Latest news with #QueenofHearts
Yahoo
11-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Yellowjackets Finally Reveals the Antler Queen and Girl in the Pit in Season 3 Finale — Grade It!
So, were they who you thought they'd be? Yellowjackets' Season 3 finale, which began streaming Friday, finally brings the teens' story to the point where we first met them: the hunt in the woods that kicked off the series' premiere. (Take a walk down cannibalistic memory lane here.) More from TVLine From ER to The Pitt: Shawn Hatosy Talks 20-Year Relationship With John Wells and Hopes for Abbot in Season 2 Grey's Recap: A Villain From Simone's Past Shakes Up Her Present - Plus, Did the Truth Set Owen Free... of Teddy? The Pitt Season 2 Premise, Time Jump and Premiere Month Confirmed - Plus, Who Is (and Is Not) Returning From the way that sequence was shot, and given that most of the girls were wearing face coverings, we couldn't see who the victim was nor who was underneath the leader's antler crown. And those identities remained a mystery — and fodder for lots of fan discussion — throughout the Paramount+ With Showtime drama's first two seasons. But this week's episode reveals that the girl who died in the hunt was Mari, who'd drawn the Queen of Hearts card, marking her as the latest sacrifice. Van and Tai had tried to rig the draw so that newbie Hannah would be picked. But Shauna, sensing that something fishy was going on, changed her place in the circle so that Mari wound up with the death card. What might throw viewers at first is that, when the hunt begins, Mari wears pants, a jacket and shoes, and the girl in the series premiere was barefoot and wearing only a short nightgown. But as the chase goes on, Mari takes off many of her layers, including her footwear; she's left in just the nightie and Jackie's necklace, which Shauna had fastened around her neck moments before. She cuts her foot as she runs, accounting for the bloody footprints. And when she accidentally steps on the camouflage hiding the pit's opening, she falls in and is impaled on several sharp stakes. Is it important that, just before she plummets to her death, she runs into Lottie? Who even knows with this show anymore? After the kill, Shauna orders Natalie to butcher their former teammate, who is dragged, naked, through the snow back to camp. And that night they all eat, while Shauna — in her new Antler Queen getup — presides over the affair. Unbeknownst to Shauna, though, Natalie has slipped away with the newly refurbished radio. She climbs to the highest point she can find and is successful in turning it on. 'Can anyone hear me?!' she screams into the microphone. 'I can hear you,' a man's voice answers through the static. Are we on the precipice of actual salvation here?! Yellowjackets Mysteries: An Up-to-Date List of the Series' Biggest Questions (and Answers?) View List Meanwhile, the adult versions of the survivors have quite an episode, as well. Tai buries Van's body, but not before ripping into it, cutting out an organ (her liver?) and taking a big, bloody bite. Misty confronts Callie about killing Lottie, and the teen confesses. Turns out, when she came to Lottie's apartment building to get Mel's tape back, Lottie led her into the stairwell and started talking about how 'It' is in the teen the same way that its darkness is in Shauna. Callie then pushed Lottie, causing her to fall backwards down the stairs to her death. After Callie tells Jeff about her part in the death, he packs her up and they leave without telling Shauna where they were going. In a rage, Shauna journals about how the reason that the survivors have had such a hard time remembering exactly what they went through out there was that they didn't want to face the fact that 'we were having so much fun.' She laments that 'I was a warrior. I was a f–king queen' and 'I let all of it slip away from me. It's time to start taking it back.' At the end of the hour, we see Tai in a restaurant, talking to someone about how Shauna is responsible for Natalie and Van's deaths, and how Shauna will be the last woman standing unless they do something about it. She asks the other person if they want that outcome. And when the camera angle changes, we see that her companion is Misty. 'No, I definitively do not,' Misty replies. Outside, Walter watches them from his car. Now it's your turn. What did you think of the episode? Grade it, and the season as a whole, via the polls below, then hit the comments with your thoughts! Best of TVLine Mrs. Maisel Flash-Forward List: All of Season 5's Futuristic Easter Eggs Yellowjackets Recap: The Morning After Yellowjackets Recap: The First Supper
The Independent
05-04-2025
- Health
- The Independent
My dad had nine lives – so why was his death still such a shock?
My dad very rarely, if ever, cried. But when he told me the story of how he collapsed in front of me when I was three, and all I did was calmly get him a pillow for his head and go and get my mum, his eyes would glisten slightly. I didn't remember this event, but I could well believe it, and when I think back now, three was probably about the age when I first understood that my dad was going to die. By the time I was born, he'd already had a motorbike accident, a car accident, a career-ending football injury that led to his most severe illness – chronic osteomyelitis – and more than a dozen surgeries, including a tumour removal when my sister was six weeks old. He took dozens of tablets, was in and out of every hospital in the region, and struggled severely with his mental health. When I was seven, Dad was paralysed after a surgery went awry. My mother worked, solo-parented and visited him on the other side of London to our Essex home. When she took us to see him, he sent us away after 10 minutes because he was so abundantly ill. He didn't want to die in front of his children. However, he didn't die, and, in time, he regained use of the leg and came home. He even returned to work. The next decade was hard. My dad's illnesses were so severe, his hospital visits so unjustifiably frequent, that after a while, people at school stopped believing me. Surely, if he was that ill, he would die. I called home on lunch breaks sometimes just to check he was still there, or had got off to work okay. If my phone ever rang, I jumped out of my skin to answer it in a panic. No one else I knew had an ill parent so perilously close to death. They either got ill and recovered or got ill and died. My dad didn't seem to do either. I had no one to relate to, no one outside my family who could understand. One day, on my way home from school, there was an ambulance outside our house. My sister and I shut ourselves in the lounge, but it didn't shield us from the sound of Dad screaming as the paramedics carried him down the stairs. They tracked an infection from his foot as it steadily gained pace towards his femoral artery. It didn't make it. But he did. Dad underwent a surgery at the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital – by the mid-2000s, it had become his home from home – in which the fluid surrounding his brain was accidentally drained. To say it gave him a headache would be a massive understatement. He was in critical condition, as critical as it gets. While I was studying for my A-Levels, Dad had a triple heart bypass that went badly. He was in so much pain that doctors told us he was at high risk for a stroke or a heart attack. The likelihood was he wouldn't survive whichever he had. In the end, he had neither. He miraculously recovered and came home. I duly went to university. Dad's fragility plagued but also inspired me – I wrote top-mark exam essays on father and daughter relationships in Shakespeare and a short story about the Queen of Hearts becoming so on the day her father died. When I trained as a journalist, I had a particular interest in Paralympic sports and wrote about my experiences as a carer. In 2011, a planned two-hour surgery turned into a seven-hour ordeal so traumatic that the surgeon took a sabbatical afterwards. The defibrillators came out, and Dad told me he remembered hearing the doctors arguing about whether using it was even worth it, as he was 'already gone.' But he wasn't. He recovered again. By my twenties, I was a nervous wreck who needed at least five to seven business hours to recover from an unplanned phone call. The surgeries and hospital visits continued. I left work on occasion to sit with him at A&E. By my early thirties, other people started losing their hitherto very healthy parents. An old school friend lost his dad a mere six weeks after diagnosis. The feelings it stirred in me were complex – was I jealous? Not of their loss, but of the speed of which their ordeal took hold and completed? Yes, I suppose I was. The fear and the anguish were exhausting. I had treatment for a fatigue that no doctor found the root cause for. In 2022, when my daughter was three months old, Dad developed sepsis and spent nine weeks in the hospital, including a brief stint in an end-of-life ward. It weakened him severely, but he made it once again. I wondered if anything was ever going to kill him. We joked in the family that after decades of torment, he'd outlive every one of us. After twenty years of my jumping for the phone, Mum didn't call when the time came, but sent a text. 'Dad isn't going to make it. If you don't want to come, I understand.' I held his hand when he took his last breath. He was ready; I wasn't. I was 33. 'Mister Nine Lives,' I wrote on Facebook. 'Foiled at last.' What shocked me most about the reactions to Dad's death was people's surprise. Colin? No. It cannot be. In turn, I was surprised by their surprise, given that he was the sickest man any of us knew. I realised then how we'd all taken his repeated recoveries for granted. Despite the constant dread, it seemed none of us had believed he really would ever die, and we didn't know until it happened. Exactly six months to the day of Dad's death, my mother's dear friend lost her husband to a heart attack in the middle of the night. The shock all but killed her too, and their kids. His funeral was held in the same place as my dad's, and when I saw them all at the wake, I realised to my shame that, of course, they were just like us. They looked as we had looked. They spoke as we had spoken.
Yahoo
20-03-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Winner gets $150k in local Queen of Hearts drawing
BOARDMAN, Ohio (WKBN) – There was a winner in Wednesday's Queen of Hearts drawing at Boardman's Steel Valley Brew Works. However, because the person was not present, they won only half the $300,000 pot. The winner asked not to be identified. They will, however, win $150, 823. If the person would have been present they would have 90 percent of the pot or $271, number drawn was 21 — behind which was the Queen of Hearts. That all means the next 54 card board, which starts next Wednesday at 8:30, will start at $150,823.A crowd of 700 people attended Wednesday's drawing. There were 300 people in the parking lot. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yahoo
13-03-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
No winner yet for large jackpot in Queen of Hearts drawing
BOARDMAN, Ohio (WKBN) – Once again there was no winner Wednesday night in the Queen of Hearts drawing at Steel Valley Brew Works at the Southern Park Mall. The jackpot was $244,680 and will continue to grow for next Wednesday's 8:30 p.m. drawing. The number pulled Wednesday was 25 — which was the five of spades. There are seven cards left. About 500 people were at the drawing. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
New York Times
01-03-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Yellowjackets' Season 3, Episode 4 Recap: Judge, Jury and …
Season 3, Episode 4: '12 Angry Girls and 1 Drunk Travis' What does justice look like to the Yellowjackets? It's not pretty, it's not logical, it's often deeply unfair, and it's all on display in this week's episode. The centerpiece is a trial in the woods in the 1990s. The girls, having now found Ben, elect to decide his fate by mimicking an episode 'Law & Order.' They choose lawyers — Tai is the prosecutor and Misty is the defense — and fashion a makeshift courtroom. It's unclear what they plan to do with Ben if they find him guilty, but death is surely on the table. And yet, they also seem like kids playing dress up — which they are. As is familiar for 'Yellowjackets,' childlike behavior and real stakes make for a potent concoction. We watch as the Yellowjackets' warped sense of justice extends into the present day. There are two threads that emphasize that. First, there is Jeff and Shauna. Jeff is worried about his and Shauna's massively bad karma, so he signs them up to volunteer at the senior home where Misty works. That becomes too emotionally intense for Shauna after she winds up locked inside a walk-in freezer, so she decides to replace a local cat that has been missing for years by just adopting a different cat. Sure, that will work. And then there's Tai and Van, who find themselves wondering whether they should be the arbiters of life and death. They drop a Queen of Hearts from a deck of playing cards on the ground to see if it 'chooses' anyone. When a man picks it up, they follow him back to his apartment and Tai nearly makes moves to kill him, thinking that taking his life will give the cancer ridden Van more time. Van stops Tai from going that far, but the mere fact that the possibility was on the table is evidence of how much all this Wilderness woo-woo has affected their minds. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
