Production and Operation Management - 890 Words

Being in the right location is a key ingredient in a business s success. If a company selects the wrong location, it may have adequate access to customers, workers, transportation, materials, and so on. Consequently, location often plays a significant role in a company s profit and overall success. A location strategy is a plan for obtaining the optimal location for a company by identifying company needs and objectives, and searching for locations with offerings that are compatible with these needs and objectives. Generally, this means the firm will attempt to maximize opportunity while minimizing costs and risks. A company s location strategy should conform with, and be part of, its overall corporate strategy. Hence, if a company†¦show more content†¦6. Trade zones. Companies may want to consider the benefits offered by free-trade zones, which are closed facilities monitored by customs service’s where goods can be brought without the usual customs requirements. The United States has about 170 free-trade zones and other countries have them as well. 7. Political risk. Companies considering expanding into other countries must take political risk into consideration when developing a location strategy. Since some countries have unstable political environments, companies must be prepared for upheaval and turmoil if they plan long-term operations in such countries. 8. Governmental regulation. Companies also may face government barriers and heavy restrictions and regulation if they intend to expand into other countries. Therefore, companies must examine governmental—as well as cultural—obstacles in other countries when developing location strategies. 9. Environmental regulation. Companies should consider the various environmental regulations that might affect their operations in different locations. Environmental regulation also may have an impact on the relationship between a company and the community around a prospective location. 10. Incentives. Incentive negotiation is the process by which a company and a community negotiate property and any benefits the company will receive, such as tax breaks. Incentives may place a significant role in a company s selection of a site. Depending onShow MoreRelatedProduction And Operations Management : Production Management Essay941 Words   |  4 Pagesused in the production/operations subsystem of the organization into value added product/services in a controlled manner as per the policies of the organization, is the definition of Production/operations management. Consequently, it is that part of an organization, this part is involved in the transformation of a range of inputs, like men, material, machines, information and capital, into the required (products/services), with the requisite quality level. The group of correlated management activitiesRead MoreProduction Of Production And Operation Management1415 Words   |  6 PagesPRODUCTION OPERATION MANAGEMENT The focus of any business is to provide needs of customer by providing military and supplies, and in this procedure generate value for customers and solve their trouble. Production and operations management talks about applying big business association and management concepts in formation of supplies and military (1). PRODUCT: A product is defined as the thing offered for deal. A product can be a facility or an item. It can be material or in virtual form. Every productRead Moreproduction and operation management1377 Words   |  6 PagesPaper of Production and Operations Management IIBM Institute of Business Management Examination Paper Production and Operations Management Subject Code-B107 ï‚ · ï‚ · ï‚ · MM.100 Section A: Objective Type Short Questions (30 marks) This section consists of multiple choice Short Notes type questions. Answer all the questions. Part one questions carry 1 mark each Part two questions carry 5 marks each. Part One: Multiple choices: 1. Production and Operations Management concernsRead MoreProduction and Operation Management864 Words   |  4 PagesProduction and Operation Management Cheng Guoping Chapter 1 Introduction 1. Production System 2. Production and operations in the organization 3. Function and jobs of POM 4. Decision Making in POM 5. The emergence of production and operation management 1. Production System Production and operation management (POM) is the management of an organization s production system, which converts input into the organization s products and services. 1.1 Production system model Inputs Read MoreProduction and Operations Management1511 Words   |  7 PagesBBA – 305 PRODUCTION OPERATION MANAGEMENT Model Questions based on Previous years Question Papers UNIT – I Qs. 1 : Explain the importance of Production Operation Management in current scenario. 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(i) For a Consumer: The product is a combination of or optimalRead MoreProductions and Operations Management737 Words   |  3 PagesProductions and Operations Management I The three categories of statistical quality control The three categories of SQC include the traditional statistical tools, acceptance sampling, and statistical process control (SPC). Traditional statistical tools are descriptive statistics like the mean and range, used to describe qualitative characteristics. Acceptance sampling is a process of taking a random sample or portion of a batch and deciding whether to accept or reject the whole batch. SPC is aRead MoreOperations Management : Production Management1657 Words   |  7 Pages Operations management is the art of knowledge that ensures that services and goods are produced and distributed successfully to customers. Operations management key objective is maximize efficiency while producing and effectively fulfilling customer needs. In this novel the operations management team is struggling to make this plant a profitable plant so it will not be shut down. Alex is wondering why is that he cannot produce quality products and respond to customer needs at a faster pace considerablyRea d MoreProduction Operation Management1195 Words   |  5 PagesProduction Operations Management Session 3-2 More on Processes 1 Outline ï‚ § Multi-product, multi-flow process analysis – So far: 1 product, 1 flow – Differing process times, yield issues, machine breakdown ï‚ § Big Takeaway: – Product-mix becomes critical in multiple flows – Implications in capital investment, scaling business, and risk management ï‚ § Calculating capacity when you have – Multiple flows †¢ With the same processing time at each resource †¢ With different processingRead MoreProduction and Operation Management890 Words   |  4 Pagesif they plan long-term operations in such countries. 8. Governmental regulation. Companies also may face government barriers and heavy restrictions and regulation if they intend to expand into other countries. Therefore, companies must examine governmental—as well as cultural—obstacles in other countries when developing location strategies. 9. Environmental regulation. Companies should consider the various  environmental regulations  that might affect their operations in different locations

Bloodsucking Fiends A Love Story Chapter 13~14 Free Essays

string(108) " I have a little money now, if you need†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The Emperor held up the bill the woman had given him\." Chapter 13 To-Do List of the Fashionably Doomed When you know the future is grim, there is no need for speed. Tommy decided to walk to the financial district. He shuffled along with the hang-dog look of the cosmically fucked. We will write a custom essay sample on Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story Chapter 13~14 or any similar topic only for you Order Now He walked through Chinatown, spotted three of the Wongs buying lottery tickets at a liquor store, and headed up to the room to get his typewriter and clothes before they returned. His spirits lifted a little when he climbed down the narrow stairway for the last time, but Madame Natasha’s words came back to dump on him again: â€Å"I don’t see a woman in your near future.† It had been one of the reasons he had come to San Francisco – to find a girlfriend. Someone who would see him as an artist. Not like the girls back home, who saw him as a bookish freak. It was all part of the plan: live in the City, write stories, look at the bridge, ride cable cars, eat Rice-A-Roni, and have a girlfriend – someone he could tell his thoughts to, preferably after hours of godlike sex. He wasn’t looking for perfection, just someone who made him feel secure enough to be insecure around. But not now. Now he was doomed. He looked up at the skyline and realized that he had navigated wrong, arriving in the financial district, several blocks from the Pyramid. He zigzagged from block to block, avoiding eye contact with the men and women in business suits, who avoided eye contact in turn by checking their watches every few steps. Sure, he thought, they can check their watches. They have a future. He arrived at the foot of the Pyramid a little breathless, his arms aching from carrying his belongings. He sat on a concrete bench at the edge of a fountain and watched people for a while. They were all so determined. They had places to go, people to see. Their hair was perfect. They smelled good. They wore nice shoes. He looked at his own worn leather sneakers. Fucked. Someone sat down next to him on the bench and he avoided looking up, thinking that it would just be another person who would make him feel inferior. He was staring at a spot on the concrete by his feet when a Boston terrier appeared on the spot and blew a jet stream of dog snot on his pant leg. â€Å"Bummer, that’s rude,† the Emperor said. â€Å"Can’t you see that our friend is sulking?† Tommy looked up into the face of the Emperor. â€Å"Your Highness. Hello.† The man had the wildest eyebrows Tommy had ever seen, as if two gray porcupines were perched on his brow. The Emperor tipped his crown, a fedora made of panels cut from beer cans and laced together with yellow yarn. â€Å"Did you get the job?† â€Å"Yes, they hired me that day. Thanks for the tip.† â€Å"It’s honest work,† the Emperor said. â€Å"There’s a certain grace in that. Not like this tragedy.† â€Å"What tragedy?† â€Å"These poor souls. These poor pathetic souls.† The Emperor gestured toward the passersby. â€Å"I don’t understand,† Tommy said. â€Å"Their time has passed and they don’t know what to do. They were told what they wanted and they believed it. They can only keep their dream alive by being with others like themselves who will mirror their illusions.† â€Å"They have really nice shoes,† Tommy said. â€Å"They have to look right or their peers will turn on them like starving dogs. They are the fallen gods. The new gods are producers, creators, doers. The new gods are the chinless techno-children who would rather eat white sugar and watch science-fiction films than worry about what shoes they wear. And these poor souls desperately push papers around hoping that a mystical message will appear to save them from the new, awkward, brilliant gods and their silicon-chip reality. Some of them will survive, of course, but most will fall. Uncreative thinking is done better by machines. Poor souls, you can almost hear them sweating.† Tommy looked at the well-dressed stream of business people, then at the Emperor’s tattered overcoat, then at his own sneakers, then at the Emperor again. For some reason, he felt better than he had a few minutes before. â€Å"You really worry about these people, don’t you?† â€Å"It is my lot.† An attractive woman in a gray suit and heels approached the Emperor and handed him a five-dollar bill. She wore a silk camisole under her jacket and Tommy could make out the top of her lace bra when she bent over. He was mesmerized. â€Å"Your Highness,† she said, â€Å"there’s a Chinese chicken salad on special at the Cafe Suisse today. I think Bummer and Lazarus would love it.† Lazarus wagged his tail. Bummer yapped at the mention of his name. â€Å"Very thoughtful of you, my child. The men will enjoy it.† â€Å"Have a good day,† she said, and walked away. Tommy watched her calves as she went. Two men who were passing by, embroiled in an argument about prices and earnings, stopped their conversation and nodded to the Emperor. â€Å"Go with God,† the Emperor said. He turned back to Tommy. â€Å"Are you still looking for a domicile, or just a woman now?† â€Å"I don’t understand.† â€Å"You wear your loneliness like a badge.† Tommy felt as if his ego had just taken a right to the jaw. â€Å"Actually, I met a girl and I’m going to rent us a place this afternoon.† â€Å"My mistake,† the Emperor said. â€Å"I misread you.† â€Å"No, you didn’t. I’m fucked.† â€Å"Pardon?† â€Å"A fortune-teller told me that there was no woman in my future.† â€Å"Madame Natasha?† â€Å"How did you know?† â€Å"You mustn’t give too much credence to Madame Natasha’s predictions. He’s dying and it darkens his vision. The plague.† â€Å"I’m sorry,† Tommy said. In fact, he felt relieved, then guilty for the reason behind it. He had no right to feel sorry for himself. The Emperor had nothing except his dogs, yet his sympathy was all directed toward his fellowman. I’m scum, Tommy thought. He said, â€Å"Your Highness, I have a little money now, if you need†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The Emperor held up the bill the woman had given him. â€Å"We have all that we need, my son.† He stood and tugged on the ropes that held Bummer and Lazarus. â€Å"And I should be off before the men revolt from hunger.† â€Å"Me, too, I guess.† Tommy stood and made as if to shake hands, then bowed instead. â€Å"Thanks for the company.† The Emperor winked, spun on one heel, and started to lead his troops away, then stopped and turned back. â€Å"And, son, don’t touch anything with an edge while you’re in the building? Scissors, letter openers, anything.† â€Å"Why?† Tommy asked. â€Å"It’s the shape of the building, a pyramid. They’d rather people not know about it, but they have a full-time employee who just goes around dulling the letter openers.† â€Å"You’re kidding.† â€Å"Safety first,† the Emperor said. â€Å"Thanks.† Tommy took a deep breath and steeled himself for his assault on the Pyramid. As he walked out of the sun and under the massive concrete buttresses, he could feel a chill through his flannel shirt, as if the concrete had stored the damp cold of the night fog and was radiating it like a refrigerator coil. He was shivering by the time he reached the information desk. A guard eyed him suspiciously. â€Å"Can I help you?† â€Å"I’m looking for the Transamerica personnel department.† The guard made a face as if Tommy had been dipped in sewage. â€Å"Do you have an appointment?† â€Å"Yes.† Tommy waved Jody’s papers under the guard’s nose. The guard picked up a phone and was punching numbers when a second guard came up behind him and took the receiver. â€Å"He’s fine,† the second guard said. â€Å"Send him up.† â€Å"But – â€Å" â€Å"He’s a friend of the Emperor.† The first guard hung up the phone and said, â€Å"Twenty-first floor, sir.† He pointed to the elevators. Tommy took an elevator to the twenty-first floor, then followed the signs until he found the right department. An officious-looking older woman told him to have a seat in the reception room, she would be right with him. Then she took great pains to act as if he had been sucked off the planet. Tommy sat on a black leather sofa that sighed with his weight, chose a magazine from the black stone coffee table, and waited. During the next hour he read a household-hints column (â€Å"Coffee grounds in that cat box will fill your house with the delightful aroma of brewing espresso every time kitty heeds the call†); an article on computer junkies (â€Å"Bruce has been off the mouse for six months now, but he says he takes life one byte at a time†); and a review of the new musical Jonestown! (â€Å"Andrew Lloyd Webber’s version of the Kool-Aid jingle is at once chilling and evocative. Donny Osmond is brilliant as Jim Jones.†) He borrowed some whiteout from the officious-looking woman and touched up the finish on his sneakers, then dried them under a halogen reading light that looked like a robot’s arm holding the sun. When he started pulling cologne sample cards out of GQ and rubbing them on his socks, the woman told him he could go on in. He picked up his shoes and walked into the office in his stocking feet. Another officious-looking woman, who looked remarkably like the first officious-looking woman, down to the little chain on her reading glasses, had him sit down across from her while she looked at Jody’s papers and ignored him. She consulted a computer screen, tapped on a few keys, then waited while the computer did something. Tommy put his shoes on and waited. She didn’t look up. He cleared his throat. She tapped on the keys. He reached down, opened his suitcase, and took out his portable typewriter. She didn’t look up. She tapped and looked at the screen. He opened the typewriter case, rolled a piece of paper in the machine, and tapped on a few keys. She looked up. He tapped a few more keys. â€Å"What are you doing?† she asked. Tommy tapped. He didn’t look up. The woman raised her voice. â€Å"I said, what are you doing?† Tommy kept typing and looked up. â€Å"Pardon me, I was ignoring you. What did you say?† â€Å"What are you doing?† She repeated. â€Å"It’s a note. Let me read it for you. ‘Couldn’t anyone else see that they were all slaves of Satan? I had to cleanse the world of their evil. I am the hand of God. Why else would security have let me into the building with an assault rifle in my suitcase? I am a divine instrument. † Tommy paused and looked up. â€Å"That’s all I have so far, but I’ll guess I end it with an apology to my mom. What do you think?† She smiled as if hiding gas pains and handed him an envelope. â€Å"This is Jody’s final paycheck. Give her our best. And you have a nice day now, young man.† â€Å"You too,† Tommy said. He gathered up his stuff and left the office whistling. Fashionable SOMA looked to Tommy an awful lot like a light industrial area: two- and three-story buildings with steel roll-up doors and steel-framed windows. The bottom floors housed ethnic restaurants, underground dance clubs, auto-repair shops, and the occasional foundry. Tommy paused outside of one to watch two long-haired men pouring bronze into a mold. Artists, Tommy thought. He had never seen a real artist, and although these guys looked more like bikers, he wanted to talk to them. He took a tentative step through the doorway. â€Å"Hi,† he said. The men were wrestling with a huge ladle, the two of them gripping the long metal handle with asbestos gloves. One looked up. â€Å"Out!† he said. Tommy said, â€Å"Okay, I can see you guys are busy. ‘Bye.† He stood on the sidewalk and checked his map. He was supposed to meet the rental agent somewhere around here. He looked up and down the street. Except for a guy passed out on the corner, the street was empty. Tommy was thinking about waking the guy up and asking him if this was, indeed, the fashionable part of SOMA, when a green Jeep pulled up beside him and skidded to a stop. The driver, a woman in her forties with wild gray hair, rolled down the window. â€Å"Mr. Flood?† She said. Tommy nodded. â€Å"I’m Alicia DeVries. Let me park and I’ll show you the loft.† She backed the Jeep into a spot that seemed too short for it by six inches, running the wheels up over the curb, then she jumped out, dragging after her a purse roughly the size of Tommy’s suitcase. She wore sandals, a dashiki, and multicolored Guatemalan cotton pants. There were chopsticks stuck here and there in her hair, as if she were prepared at any minute to deal with an emergency stir-fry. She looked at Tommy’s suitcase. â€Å"You look like you’re ready to move in today. This way.† She breezed by Tommy to a fire door beside the foundry. Tommy could smell the patchouli in her wake. She said, â€Å"This area is just like Soho was twenty years ago. You’re lucky to have a shot at one of these lofts now, before they go co-op and start selling for a million dollars.† She unlocked the door and started up the steps. â€Å"This place has incredible energy,† she said, without looking back. â€Å"I’d love to live here myself, except the market’s down right now and I’d have to sell my place in the Heights.† Tommy dragged his suitcase up the steps after her. â€Å"Do you paint, Mr. Flood?† â€Å"I’m a writer.† â€Å"Oh, a writer! I do a little writing myself. I’d like to write a book myself some weekend, if I can find the time. Something about female circumcision, I think. Maybe something about marriage. But what’s the difference, right?† She stopped at a landing at the top of the stairs and unlocked another fire door. â€Å"Here it is.† She threw the door open and gestured for Tommy to enter. â€Å"A nice work area and a bedroom in the back. There are two sculptors that work downstairs and a painter next door. A writer would really round the building out. What’s your take on female circumcision, Mr. Flood?† Tommy was still about three topics behind her, so he stood on the landing while his brain caught up. People like Alicia were the reason God made decaf. â€Å"I think everyone should have a hobby,† he said, taking a shot in the dark. Alicia jammed like an overheated machine gun. She seemed to look at him for the first time, and did not seem to like what she saw. â€Å"You are aware that we’ll need a significant security deposit, if your application is accepted?† â€Å"Okay,† Tommy said. He entered the loft, leaving her standing on the landing. The loft was roughly the size of a handball court. It had an island kitchen in the middle, and windows ran along one wall from floor to ceiling. There was an old rug, a futon, and a low plastic coffee table in the open area near the kitchen. The back wall was lined with empty bookshelves, broken only by a single door to the bedroom. The bookshelves did it. Tommy wanted to live here. He could see the shelves filled with Kerouac, and Kesey, and Hammett, and Ginsberg, and Twain, and London, and Bierce, and every other writer who had lived and written in the City. One shelf would be for the books he was going to write: hardbacks in thirty languages. There would be a bust of Beethoven on that shelf. He didn’t really like Beethoven, but he thought he should have a bust of him. He resisted the urge to shout, â€Å"I’ll take it!† It was Jody’s money. He had to check the bedroom for windows. He opened the door and went in. The room was as dark as a cave. He flipped the light switch and track lighting along one wall came on. There was an old mattress and box springs on the floor. The walls were bare brick. No windows. Through another door was a bathroom with a freestanding sink and a huge claw-foot tub that was stained with rust and paint. No windows. He was so excited, he thought he would wet himself. He ran out into the main living area where Alicia was standing with her hand on her hip, mentally shoving him into the pigeonhole of abusive barbarism she had made for him. â€Å"I’ll take it,† Tommy said. â€Å"You’ll have to fill out an – â€Å" â€Å"I’ll give you four thousand dollars in cash, right now.† He pulled the wad of bills out of his jeans. â€Å"How many keys will you need?† Chapter 14 Two Losts Do Not Make a Found Consciousness went off like a flashbulb of pain: a dull ache in her head, sharp daggers in her knees and her chin. Jody was slumped in the shower. The water was still running – had been running on her all day. She crawled out of the shower stall on her hands and knees and pulled towels out of the rack. She sat on the bathroom floor and dried herself, blotting away the water with rough terry cloth. Her skin felt tender, almost raw. The towels were damp from fourteen hours of steam. The ceiling dripped and the walls ran with condensation. She braced herself against the sink and climbed to her feet, then opened the door and stumbled through the room to the bed. Be careful what you ask for, she thought. All the regret about waking up a little too alert, coming out of sleep like a gunshot, came back on her. She hadn’t thought about falling asleep in the same way. She must have been in the shower at sunup, dropped to the shower floor, and stayed there throughout the day. She sat up on the bed and gently touched her chin. Pain shot up her jaw. She must have hit it on the soap dish when she went out. Her knees were bruised as well. Bruised? Something was wrong. She jumped to her feet and went to the dresser. She turned on the light and leaned into the mirror, then yelped. Her chin was bruised blue, with a corona of yellow. Her hair was hopelessly tangled and she now had a small bald spot where the water had worn away at her scalp. She backed away and sat back on the bed, stunned. Something was wrong, seriously wrong, beyond her injuries. It was the light. Why had she turned on the light? The night before she would have been able to see herself in the mirror by the light filtering in under the bathroom door. But it was more than that. It was a tightness in her mouth, pressure, like when she had first gotten braces as a child. She ran her tongue over her teeth and felt the points breaking through the roof of her mouth just behind her eyeteeth. She thought, I’m breaking down from lack of†¦ She couldn’t even make herself think it. This will get worse. Much worse. Now she could feel the hunger, not in her stomach, but in her entire body, as if her veins were going to collapse on themselves. And there was a tension in her muscles, as if piano strings were tightening inside her body, sharpening her movements, making her feel as if she would jump through a window any second. I’ve got to calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. She repeated the mantra to herself as she got up and walked to the phone. It seemed to take an incredible effort to push the zero button and wait for the desk clerk to come on. â€Å"Hi, this is room two-ten. Is there a guy in the lobby waiting? Yes, that’s him. Would you tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes?† She put down the phone and went to the bathroom, where she turned off the shower and wiped down the mirror. She looked at herself in the mirror and fought the urge to burst into tears. This is a project, she thought. She turned her head and looked at her bald spot. It was small enough that she could cover it with a new part held by a couple of hairpins. Her bruised chin might require some explaining. She started to run her fingers though her hair to facilitate the preliminary untangle, fighting the tension in her arms that seemed to be increasing every second. A large moth buzzed into the bathroom and went for the light above the mirror. Before she knew what had happened, she snatched it out of the air and ate it. She stared at her reflection and was horrified by the red-haired stranger who had just eaten a moth. Even so, a warmth ran though her like good brandy. The bruise on her chin faded as she watched. The first thing she saw when she turned the corner at the lobby was Tommy’s grin. â€Å"Good,† he said. â€Å"You’re dressed for moving. I like your hair pinned up like that.† Jody smiled, and stood awkwardly in front of him, thinking she should greet him with a hug, but afraid to get too close to him. She could smell him and he smelled like food. â€Å"You found a place?† â€Å"An incredible loft, south of Market. It’s even furnished.† He seemed as if he would burst with excitement. â€Å"I used all the money; I hope that’s okay.† â€Å"Fine,† Jody said. She just wanted to get him alone. â€Å"Get your stuff,† he said. â€Å"I want to show it to you.† Jody nodded. â€Å"I’ll be just a minute. Have the desk clerk call a cab.† She turned to leave. Tommy caught her by the arm. â€Å"Hey, are you okay?† She motioned for him to move within whisper range. â€Å"I want you so badly I can hardly stand it.† She pulled away and ran up the steps to her room. Inside she gathered what few belongings she had and checked herself in the mirror one last time. She was wearing jeans and the chambray blouse from the night before. She unbuttoned her blouse and did a straitjacket escape from her bra, then buttoned the blouse halfway up. She stuffed the bra into her day pack and locked the room for the last time. When she returned to the lobby, Tommy was waiting outside by a blue DeSoto cab. He opened the door for her, climbed in, and gave the driver the address. â€Å"You’re going to love it,† he said. â€Å"I know you are.† She moved closer to him and held his arm tightly between her breasts. â€Å"I can’t wait,† she said. A tiny voice in her head asked, What are you doing? What are you going to do to him? It was so faint and foreign that it might have come from someone outside on the street. Tommy pulled away from her and dug into his jeans pocket, coming out with an envelope. â€Å"Your check’s in here. I didn’t open it.† She took it and put it in her day pack, then moved on him again. He scooted to the door and nodded toward the driver, who was watching them in the rearview mirror. â€Å"Forget him,† Jody whispered. She licked Tommy neck and shuddered with the taste and warmth of his flesh. â€Å"I couldn’t get your car out of impound. It has to be the owner.† â€Å"Doesn’t matter,† she said, nuzzling into the space under his jaw. The cab stopped and the driver turned to them. â€Å"Six-ten,† he said. Jody threw a twenty over the seat, reached over Tommy and opened the door, dived out and dragged him out of the cab after her. â€Å"Where is it?† Tommy just had time to point to the door before she pushed him at it. She climbed on his back as he unlocked the door, then bolted past him and dragged him up the steps. â€Å"You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?† he asked. â€Å"It’s great.† She stopped at the fire door at the top of the stairs. â€Å"Open it,† she commanded. Tommy unlocked the door and threw it open. â€Å"This is it!† She went through, catching the front of his shirt and pulling him in. â€Å"Look at all these bookshelves,† he said. She ripped his shirt off and kissed him hard. He pulled up for air and said, â€Å"The bedroom doesn’t have any windows, just like you wanted.† â€Å"Where?† she demanded. He pointed to the open door and she pushed him through it. He fell face down on the bare mattress. She flipped him over, hooked her hands into the waist of his jeans and ripped them off him. â€Å"So you like it?† he asked. She ripped her shirt open and held him to the bed, one hand on his chest while she took off her own jeans. She climbed on him and muffled his next question with a kiss. He finally got the message and returned her kiss and tried to match her urgency, then didn’t have to try at all. She pulled away from the kiss as her fangs unsheathed, then guided him into her as he moaned. Jody growled deep in her chest, pushed his head to the side and bit him on the neck. â€Å"Ouch!† Tommy shouted. She held him down and snarled into his neck. Dust from the old mattress filled the air and was stirred by the movement of their bodies. â€Å"Oh jeez!† Tommy shouted, digging his fingers into her bottom. Jody answered him with a catlike scream as she came, then fell on his chest and licked the blood that dribbled from the punctures on his neck. She twitched and shuddered while he repeated, â€Å"Oh jeez,† over and over again between gasps. After a few minutes she rolled off him and lay on the bed feeling the warm nourishment running though her. Tommy rubbed his neck. â€Å"That was great,† he said. â€Å"That was incredible. You are – â€Å" Jody rolled over. â€Å"Tommy, I have to tell you something.† â€Å"You’re beautiful,† he said. Jody smiled at him. The urgency was gone now and she was feeling guilty. I could have killed him, she thought. Tommy reached over and touched her lips. â€Å"What’s that on your teeth? Did you hurt yourself?† â€Å"It’s blood, Tommy. It’s your blood.† He felt his neck again, which was completely healed. â€Å"My blood?† â€Å"Tommy, I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never been that way before.† â€Å"Me either. It was great!† â€Å"I’m a vampire.† â€Å"That’s okay,† Tommy said. â€Å"I knew this girl in high school who gave me a hickey that covered the whole side of my neck.† â€Å"No, Tommy. I’m really a vampire.† She looked him in the eye and did not smile or look away. She waited. He said, â€Å"Don’t goof on me, okay?† â€Å"Tommy, have you ever seen anyone tear a pair of jeans like that before?† â€Å"That was my animal attraction, right?† Jody got out of bed, went to the bedroom door and closed it, shutting out the light from the living area. â€Å"Can you see anything?† â€Å"No,† he said. â€Å"Hold up a number of fingers. Don’t tell me how many.† He did. â€Å"Three,† Jody said. â€Å"Try again.† He did. â€Å"Seven.† â€Å"Jeez,† he said. â€Å"Are you psychic?† She opened the door. Light spilled in. â€Å"You have an incredible body,† Tommy said. â€Å"Thanks. I need to lose five pounds.† â€Å"Let’s do it again, without our shoes on this time.† â€Å"Tommy, you have to listen to me. This is important. I’m not kidding you. I am a vampire.† â€Å"C’mon, Jody, come over here. I’ll take your shoes off for you.† Jody looked up at the ceiling. There were open steel beams twenty feet above. â€Å"Watch.† She jumped up and grabbed on to a beam and hung. â€Å"See?† â€Å"Jeez,† Tommy said. â€Å"Do you have a book here?† â€Å"In my suitcase.† â€Å"Go get it.† â€Å"Be careful. You could fall.† â€Å"Get the book, Tommy.† Tommy went into the living area, looking up at her as he walked under. He returned with a volume of Kerouac. â€Å"Now what? Come down from there. You’re making me nervous.† â€Å"Close the door and open the book.† He closed the door and the room went dark again. Jody read a half page aloud before he opened the door again. â€Å"Jeez,† he said. She let go of the beam and dropped to the floor. Tommy backed away from her to the bed and sat down. â€Å"If you want to leave, I’ll understand,† she said. â€Å"When we were making love†¦ you were cold inside.† â€Å"Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you.† Tommy’s eyes were wide. â€Å"You really are a vampire, aren’t you?† â€Å"I’m sorry. I needed help. I needed someone.† â€Å"You really are a vampire.† It was a statement this time. â€Å"Yes, Tommy. I am.† He paused for a second to think, then said, â€Å"That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. Let’s do it with our shoes off.† How to cite Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story Chapter 13~14, Essay examples

Chace Final Draft free essay sample

He discusses the decrease of funding, cheating n campus, the urge to succeeds, and the moral offensiveness of cheating, College cost are very high and there is too little financial aid that are available. Tuition cost discourages so many students from apply to a university or college. President Obama at the latest State of Union Address said So let me put colleges and universities on notices. If you cant stop tuition from going up, the funding you get from taxpayers will go down. Higher education cant be a luxuryit is an economic imperative that every family in America should be able to afford. (CTD. In Chase 165). Chase poses the question What can they doamid financial pressure, dwindling public esteem, pre-professional anxieties on the part of their students, and eroded faulty loyalty-?to recover the prestige they once enjoyed? He continues to write One answer, I believe, rests in what they can do, and must do, about a large and ugly presence on almost every campus: academic dishonesty. We will write a custom essay sample on Chace Final Draft or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page (166). Every student sooner or later will have the task of writing an essay.There are many rule in writing an essay but the ground rules are not: be clear, employ the rules of logic, and Nintendo, be original (167). But is there no such things as originality (173). Chance argues that everything we write down has been written before but in a different way. That we as a species had endlessly use and reuse, forever recycling the logic and words. Chase argues that student-regulated honor codes are perhaps the only effective way to promote academic honesty and combat a culture in which cheating is increasingly acceptable.A study taken place in 1964 found that 75% of students engaged in some type of cheating/ academic dishonesty. Behind every cheating theres a motive; peer pressure, stress, and laziness. Throughout all the cheating some people may get caught while others go untouched, but in a court of law, cheating at school is only moral and ethical wrong. Chase quotes the saying the only person hurt by cheating is the cheater. (169). But in reality it is true, if a student is accused of academic dishonesty there will be facing serious consequences.A fair warning may be one but most of the time students would fail the class or get expelled from the college or university. It is the professors obligation to report if a student is being academically dishonest. Chase champions the colleges and universities with deeply embedded honor codes.