#breaker

American movie poster art for "Breaker! Breaker!" starring Chuck Norris, 1977

MANCHESTER, England — Andy Burnham, likely the next U.K. prime minister, pledged Monday to give away a chunk of his power by handing greater autonomy to local leaders in a “circuit-breaker” for the sclerotic British state. Limited time: Save 25% on NBC News subscription Get exclusive reporting, live Q&As and ad-free reading. The former mayor of Greater Manchester also said he would move part of…

Them together

Them digging near the river

Both of them seem like males, so I'll roll with that. The brown one shall be named Breaker and the Black and white one shall be named Poltergeist (After one of my friends)

NYC like early Strokes!

“Keep Out” is a driving indie rock track that blends post-punk atmosphere with hook-driven alternative songwriting. It captures the push and pull between wanting closeness and instinctively shutting it out, where emotional distance can start to feel safer than connection.

Recorded live in a single room without a click, the track was captured as a full performance rather than constructed piece by piece. Nothing is over-corrected or smoothed out. Subtle tempo shifts, dynamic surges, and human imperfections remain in the recording, creating a tense, breathing energy that mirrors the emotional instability at the core of the song.

The song moves with restless momentum and strong melodic choruses, built on a loose, energetic performance style that feels immediate and alive. Guitars are driving but slightly unhinged and playful, giving the track motion and character, while the vocal stays upfront and human, carrying tension, contradiction, and emotional friction rather than resolution.

Breaker has built a growing NYC following through consistent live shows, with over 15.8K Instagram followers and sold-out headline sets at Mercury Lounge, Arlene’s Grocery, and Silver Lining Lounge. “Keep Out” is the first release to fully translate that live energy onto record, turning years of performance-driven momentum into a focused, melodic statement built for both rooms and playlists.

The first test cook for Grillzilla became an event before Tonya even lit the fire.

That was the problem with having friends.

Word got out.

The quarry workers showed up.

The bikers showed up.

The construction crews showed up.

Several reporters somehow appeared.

One elderly biker rolled into the parking lot, saw the grill, and immediately removed his sunglasses.

"My God."

"It ain't God," Brock said proudly.

"It's Grillzilla."

The old biker stared.

"...I stand corrected."

Tonya spent the first hour doing something none of the reporters expected.

She ignored everyone.

She was studying the smoker.

Checking airflow.

Testing dampers.

Watching how the smoke moved.

Feeling heat with the back of her hand.

Listening to the blower.

Carlos arrived halfway through.

The moment he saw the grill he whistled.

"Brock."

"Yeah?"

"You are trying to marry her."

Brock nearly swallowed his tongue.

Across the yard Bella started laughing so hard she almost fell out of her chair.

Tonya turned bright red.

Carlos held up both hands.

"What?"

"I'm just saying."

The meat itself was simple.

Deliberately simple.

A competition test.

If your cooker can't make basic meat taste amazing, fancy tricks won't save you.

Tonya had chosen pork shoulder.

Ribs.

Chicken thighs.

The seasoning was one she'd spent years refining.

She wasn't throwing random spices together.

There was purpose.

Balance.

Layers.

She explained it to Carlos while they worked.

"You want the first flavor to be savory."

She sprinkled seasoning carefully.

"Then sweet."

Another layer.

"Then a little heat."

More seasoning.

"Not enough to burn somebody. Just enough that they remember it."

Carlos nodded.

"Flavor progression."

Tonya pointed.

"Exactly."

The nearby workers looked completely lost.

One of them raised a hand.

"So..."

"Yeah?"

"Salt?"

Carlos laughed so hard he nearly dropped a tray.

Hours later smoke rolled lazily from Grillzilla.

The smell spread across the quarry.

People started wandering over.

Then more people.

Then even more.

Because good barbecue doesn't travel through the air.

It recruits.

Tonya checked bark formation.

Watched color development.

Monitored moisture.

She sounded completely different when talking barbecue.

Like Mason talking hero tactics.

Or Crumb talking cards.

This was her thing.

"Color's setting nice."

She pointed at a rack of ribs.

"See that mahogany?"

Carlos nodded.

"Good bark."

"Not done yet."

"The smoke ring?"

"We'll know after slicing."

One reporter was desperately writing notes.

He had no idea what any of it meant.

The tasting started around sunset.

Tonya sliced ribs.

The knife slid through cleanly.

Not falling apart.

Not tough.

Perfect bite.

The kind judges looked for.

Carlos immediately noticed.

"Oh."

Tonya smiled.

"Yeah."

Carlos sampled one.

Then another.

Then just stood there.

Thinking.

"That's dangerous."

"Good dangerous?"

"The best kind."

People lined up.

Workers.

Bikers.

Families.

Even Velvet appeared.

Though nobody knew where she'd been hiding.

She accepted a sample.

Examined it.

Took a bite.

Silence.

Another bite.

Silence.

Finally:

"I understand why people fight over this."

That was basically a five-star review from Velvet.

As darkness settled, everyone gathered beneath the pavilion.

Talking.

Laughing.

Eating.

Carlos was helping arrange serving trays.

That was when Tonya noticed something.

"You make everything look better."

Carlos shrugged.

"It's presentation."

He adjusted a platter.

"People eat with their eyes first."

Tonya frowned.

"See? That's the stuff I don't know."

Carlos grinned.

"That's because you're thinking like a cook."

"And?"

"You need someone thinking like a customer."

Tonya considered that.

Crumb considered that.

Brock definitely considered that.

A few minutes later Crumb leaned over.

"How much do you like running a taco truck?"

Carlos narrowed his eyes.

"That sounds dangerous."

"It might be a job offer."

Carlos nearly dropped his drink.

Then the mood shifted.

Just slightly.

Because somebody mentioned Eddie.

Not intentionally.

Just naturally.

Carlos sighed.

"You know..."

Everyone looked over.

"Eddie would've been good at this part."

Silence.

"He was?"

Katie asked.

Carlos nodded.

"He could sell anything."

A sad smile.

"Could arrange displays."

"He understood people."

Another pause.

"He just always used it wrong."

The table grew quieter.

Because that was the tragedy of Eddie.

Not useless.

Not stupid.

Not incapable.

Just always looking for shortcuts.

Always looking for angles.

Always trying to win instead of build.

Carlos shook his head.

"He called yesterday."

Immediate groans.

"What now?" Bella asked.

Carlos laughed.

"Money."

Of course.

"What happened?"

Carlos took a drink.

"Tried one of his scams in Idaho."

Everyone winced.

"Oof."

"Yeah."

"Came up snake eyes."

"What'd he do?"

Carlos shrugged.

"Doesn't matter."

"He got caught."

Another drink.

"Sounds like he's looking at real jail time."

The reactions around the table varied.

Some sympathy.

Some disappointment.

Several people looked completely unsurprised.

Velvet actually snorted.

That startled everyone.

"You're laughing?"

Crumb asked.

"No."

Another tiny smile.

"I'm appreciating consequences."

Brock looked around the pavilion.

At the people eating.

At the laughter.

At the friendships.

At Tonya standing beside Grillzilla explaining smoke management to a biker who looked like he'd discovered religion.

Then he looked at Carlos.

"You want the job?"

Carlos blinked.

"What job?"

"The barbecue thing."

Tonya looked up.

"What barbecue thing?"

Brock grinned.

"The thing you're doing now."

Carlos looked at Tonya.

Tonya looked at Carlos.

Both suddenly realized the same thing.

Kansas wasn't a fantasy anymore.

It was becoming a plan.

A team.

A real one.

And under the lights of the quarry, while smoke drifted into the Kentucky night and Grillzilla cooled for the first time, Tonya felt something she'd never really considered before.

Maybe she wasn't just feeding friends anymore.

Maybe she was building something.