An instant in time (Summit Inn Pizza, Kamas UT):
Center of circle:
“And *then* what happened, Young Ruby?” asked Indigo on the left.
“Yes, please tell us more!” implored Indigo’s sister Ragdoll to her right.
“Well,” stated Ruby. “There’s a picture here, and then the text, let’s see, continues on the next page: ‘But just as the shell representing Mr. Peanuts’ rough hewed, reddish exterior started to crack, Madame Silver’s boos arrived and began attacking the city. Wallytown and its infamous wall were destroyed, freeing the tree beings living inside — those who survived. But like the legendary phoenix bird, the city rebuilt itself from the ashes. Trees and humans — all different colored beings with their different colored blood — began to live together in peace and mutual understanding. With no wall this time around, Fishertown, not Wallytown, became its name moving forward, after the island it continued to thrive upon. The boos were ultimately beneficial, although at first they seemed to spell The End.'”
Seeing empty space below this, Ruby turned the page to reveal a blank one, then checked the back cover before closing the book. “And that seems to be it, my friends.”
“Hmph. Good story,” offers Indigo.
“Yes. Good,” said Ragdoll, nodding. “Let’s start another one tomorrow.”
Ruby puts the book back onto the shelf with the other volumes.
“Well Ragdoll, I hate to disappoint you but it looks like the end of Mabel’s run of journals.” She counts them off: “Starts at one, yes, and ends… 4, 5, 6, 7… at 10.”
“Oh no,” exclaims Ragdoll, truly distressed. “What will we do now during our afternoon gatherings?”
“Yes,” adds Indigo. “We’ve gotten so use to reading and talking about them.”
Ruby’s wooden foot then kicks against something hard on the floor. “Oh wait, gals. Looks like there’s one more after all — must have fallen off the shelf.”
“Oh goody!” yelps Ragdoll.
“Happy days indeed,” purrs Indigo.
END OF “COLLAGESITY 2018 LATER”!
“Money, get back / I’m all right, Jack / Keep your hands off my stack / New car / Caviar / Four-star daydream / Think I’ll buy me a football team.”
The gala crowd erupts, to which Sprite adds on top: “Tear down this wall, Mr. Orange!”. The crowd continues to clap. A “Tear Down The Wall” chant begins slowly, then builds, until Alo Bama takes the mic and motions everyone to calm down.
“*Freedom*. (pause) It’s what everyone wants, everyone cherishes.” Alo Bama indicates Sprite sitting back in the crowd. “Like our tree friend Mr. Sprite, waiting to be unencumbered by the shackles of The Wall, ready to join Wallytown as a *full* *fledged* *citizen*.”
The crowd claps enthusiastically again. “With inalienable rights,” he says over them, calming them down once more. “And established levels of treatment honoring decency, character (pause), respect.” “You go Alo!” someone shouts in the rear, prompting him to reply, “I’m going, I’m going. ” Scattered laughter is heard. “I’m telling it like it is.”
“I thought you were going to dramatically change into Green Squirrel or Roger Pine Ridge or something to show who you really are,” spoke Natali seated beside Sprite now, his date for the night.
“Ahh, it just didn’t seem to fit the bill. Didn’t feel right. It was *my* poem and that’s what counts.”
“I suppose… oh he’s starting to talk about the Bottle Mound indians now.”
“On the one hand,” Alo Bama extends his left arm and opens his hand. “Orange. On the other…” Alo Bama extends his other arm with the mic. “Purple… Violet, some say, although they prefer the former and we should respect (pause) their rights. And they’ve fought with each other, fought, fought, fought, down through the years, the centuries (pause). And what’s come of it, hmm?” A “free the trees” protest comes from the same person as before in the back. Alo Bama ignores it this time.
“Death is what came of it. And *disappearance* (pause) in time.”
“You know he really is quite the orator,” opined Dr. I.C. Yourinsides to Captain Spocari. But when he didn’t respond she found that he’d fallen asleep.
“*Really* Captain. But I guess you’re all knackered out from this afternoon, hehe. Twice a day keeps the doctor okay.”
“And now. (pause) The Mound. (pause) Comes here. Leemon or Leeman standing on the beach just beyond 1/2 refuses to even admit it is there. He can’t fully *see* (pause) this *new* New Island. The Greys *descend*…
… and fall backwards, face down (pause) in the sand.”
“When’s he going to get to Jimmy?” whispers Billy Bloodsworth on a back couch to Lavender. “I can tell he’s nervous up there, ready to come out of his shell like Alo Bama and Bill C. did before him.”
“Be patient,” replies his sister-in-law. “He has to get to the point in his own, circular way. That’s what makes him such a great speaker.”
“Jimmy was better.”
“Nice of you to say.”
(to be continued)
“Still pissing in public, Billy? Where was it last time? Airport, I believe?”
Billy Bloodsworth turned to his sister-in-law. “Listen, we’re both here to support Jimmy C. and cheer him on for The Discarding. Let’s just get along together tonight, Lavender. We’ve all changed down here. Let’s accept that and move on.” He changed the subject. “Do you have your poem ready?”
“Poem?” queries Lavender.
Sprite on the other side of her takes another drink. Billy studies his pained face.
“Umm, how about you, Sprite? Poetry?”
“Sure. You know this special brew of yours is just shite, Billy. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I only drink it for medicinal purposes myself. About that poem…”
(to be continued)
“Hey Tronesisia, I think this little yellow girl in our user baker b.’s newest collage also happens to be Lisa Smipson of Corsica, coinkidinkally enough, last seen by these metallic peepers on New Island. Fisher had a massive crush on her there. It’s fantastic they get together now — just like *we* are now together.”
Tronesisia pries herself away from the featured picture of the foyer exhibit to rejoin Bendy, who has reverted to the name Lord Bendington the Third for the purposes of this royal gala. As a Baroness herself now, she kisses the Lord on the cheek, then, hand propped under chin, studies the work before her. She’s good with these kinds of analyses, just like a certain bee-person we all know and love.
“Ice Cream,” she then exclaims. “Dr. Ice Cream. This is about the recent sexy union between Captain Spocari Nemoy and the Good Doctor. Heidi, aka Biker Chick, turned out to be just a warm up. Same with Natali Woodhull, at least when she dons the role of exotic dancer Molly Lustrous.”
She turns back to the featured work.
“And ‘Fractured Violin’ is the same, a mixture of red and green blood. Human and Vulcan. Exchange of bodily fluids. That’s how Dr. Ice Cream Yourinsides will survive and thrive on this island, this Fishers Island. That’s how all red blooded humans and aliens alike will survive. Turn to different colors.”
“Funny how all these unions are taking place now in this Collagesity novel 10,” spoke Bendy. “You and I; Spocari and Dr. I.C.; Lisa and Fisher. We must be nearing the end.”
“I predicted 2 weeks ago to the day to Natali that the ball in all its guises would represent the endpoint: Completio. But we should go inside. Rocky is warming up without me. Then after our gig and signature song of ‘OTR’ we’ll have the introduction of the Presidents, all Democrats, all urbane blue Socialists discarding rough hewed, reddish exteriors. And then at the end we’ll meet the most liberal of all. For from now on it will always be Christmas in Wallytown and on Fishers Island as a whole.”
Bendy whistles in admiration of Tronesisia’s prescient
prowess powers. “I’m with you all the way, babe.” They hold hands and proceed within…
(to be continued)
“Now that Lisa has arrived on the scene, we’ll have to hide you down here,” proclaims Missus Lemon, happy about the reunion but concerned.
“A drugstore?” asks Fisher.
“Drugstore Orange?” elaborates Lisa, noticing the name on a sign.
“Ahh, you speak Japanese. Even more reason for concern.”
“I learned it while staying in Adgatetown over on the Corsica continent.”
“I know the place,” said Natsu Lemon, nodding. She touches the wall behind her. “Here is the secret door. Quickly — inside. Before someone sees us. I’m sorry it’s a little cramped. And — that other thing.”
“I can’t quite reach it, Lisa.”
“That blue book may hold the key to everything,” Lisa says, trying not to stare into his eyes. “Here. I’ll help. Maybe we can use one of those flasks over there to knock it down. But careful — we can’t *damage* it.”
“History of Wallytown,” says Fisher, watching Lisa get up and move to the table, also trying not to stare. “What *is* this place?”
“Here, let me see.” Fisher grabs the book, rereads the passage Lisa just summarized.
“Soon as we get out of here, Fisher, lover. I mean, as *soon* as we get out. I want you to ditch those bar layabouts Catchup and Mustered and dye your hair a different color. Blue would be nice. Green… anything.”
Fisher finishes up the section, looks forward with Lisa. “So it *is* a demon.”