Is That the Jewish Way?

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    considering the fact that I have spoken to boys most of my life, most of those things are obvious, and since I live in a place with four distinct seasons, the fashion stuff is obvious as well.


    They actually have a really good Ongoing story! Why don’t we have a YWN Ongoing story???? I volunteer to start it!

    Shmuel stepped outside to get some fresh air. He just couldn’t handle the pressure. He thought back to when his kids were younger, those were the days, he thought to himself as he strolled down 12th Ave, no worries, enough money to pay the bills, no rebellious kids, but alas all good things have to come to an end .

    Shmuel thought back to his conversation last night with Rivky, “it just doesn’t make sense for us to look for a learning boy for you”, Shmuel had said, “you know I can’t support, and besides with Reuven walking around the street like he is no Yeshivish a boy will even look at us!”

    It hurt Shmuel to think back to Rivkys stricken face, it just makes me feel so inadequate thought Shmuel.


    But rivky persevered and in the end married a learningboy from the Mir whose patents supported them.


    so apparently a bunch of 19 year old girls are better writers than at least one poster here…


    Hahaha yeah


    lol I still can’t figure out who shmuel and rivky are. father/daughter? shadchan/client? psychologist/patient? and where does reuven fit into the picture? abusive ex-husband just released from prison? OH THE SUSPENSE.


    Should have realized this would happen…..


    Vogue +1 for your earlier comment


    Shmuel – father

    Rivky – daughter of marriageable age

    Reuven – Likely OTD son of Shmuel and brother of Rivky


    not all 19 year old girls get married though, or shidduch date. I am 19 and not shidduch dating, and probably won’t for a while even though I highly doubt I am going to college.


    Rivky was deep in thought on her way to work. She had real trouble controlling her tears since the conversation with her parents last night. Doesn’t her father realize that learning is so much more than support? It’s what she’s wanted all her life, what all her teachers spoke about, it was what she was created for! To support and encourage her husband who would learn Hashem’s Torah day and night. How could money be an end to her dreams? What happened to bitachon and trusting that Hashem will provide? And Reuven? Reuven would stop her from marrying her bashert? Reuven was the one who had been messing up the family for years now. And now he was the one to mess up the rest of her life? No. Rivky firmly decided. I can be different. Can’t I?


    Shmuel knocked lightly on his Rav’s door. He really needed a listening ear. The Rebbetzin answered right away, “Why hello Rabbi Schwartz” said the Rebbetzin with a big wrinkly smile. Come right in the Rav will be able to see you in a few minutes. Shmuel let himself sink in to the brown worn out chair like he did so many times before. Shmuel felt himself relaxing already as he waited patiently for the Rav’s office door to open up.


    “big wrinkly smile”

    lol wut


    Rabbi Feder knew by the look on Shmuel’s face that it was going to be a late night. The Rebbitzen brought the Rav his Tea and then closed the door gently. The clocked ticked and ticked until it read 1:40 AM. By that time Shmuel had felt a whole lot better and the Rav felt confidant that Shmuel had finally understood the importance of his message. The outcome would be difficult yet it would richly pay off in the end. But how was he to break it to his wife Chani and most importantly to Rivky herself?

    Bar Shattya

    The next morning, Reuven was found without dead in his room, without his wallet, and no signs of forced entry, with a note on his chest which read “Killed by annonymous” written in lipstick

    Bar Shattya

    At the same time a thread was started on Inshidduchim about how best to remove stains from your dress.


    The Schwartz family sold Reuven’s organs on the black market and made lots of money with which to support Rivky and her chosson.

    The End.

    Bar Shattya

    But first Shmuel divorced his wife for gambled away the money on the internet, and guess who it was that was winning all the money from him… it was a Russian quintaple agent for Iran and Israel and the deep congo


    The quintuple agent, whose name was Mohammed McDonald-McVeigh, used the money to buy flowers for his wife, the famous wannabe shadchanit Mrs. Norrisberg. She asked him where the money came from, and when he explained the story of the Schwartz family, was determined to find Rivky a shidduch.

    But who would marry the daughter of not one, but two divorcees? A clap of thunder sounded in the distance as Mrs. Norrisberg thought it over. Aha! The answer appeared bright as lightning in a forest on a dark night. Oseh Maaseh Bereishis! That lovely Ger Tzedek Bereishis ben Avraham- odd name, to be sure, but wouldn’t Bereishis and Rivky make a lovely pair? Their names even appeared in the same chumash!

    It was mamash bashert, she concluded. She turned to her dear husband Triple M (It was too long to call him Mohammed McDonald-McVeigh, and anyway what his parents were thinking naming him that was beyond her.) “Triple M, dear, what do you think of Bereishis for that Rivky Schwartz you just told me about?”


    “But who would marry the daughter of not one, but two divorcees?”


    Triple-M looked at his wife, growing comprehension in his eyes.

    “Wait, you mean Bereishis who’s cousins with the British royal family?”

    She nodded, grinning broadly.

    “Bereishis who made his billions with his free-trade, completely humane, world-renowned coffee business?”

    “Yes! She’ll always be able to get her daily French vanilla latte!”

    “Bereishis, five-time winner of Family First’s Most-Charming-Smile Award and the biggest mensch this side of Taliban headquarters?”

    “Yes! Him! Don’t you think he’d be absolutely PERFECT for her, dear?”

    Triple-M rolled his eyes. “Not in kollel.”


    But rivky persevered and in the end married a learning boy from the Mir whose patents supported them.”

    What did the boy invent and how did he get the patents? 🙂


    WOW, You guys are great!! Keep this going..I want to read more!


    “I’m not going to say this again sit in your seat and eat breakfast like a Mentch!” Shmuel slowly opened his eyes and squinted at the clock, 8:45 AM, oh no thought Shmuel I’m going to be late for Shachris and work. Shmuel’s morning was one big whirlwind of rushing, first rushing to shul, then to work he didn’t have a second to think about his conversation last night with the Rav.

    Over supper, Shmuel promised himself, over supper I will discuss this with Chani and Rivky. With Hashem’s help IY”H everything will work out.


    Can’t believe I missed this thread.


    I can’t believe it either. Frankly, I am very disappointed in you Mr. Abba.


    I was just reading the inshidduchim ongoing story.

    If we’re going to model after that, then Rivky goes out with Bereishis. The whole thing is amazing and he’s a total mensch and Rivky is totally obsessed until in one date he turns into an emotionally manipulative psychopath.


    (Yes, I know that that’s not exactly how theirs is going, but we’re going for their story x100, no?)

    Actually, their running commentary on the story is even better than the story itself.


    writersoul: great job. I lol’d at your punchline.


    Torah: Thanks! Now, can someone please, please, PLEASE continue it? My creative juices are drained dry (I’ve been spending a week trying to imagine up semi-convincing answers to annoying finals) and I need a few good laughs.

    Oh, Torah, and I really liked yours, too. It was hysterical, and I obviously borrowed a lot from it.


    Meanwhile, Rivky had other ideas.

    Unbeknownst to her parents, but very beknownst to the NSA, Rivky had been working in her secret laboratory for many years on a vaccine for the shidduch crisis, and she thought she had finally found it. Once she obtained FDA approval, the shidduch crisis would be over. And once the shidduch crisis was over, she would be free to marry whomever her father chose.


    MMM had a secret informer within the NSA whom he nicknamed Eliyahu Rainden, and knew about Rivky’s secret plans. He was not about to give up on his rightful shadchanus by allowing Rivky to marry someone his wife didn’t set Rivky up with.


    writersoul: Thanks. 🙂 Let’s not model after their story. Ours is better and way more exciting.


    Eliyahu Rainden was a good friend of Bereishis; they had stayed in touch since a 16 hour stint as seatmates for a flight to the Congo. He was also well acquainted with Mrs. Norrisberg (her Brooklyn alias, as ‘Mrs. McDonald-McVeigh’ was unlikely to succeed in shadchanus) and respected her opinion highly. In short, Rainden was perfectly positioned to precipitate this pairing.

    MMM called Eliyahu on his top-secret emergency direct line.

    “Rainden? This is MMM. What are you up to?”

    “I am only at liberty to disclose that I’m about to visit a coffee magnate and obtain an international approval form for an essential shidduch vaccine ingredient.”

    “Noooooo! Listen! My wife has a shidduch idea! B and R! I can’t say anything more over the phone! Do you get it?”

    “You mean the B and R mentioned in the same Chumash? That’s brilliant! Both out of the box. But in the box. Unboxed, reboxed, inboxed, and outboxed. I can’t believe no one has set them up yet!”

    “Well, she says she wants a boy in learning. And if the vaccine goes through, she’ll end up marrying her father’s pick, and they’ll both be miserable. We need to stop this now!”

    “I’m on it. Call you back later.”

    Eliyahu Rainden immediately put out a block on processing all paperwork for the shidduch vaccine. Meanwhile, he had Rivky assigned to analyzing coffee for traces of cortisol from the sweat of badly treated underage workers.


    There was a hollow howl in the mind-boggling nothingness of the empty sky on a deep blue night.

    The center of night was approaching, and all light had been put out.

    But Rivky lie awake. She had already made up her mind.

    It was time for the dreamer to act on her dreams.

    No more pre-arranged dates, no more approbations and denials.

    Now it was Rivky, and Rivky alone who would decide her dates. Be they clandestine, be they with the devil himself.

    Carefully, she detached the drapes in her room from the window lintel.

    She draped it over herself, a ghostly cloth from head to toe.

    With the scissors in her makeup drawer, she etched out a space in her newfound cloak. A rectangle, so that just the sparkle of her determined eyes shown.

    She was now wearing a perfect Arab garb.

    Through a drape-less window, a figure in a dark red cloak disappeared into the night.

    Not many meters from her house, a rush off freedom overtook her. A thrill of ecstasy, like a prisoner set free.

    By morning she would reach the Taliban. If Mohammed McDonald-McVeigh was the best learner in Town, it was him that she would date. Not to burden her parents to support a Kollel man. Not to dishonor her father and mother. Not to defy her Shadchan.

    But for the sake of Torah.


    You guys are mamash brilliant.

    Just saying, though I’m sure you hear it often enough.


    writersoul: You’re brilliant. (in case you don’t hear it often enough 🙂 )

    playtime: Nice. I think you mixed up MMM with Bereishis.

    OK… who’s going to continue? I need something to bounce off of. 🙂


    Torah: Awwwww 🙂 Thanks, I seriously needed that.

    I’m actually sick right now, so this isn’t going to be very good, but just as something for Torah to bounce off of and to prevent this thread from dying an ignominious death:

    Eliyahu Rainden shuffled through the employee profiles again, and he always seemed to come to one- Rivky. And then he had that thought again, and he sighed.

    Why had he sounded so eager to have Rivky go out with that deadbeat Bereishis? He’d been planning the whole weekend to get Mrs Norrisberg to suggest a shidduch for her with HIM, and then he has to trip up and sound so thrilled about Rivky and Bereishis. Who’s a nice guy, REALLY, he supposed, but SO WHAT?

    Rhghlorisehygfrie. Not fair.

    And now, he probably wouldn’t be able to do anything at all about it- Rivky would end up analyzing coffee for sweat her whole life, married to Bereishis, with his million-watt prizewinning smile grinning at her every day- while he, Eliyahu Rainden, was sitting in prison for leaking to the press all about how the government was peering into their lives, every single day.

    And handing the information over to a Russian-Iranian-Israeli group deep in the jungles of Africa, run by Mohammed McDonald-Mc Veigh.

    Who was passing all the information to his wife, Mrs Norrisberg.

    Who was using that information in her bid to become the Most Successful Shadchan Of All Time.

    Imagine, having the personal emails and telephone conversations of millions of Americans! You’d never have to worry that the references were hiding the guy’s explosive temper or the girl’s mole on her left pinky toe!

    But Eliyahu Rainden wasn’t going to stand for that. He wasn’t going to let Mrs Norrisberg make that shidduch between Rivky and Bereishis.

    How would he escape prosecution, though?

    Hey! Why not go to Israel! With the Law of Return, there would be no problems or international scandal at all!




    No- no- I won’t let you die- I REFUSE to let you die…


    Sorry writersoul. Thanks for your update! B”N I’ll do it sometime tomorrow.


    “Rivky” said Shmuel as soon as he got home from work, “can you come here please, there is something I would like to discuss with you.” “Tatty! No! I can’t discuss it! I can’t discuss anything! Talking about Shidduchim get’s me stressed out! Please don’t try to talk to me.” Rivky promptly turned around, rushed into her room, loudly shutting the door behind her.

    Shmuel looked up to the ceiling and let out a deep sigh.


    writersoul, that was excellent. I’m not really up to bouncing off that right now. Maybe later this week. But, here’s my try.

    Rivky’s double breathed a sigh of relief. That was close! She’d been worried that Rivky’s father would notice the nail polish she hadn’t had time to remove. The myriad rules, restrictions, and social norms Orthodox girls took for granted were not easy to duplicate, even for an experienced body double like Lauren Steinhardt.

    Fortunately, Rivky had left detailed notes on her work, as well as a complete psychological analysis of her parents and close friends, and recordings of relevant DMCs. Lauren planned out her strategy for dealing with Rivky’s father. She’d explain that her new job involving special ed kids had given her an all-expenses-paid opportunity to move to Juneau, Alaska for the next 6 months, which meant she’d be home just in time to help with Pesach cleaning.

    Then Lauren could start working on her next goal – dating Bereishis, the baal middos coffee magnate with the gorgeous smile.


    Shmuel’s double also breathed a deep sigh. He’d been worried that Rivky would notice his nose ring. Keeping track of all these restrictions on Orthodox men was getting hard.

    Maybe, he thought, maybe I should just send Rivky for 6 months to be a cleaning lady in Alaska. Her cleaning help wouldn’t be needed at home until pesach, and Baal Zevuv knows she was good at it. (Baal peor doesn’t care about cleaning very much.)

    Meanwhile, Chani’s double furrowed the brow on her big wrinkly old face. The double brow, over her double chin, and double eyes and nose and lips. How would she ever manage to trap Rivky into going to Alaska, and picking up the tri-wizard cup which was changed into a portkey?


    Lauren’s double breathed a sigh of relief, it was hard pretending to not know how Orthodox women act. She just couldn’t let the vaccine be produced, the vampires needed someone to prey on and if they didn’t dig enough holes they’d never find the treasure.. the last horcrux- A jar of peach jam.


    Lauren’s triple was not breathing any sighs of relief tonight. It was easy pretending to not pretend to not know how orthodox women acted. She had work to do.

    Wearing a white skirt, and a kiki riki shell under an otherwise not tznius blouse, she began nailing together a big crate to hide inside for the flight to Juneau. Wouldn’t her double be surprised when she jumped out and freed rivky.

    Oops, almost forgot! She quickly rolled up her sleeve (tzniusly) and injected the next dose of the latest version of the shidduch crisis vaccine. “That was close”, she thought, not breathing any sighs of relief. “A few more minutes and I’d have been a NASI statistic.”


    Lauren’s triple’s alternate personality rejoiced inwardly, she had finally ouwitted LTA (lauren’s triple’s personality A). Instead of the vaccine, she had filled the syringe with an anti-tznius drug, in just 6 hours Lauren’s triple would walk out of the plane right into the hands of lauren’s quadruple and a squadron of NASI investors and then rivky would never clean for pesach or baal peor.

    Meanwhile Shmuel’s Triple was getting confused if he was supposed to pretend to notice or not notice Lauren’s Triple’s pretending pretending to not pretend to not know how orthodox women acted. In particular he wasn’t sure whether he was talking to LTA or LTB. He decided to play it safe and fake an asthma attack, use his epi-pen and go to sleep. He reached for the syringe, inserted it into his thyroid (or wherever it goes) and breathed a sigh of relief. Just then LTB noticed that she had used his syringe. Who know’s what Shmuel’s Double alternate personality had put in his!


    Back at the hidden lab, Rivky was observing the results of her newest version of the vaccine. She gently woke up one of the girls and looked for the tell-tale signs.

    “Rochel, rochel,” she whispered.

    “hello rivky, good morning, how does it look?, rochel responded”

    “Blast it! Still nothing. Would this never work?” The most annoying part was that the cure was actually working very well. All the girls who had been injected thought they were happily married within a few hours. But try as she might, Rivky was unable to get the vaccine to cause autism. And there was no chance she’d be able to convince people the vaccine worked if it didn’t cause autism.


    Rivky decided to go ahead with the plan anyway and sent it to all the labarotories labeled as one of the essential ingredients in the vaccine for girl’s measles with a time delay of 19 years.

    Rochel’s double grinned. In fact, the only thing that the vaccine caused WAS autism.


    In the meantime, in a dank, cold cellar deep in the Congo, Shmuel and Chani were waking up.

    The REAL Shmuel and Chani. They’d made sure of that.

    Or rather, they HOPED they’d made sure of that… so hard to tell these days.

    Shmuel and Chani were both yawning and stretching, looking around to figure where they were and what had happened to that nice man who had been offering them perfume samples as they walked through that parking lot, when Mohammed McDonald-McVeigh walked in.

    “Ahhhh- Rabbi and Mrs Plonitzky. I’ve been waiting for you.”

    Shmuel opened his eyes, took in the damp, dark, gloomy cave and the enormous, sinister-looking man with the enormous, sinister-looking scar, and the enormous, sinister-looking- wait, was that a streimel?- and, most of all, the enormous, sinister-looking machine gun and proceeded to quickly close his eyes again.

    Must be just a bad dream….

    Last time this had happened, he’d woken up again just as the rav was finishing his shiur.

    But he felt something prodding him, and alert to the fact that it could easily be that machine gun, he opened his eyes again.

    “Now, Rabbi Plonitzky, I’d like to facilitate an exchange of information. You have something I want, and I have something you want.”

    Shmuel couldn’t understand- what was with this guy? Why was a man who looked like an amalgamation of the antagonist of every Jewish novel out there (not hard- they were all the same in the first place) except for the streimel standing in front of him waving a machine gun and a cell phone?

    He listened, dazed, as MMM continued his harangue.

    “Your daughter has been telling you that she works as a speech therapist in a special ed preschool, am I correct?”

    Shmuel nodded mutely.

    “Well, she was lying to you. She is currently working for the NSA in an underground laboratory and is busy making the prototype of the shidduch vaccine. But you need to stop her. The active ingredient in her shidduch vaccine will react badly with the active ingredient in the Shidduch Suppressor vaccine which we’ve hidden in the HPV vaccine for frum girls.

    “Therefore, you are going to pick up this phone and tell Rivky to stop this, or her parents- her real parents, not the doubles or triples or quadruples- will be shot. But—“

    There was just enough of a tantalizing note at the end of that “but” to keep Shmuel from screaming out “Shema Yisrael.” “But—“

    “But, if you do what I say and she stops her plans, I can offer you–“

    There was a definite breathlessness in Shmuel’s voice. “You can offer me—“

    “—A shidduch for Rivky.”

    And immediately a fight broke out, as Shmuel and Chani scrambled to see who would get hold of the phone first.

    just my hapence

    Back in the hotel lobby, Yossi was taking his first, second, third and fourth look at Shoshana Beis. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what he found interesting about her – her round wire glasses, the old-fashioned Nikon she wore round her neck or that massive trunk on legs that sat by her side with a look of menace in what he presumed would be its eyes had it had any. She looked back up at him.

    “So, your surname, Rachatzruach is it? Interesting, never really heard of it before. Where does it come from?”

    Yossi breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been down this route many times before. It was time for “the shpiel”; he gave it to every girl and it was true. Most of it anyway. Or some of it. Well, bits of it had seen the truth from a distance at some point and that’s all that really counted.

    “My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was a ger, you see. Greek. Ancient Greek actually, you know toga, sandals, Zeus-fan – that kind of thing. Name was Lavaeolus or some such and there aren’t many of his descendants left anymore. My family are basically the last ones left. I’ve got a cousin of some variety who’s a Rosh Yeshiva in some place down in Australia, and I think my dad has a cousin somewhere who’s an accountant but we don’t talk about him. Apart from them, it’s just us.”

    Shoshana appeared to be interested, but that didn’t really mean a thing. His last 49 dates had also appeared interested but they all said “no” to a second date, so hey. He decided to try a different track.

    “You read the newspapers?” He asked.

    Shoshana nodded, reached into the psychotic truck and pulled out a copy of what looked like The Times.

    “Mostly for the typos,” she said sheepishly, passing it across to him and pointing to the banner at the top of the front page. He read it.

    “The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret”.

    He looked back up and saw her staring over his shoulder. Turning, he saw a middle-aged man in full Catholic clerical garb standing by the door.

    “Don’t worry about him,” he told Shoshana, “that’s just Father O’Flagherty. He’s the priest who’ll discover that’s he’s Jewish shortly before the end of the story. We still have to get past the Baal Teshuva who has a deep, spiritual experience in Tzfas, the one who has a deep, spiritual experience going to mikva, the one who sees the simcha in the deep, spiritual experience of a frum wedding and the secular American, probably a very succesful one, with a generic name who suddenly realises that he’s missing something in his life and then sees a picture of a made-up Chassidishe Rebbe and has a deep, spiritual experience before we get to the priest.”

    Shoshana groaned. “One of those stories is it?”

    “‘Fraid so.”

    “And so you’re probably going to go to kollel and then somehow get caught up in a web of intrigue involving the CIA, possibly the now-defunct KGB, MI5, Mossad, some Arab terrorists and one or two Neo-Nazis, and yet somehow, without any training or experience outwit all the highly trained operatives from all these various organisations, save the day and when offered a huge reward you’ll turn it down saying that all that matters to you is your Torah.”

    “Yup. Looks like it…” said Yossi.

    “Bother,” said Shoshana.

    “And the author will probably use long words that they don’t really know the meaning of, and those that they kind of know the mean of they’ll use out of context. I expect we’ll end up getting married in a ‘sumptuously decorated’ hall and I can’t imagine we’ll be able to just say anything anymore, we’ll have to state it,” stated Yossi.

    “Look, a statement is declarative expression that is either true or false. It is one sided and does not usually come about during two-way conversation,” declared Yossi.

    “And a declaration is pretty much the same thing,” he pontificated.

    “Well, a pontification is an expression of personal opinion or a declaration from the Pope. I was giving definitions,” he genuflected.

    Yossi jumped out of his seat waving his fist in the air,

    “Genuflection isn’t a type of speech at all you stupid author! It’s a way of showing respect by bowing on one knee!” he ranted.

    Shoshana looked him up and down. And down and up. Slowly, he sat back down in his seat, breathing heavily. Shoshana looked him in the eye and, with great solemnity, exclaimed “Baruch Hashem!”

    He boggled a bit.


    “Well,” dictated Shoshana, (“dictation is the laying down of authority, pinhead!”)”If it’s going to be one of those stories then I have to randomly say ‘Baruch Hashem’ every now and then. It’s the law, I think.”

    There was a small cough from next to them. It came from a small man. He was a rather grubby looking small man in an over-sized trench-coat who held a tray of goods, or more accurately – possibly adequates, in front of him.

    “Latke in a bun?” he asked, proffering a small, greasy item in a small, greasy bun in his small, greasy hand. “Only $1, and that’s payin’-me-own-taxes…”


    Brilliant updating.

    I think it’s time for a character list before we all get confused:

    Schwartz Family:

    Rivky (main character): Daughter in Shidduchim, wants to marry a learning boy, works for NSA developing shidduch vaccine

    Shmuel: Father of eligible daughter Rivky, earns money to marry her off by selling his OTD son’s organs on black market, married to

    Chani: Mother of eligible daughter Rivky, divorces Shmuel for gambling away that money

    Reuven: OTD son of Shmuel and brother of Rivky, killed by a female who posts on, your guess if that’s Rivky or not

    Other Characters:

    Rabbi Feder: Shmuel’s Rav, implied to have advised Shmuel to have Reuven killed to improve Rivky’s shidduch prospects.

    MMM aka Mohammed McDonald-McVeigh (pronounced Triple-M): quintuple agent for Iran/Israel/Congo, won the money from Shmuel, bought flowers for his wife—-

    Mrs. Norrisberg: Brooklyn name of Mrs. McDonald-McVeigh, famous wannabe shadchan, tries to set up Rivky with—

    Bereishis Ben Avraham: ger tzedek, cousin to British royal family, coffee magnate, baal middos, five-time winner of Family First’s Most-Charming-Smile Award. Rivky doesn’t want to go out with him because he’s not in kollel and why should she compromise when she has her vaccine?

    Eliyahu Rainden: MMM’s secret informer within the NSA, still in learning, wanted to ask Mrs. Norrisberg to be set up with Rivky. When MMM asks him for help in getting Rivky set up with Bereishis, Eliyahu tries to figure out how to stop Rivky from being set up with Bereishis while not offending his old friend MMM.

    Rochel: Early subject of shidduch vaccine trials. Thinks she is happily married within a few hours. The vaccine works successfully but does not appear to cause autism.

    Doubles and Triples:

    Lauren Steinhardt: Rivky’s double, finds Orthodox female social norms difficult, decides to tell Shmuel and Chani that Rivky’s going to Alaska until needed for Pesach cleaning, wants to date Bereishis.

    Shmuel’s double: Forgot to remove nose ring. Serves Baal Zevuv. Wants to send Rivky to Alaska.

    Chani’s double: Very wrinkly. Wants to send Rivky to Alaska.

    Lauren’s double: Implied to exist.

    Lauren’s triple: Hides in flight to Alaska to free Rivky and allow the shidduch vaccine to work. Takes a dose of the latest version. Does not realize that—

    Lauren’s triple’s alternate personality: filled Lauren’s triple’s syringe with an anti-tznius drug.

    Shmuel’s Triple: Is confused about whether to pretend to notice or not notice Lauren’s Triple’s pretending pretending to not pretend to not know what’s going on.

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