“You see, you don’t have to worry. Wheeler sets it up and I bowl them down. It’s a good partnership. It’s the way it’s suppose to be. Drink your fresh bottle of absinthe and quit complaining. I have everything under control. *We* do.”
“Okay. But Hucka Doobie still wants to talk to you.”
“So this is where all the magic happens, eh?”
“Suppose so, Hucka Doobie. Did you want to talk about something specific today? I don’t mind answering any questions.”
“No, no. Just catching up. Remember when we said we were going to meet weekly for a cup of joe? Well it’s been about a month.”
“Sure you don’t want to sit down? Or we can move over to the diner again. I think they ran out of a lot of the drinks last night. Kind of a pre-Halloween party. The gateway was opened.”
“To the past… I heard.” Hucka Doobie doesn’t want to look over at Baker Blinker’s pitch black eyes again. “Heard Wheeler played some mean avant-gard stylings on her 23 prim guitar. She entered the squared circle. She played well. So…” Hucka Doobie paused, not wanting to hurt the feelings of her dear friend.
“What is it, Hucka Doobie? Is it Wheeler? Like I was telling Karoz, it’s all under control. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so,” responds Hucka Doobie. “Can I see? I’m just curious about all this.”
But Hucka Doobie then disappeared, leaving Baker Blinker alone. Wheeler walks through the portal again.
“Time to get back on the keyboard Baker Blinker. We’ve got a show coming up!”
“Well that’s just wonderful Blinks. Is that a Spongeberg? Have they even been invented yet?”
Baker Blinker tried to speak but found that she had lost her voice. The piano kept playing.
“Yes. Avant-gard,” spoke Wheeler. “Just as I requested. Third time’s the charm. Who am I Baker Blinker? Who am I really? I have you now. Just like I wished. Maybe that little birdie can tell you.”