Woody Woodmanson stepped out of his key shop teleporter and onto the green mainland terrain of Collagesity North. Like Pitch, he’d never been to this area before. But, as he told Lou, rent was just too expensive for his Bermingham house. When an opportunity to stay in Collagesity North free of charge came up, he jumped on it. Baker Bloch, who he knew now was the same as Snowmanster, would never be far away; a great buddy to have around. Things didn’t work out in Purden in terms of being immediate neighbors. Maybe here they would.
Baker said for Woody to look for snow. Like Pitch, he’d know immediately which dwelling spot was his. And like the vampire, he fell in love with it at first sight.
Snow, but not *everywhere*, he cooed. “Just around the house. *Just* right.”
“And a snowman. Howdy snowie! What’s your name?” No answer. “Must be one of the static ones,” Woody rationalized. “Hmm, maybe we can take care of that later.” He continued to talk to the inanimate object. “Would you like to be a real live snowman, just like I became a real live toy?” Woody definitely saw promise in the figure. And at 3 prims (as he subsequently checked), he’s a steal of a deal.
He goes around the big rock and enters the house from the porch. Also like Pitch, he was warned that clutter would be around, and that if he didn’t like some of the provided decor, there was no problem in switching it out.
But what *wasn’t* to like so far? Woody thought while settling back into a Victorian steampunk chair. Okay, so maybe the space monkey will have to go, he admitted to himself, not knowing this was famed philosopher and art critic Cardboard Derek Jones, “away” at the time.
Upstairs: a bed and a computer table. View of the entrance to the Great Linden Wall. “Lovely.”
Tired from his day of moving, Woody gets some well deserved shut-eye.