“Tinbaby, eh?” Karl says, shaking his head. He still can’t believe this man of metal sitting in front of him is the Tinbaby all grown up.
“But reversed,” reinforces Dr. Blood, aka Tinman. “Time flows backwards. Except now it moves forwards. I can feel my heart again. How about you Homer?”
“I’d like to feel my hand slide around another one of those delicious Krings, Karl, is what I’m thinking. Hit me again.” Homer points to a small, bare spot on the bar counter in front of him.”
“Boy you can sure hold your beer pretty good, Homer Simpson,” says Karl. “Well, I’m glad the woods aren’t haunted any more, I really am. I’ve made my money off my book deal. I’ve got a nice spot here for the bar in Collagesity. Things are looking up.”
“That’s great, Karl,” says Dr. Blood. “My heart feels your heart and the joy it has. We are all good and one in Collagesity.”
Karl looks toward Homer. “How about you, Homer? I guess you’re still missing your cartoon family, eh? Carrcassonnee told me yesterday that she’s actually your girl Lisa. She can do things like that. Go way back in time and inhabit tv characters, even animated ones. You may also know her as Fitz the Mouse from the short lived but brilliant “12 Oz Mouse”. I’m in that one too!”
“Karl, you’re making about as much sense as this scrunched up, empty beer can. Now — hit me.”
Dr. Blood moves in closer to Furry Karl and shields his mouth. “Um, I don’t think a certain you-know-who is suppose to know that information yet,” he says in a low tone, pointing to Homer.
“Oh oh yeah, right,” responds Karl. “I forgot”. He reaches into the cooler for another beer for Homer, hoping to distract him from these truths. “Here ya go, Homer. Pop away. Let the beer help you forget. Carrcassonnee blabbers a lot of nonsense. Who knows what she’s talking about a 1/3rd of the time.”
“Right, Karl,” chips in Dr. Blood, backing up his story. “Why– why just the other day she referred to me as a parrot. A parrot!”
Yeah,” says Karl, getting in the flow. “I saw her walking around the woods the other day completed naked, without a stitch of clothing. Bonkers, I tell you. Muttering something about running out of paper towels. Like the woods are going to provide her with paper towels. And she’s always going on about, what’s his name Dr. Blood?”
“Um, I don’t know.” Dr. Blood couldn’t think of anything to make up at this point.
“Sure you do, the guy on the big cross. Wappo Jack, yeah. Says he’s going to send the whole town to hell for all that’s going on now.”
“Yes… hell,” states Dr. Blood, thinking Karl needs to reel in the surrealism now.
“Yeah, she’s pretty nuts, Homer. Pret-ty nuts. I wouldn’t believe much of what she says.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” blurts out Homer as he pops open the tab of his 13th beer. “Marge is… lost in the woods. Without — paper towels.” His head sinks to the counter.
“Hey Tinman, I think it’s time for our boy to go home and sleep it off. Where are you guys staying?”
“I suppose we’ll go back into the forest,” answers Dr. Blood. “I want to help Carrcassonnee find those towels!”