Murdock Island Too

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lanai

Lānaʻi (/ləˈnaɪ, lɑːˈnɑːi/;[1] Hawaiian: [laːˈnɐʔi, naː-]) is the sixth-largest of the Hawaiian Islands and the smallest publicly accessible inhabited island in the chain.[2] It is colloquially known as Pineapple Island[citation needed] because of its past as an island-wide pineapple plantation….

In 1921, Charles Gay planted the first pineapple on Lānaʻi. The population had again decreased to 150, most of whom were the descendants of the traditional families of the island.[14] A year later, James Dole, the president of Hawaiian Pineapple Company (later renamed Dole Food Company), bought the island and developed a large portion of it into the world’s largest pineapple plantation….

In 1985, Lānaʻi passed into the control of David H. Murdock, as a result of his purchase of Castle & Cooke, then owner of Dole….

In June 2012, Larry Ellison, then CEO of Oracle Corporation, purchased Castle & Cooke’s 98 percent share of the island for $300 million. The state owns the remaining 2 percent.[15]

(to be continued)

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Filed under *Second Life, Hawaii, Middletown

Jacob

“It’s perfect Patrick. We can raise our child here on retro Pineapple Island. We don’t need Eotia Village any longer. It’s just me and you, babe. I got you and all that.”

“What about the Oracle?” spoke Patrick, wiser than ever. The baby was coming!

“Oh, that thing. Discard it. Let it go. Tigers can be found anywhere. In the jungle. In the snow. Even in the desert or wasteland. We have our baby to think about now.”

—–

“Something’s not right, Zoidboro. There shouldn’t be a lake here. And the trees should be taller.”

“Nothing to worry about. Everything will adjust. Dog Island, the new one, is right over there.” Zoidboro indicates behind them, through the feed store and across the bay. “This is the new Murdock’s Island. Pineapple. The highway ends here.”

—–

“I think the trees *are* getting taller now.”

“And the water is beginning to evaporate. See? Everything will be fine.”

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inn (Eotia Village)

“Amazing, Patrick my man. Man *wo*man. All I had to do was volunteer to preach at the local Broken Clock Church twice a week and we get wined and dined all we desire. Room and board too.”

“No – more – cave!” expressed Patrick, who hated to shiver. Doc said his baby was due any day. “Another glass of rosé?”

“Don’t mind if I do, sir. Don’t mind if I do.”

—–

“I don’t understand, Magnus Ellen. The observing truck is gone here at Crow Island. How do we keep up with the progression of Zoidboro and boy gal Patrick?”

“Something must have changed,” opined the wise Buddhist to his understudy. “Strands (of time) must have been altered.”

Sidechick Corea paced nervously on the wooden swing bridge. “What… now, then?”

“Back to Rosehaven. Back to the cave. There *must* be a portal, for we’ve seen Zoidboro also preaching in Rosehaven Serenity.”

“How many places *is* he preaching, sire?”

“Maybe he can’t stop saying, ‘Don’t mind if I do, sir. Don’t mind if I do.'”


Camouflage knows.

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Fruity Islands > Rosehaven > Collagesity

—–

“So *you* were the Prince all along. This Ingo. Should’ve known by the name. Ingo… Ingor, your drummer.”

“And you have been the witch Hazel all along,” declared Col. Flagstaff from his log. “My ancient nemesis.”

“Perhaps not any more. Maybe moving forward from this centre spot we can be allies instead of axis. Depends if I can choose blue over red. It will be hard.”

“You should ditch Banana Boy to begin. Your yellow lover.”

“I need him still,” countered Parasol.

“Alright. Suit yourself.” Both knew this was a mistake, though.

Parasol looked at Col. Flagstaff. “You’ll have to remove the sphere to make a final decision. You can’t take that thing with you.”

“Sure about that?”

—–

“Say they — we — were trying to get rid of you, huh?”

“Yeah. Implied I was a liability.”

“And you saw this in the cave.”

“Yeah. I was the fire in the center of it all. The observing fire.”

“Interesting.”

Charlie Banana knew that if he didn’t kill the puppet man soon Parasol would need his heart instead. Better move into action.

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Filed under *Second Life, Fruity Islands, Rosehaven, Rubi

Serenity

If she sits in her compression chair too much longer, she may never get up.

So tightly wound around. Like a Mummy.

Only Monsieur’s visits brings her out of herself. Where *is* he??

—–

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for you, Hebert Gold.”

The full name, he thinks. She *was* upset. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the king. And then with the doll houses. We found Carrcassonnee inside. The one eyed entity that use to rule Collagesity. HF showed us.”

“But you were both Gold and Platinum inside Murdock’s Castle. Time was all mixed up. *Is* mixed up. You came too close to the truth.”

“Now I know. Fingerprince. I just had to find the second dollhouse to confirm it. And the second HF.”

“Are you going inside? Forever and ever and ever?”

“I’m not sure. What would you advise?”

She paused. “Maybe we should go to the Serenity Church. Perhaps the Reverend can help us.”

—–

“He’s *here*. Zoidboro is here.” Monsieur Gold was incredulous.

“Yes,” spoke Parasol below the tone of Zoidboro’s preaching. “It’s because of the Gold and Platinum mix-up. Zoidboro’s been here for years now. Yet he has just arrived. And then: he isn’t here yet. Some realities he was never born, never had a child by that strange mutant gal-guy Patrick Starr.”

“The drummer?”

“No, that’s Ingor.”

“Ingo?”

“No. *He’s* different.”

“My head hurts. I need to sit down.”

—–

So they sat down opposite Sally Spark O Naut — who had dutifully followed Zoidboro through the eyeball cave portal — and listened to the remainder of a beautiful sermon about the dangers of shark attacks. Afterwards, Herbert Gold’s head hurt considerably more.

In fact, I think he died there. Again.

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Filed under *Second Life, Rosehaven

Fingerprince

See for yourself!

https://veyot368870036.wordpress.com/2019/02/14/undertones-by-art-oluja/

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Bartholomew

Ready to take on a witch.

And fail.

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