“Well *we’re* a fine pair of lost souls, Robot Derak Jones.”
“Be quiet, Campbell. I’m trying to figure out what went wrong.”
“Opp, please,” the blue boy demanded again.
“Opp, Campbell, Opie, Thelma Lou, whatever.”
He read well into the night while the Mmmmmm dozed outside in the warm New Island clime. Peace and quiet at last.
But no mention of Pervimus and the resurrection yet.
Furry Karl woke up in the Bluebird Cuddle Van, more 3d and less hairy, true, but still alive and well (yea!). He shortly made his way into a conveniently placed local strip club. No surprise there given the change.
“Well,” coffee drinking Pervimus Rex opined, checking him over. “You *smell* fresh. That’s a good sign.”
“Yes,” agreed his smoking and reading cousin Wally. “Looks like he’s here to stay a little longer than we expected.”
Afterwards, Baker Bloch treats Baker Blinker to a fresh meal of catfish at Perch to celebrate. “Here’s to akking!” he exclaims, raising his glass of French rosé and clinking it with Baker Blinker’s own. The strong German beer Brewmeister’s Quarterly had been banned from the restaurant.
“My blues cousin Opp is missing, Bill. I, of course, blame the reds and yellows.”
“Tell me about it,” affirms Wheeler who is now Bill — The Bill. “I’ve been shooting reds and yellows all day.”
“But if you’ll excuse me, I must now get back to sewing the elephant.”
Grassy Noll wondered what that was a euphemism for, but Bill meant it literally.