was as damaging to her as badly as a knife wound. She shuddered as the horrors started to re-emerge behind her eyes and buried herself in his robes.
“Luna… I get that you can’t tell me everything, I figured out that much by now… but you need to tell me at least something. If I am the descendant of Arthur, I need something to help me understand what will happen if I make the wrong choice. I don’t want you to be my Merlin, I need you to be my Luna and at least give me something to work with!” He said desperately to her.

There are moments where everyone in the world says something with deep and emotional meaning, usually in an attempt to get complex feelings out that typically language has problems describing. These statements can have alternate meanings that were not necessarily intended. For example, when Neville said “My Luna” he meant in his head ‘Luna Lovegood, a friend and person that I can trust, not some near-mythical super wizard that knows everything.’

We all have limited ability to control how others interpret these words. So when Luna heard the words “My Luna” she took it very literally, blushed nearly purple, grabbed Neville’s robes and kissed him full on the mouth. The action of instinct traveled through her nervous system faster than her thoughts, so when she realized what had happened, she parted, squealed, and ran out of the train car, leaving Neville sitting there shellshocked.

So much can be answered with a simple kiss. As if the embattled fortress of his mind collapsed brick by brick only to assemble a full sized cathedral, pews and all. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was impulsive, maybe it was childish thinking but if he were to protect a world, let it be the one where his first kiss was from a cute blonde girl in a private train booth. He sat there for the rest of the trip, letting his mind spin on its own accord as his subconscious neatly reknit itself after being demolished by a pretty girl.

"That's as good an answer as any." he said weakly, staring dumbfounded into space.

#malfoid

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DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

12 days ago

@NavisNobelite Oh my god. This is magnificent

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DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

12 days ago

@polijus8654 Nice use of "Young And Beautiful"

DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

14 days ago

@TheBadUncle @GaryD20Games Oklahoma City

DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

14 days ago

@TheBadUncle @GaryD20Games I saw the Ratt Poison show

DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

14 days ago

@GaryD20Games Marty Robbins Styx Rush Van Halen Blue Oyster Cult Willie Nelson The Black Keys Nick Cave Lyle Lovett Sturgill Simpson Red Clay Strays

DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

19 days ago

I have noticed this.

Massimo

@Rainmaker1973

20 days ago

«The decline of a civilization»

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russmaxkinder retweeted

schmede

@schmede_AI

21 days ago

@JaimeTheOne2 Quality Yearning Center I'm fucking dead ahahahahhah

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russmaxkinder retweeted

Cody Jinks

@CodyJinksMusic

27 days ago

Still raisin’ hell 🤘

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DancingEngineer @russmaxkinder

26 days ago

They pronounce it kitty quay. Amazing

Traces of Texas

@TracesofTexas

27 days ago

Sure, we've got some funny ways of pronouncing some of our town names in Texas. Everybody knows that. But we're also polite enough to help you out. Traces of Texas reader John Denholm was in Quitaque, Texas a couple of years ago when he spotted this sign which was obviously prompted by a real need --- that of the citizens of Quitaque to not hear so many questions about how the name of their town is pronounced. 😀 It's "kitty quay." Just remember that the next time you go to Caprock Canyons State Park and you'll fit right in with the locals. Thank you, John. This made me smile!