Monthly Archives: September 2018

statues

Jill MacGill/Gwin spouts the history of the place she and Axis wait at for the ambassador.

“‘The water at the upper dam of Fish Lake, also known as Lake Three’  — that’s because of its shape and not because it is the third part of some series,” she adds as an aside, then continues. “Let’s see — ‘… falls vertically in contrast to the gentler step cascade of the lower dam.'” She turns to Axis, who was formerly the boy known as Tin Tin. There was no need to keep up that disguise any longer, since the marriage was off. To both Ruby *and* her effective doppleganger Gwin here. “That’s because of the salmon. The salmon need some way to get to the lake to spawn, where they themselves were spawn.”

“I know how it works, Gwin. But thank you for the passage. I’m going to go over and look behind said waterfall now. See what has changed since my last visit as that snotty nosed boy Tin Tin.”

“Disgusting,” agreed Gwin, shaking her head. “Try to remedy that the next time you incarnate as a hormone raging teenager.”

“I’ll try.” Axis gets up off the curving bench. “I’m going over there now. You wait here for Briney if you don’t mind. He said to meet him in the northeast corner of the plaza and we don’t want to miss him. Again.”

“But I want to see *too.*”

Axis looked around, gauging distances and space. “All right. But leave your red book on the bench — open — so he knows we’re here. In case he misses us standing over there. You know how he is.”

“But…”

“No one will steal it,” assures the red crossed man, guessing what Gwin was thinking. “It’s just a old book *prop* and not an old and rare book itself.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot.”

“The camera’s right over there. Remember?”

“Yeah I know. Hi Bert!” She waves to the cameraman, who hesitantly waves back.

“We should get up. The script demands we get up.” But Jill MacGill/Gwin was still thinking it’s a continuity error as she lays down the supposedly rare tome. Plus it could damage the spine keeping it open like that.

—–

We’ve seen this before, Pitch. That tome is ‘Winesap’.”

“I suppose it has to be, Bill.”

—–

“Way down there, aren’t they?”

“Completely vertical, like I said.”

“And last time I checked — for the purposes of this shoot earlier today, you understand — we have yet another avatar that winks on and off while switching colors between green — cypress colored green, or the darker variety anyway — and silver.”

“Like Madame Silver,” Jill MacGill/Gwin tacks on, thinking they need to get back on script.

“The name is Emerald this time.” Axis checks the location behind the waterfall remotely. “But now she’s not there.”

“Could be other clues,” suggests Gwin. “Don’t give up so easily.”

So Axis scouts again and perhaps sees something else.

“He’s checking the water in Glinda. He’s in Glin, but holds the glass in Glinda, then scrutinizes it. The he wipes it down in Glin and starts again. Over and over it goes. He understands it is different over there. He’s afraid to step beyond the boundary, else…”

“Phantom,” completes Gwin.

“He’s trying to figure out why. Scientist?”

—–

“No, they’re *both* over the line. Both in Glinda. A man and a woman. Adam and Eve, then?”

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art of the deal

“How do you like my painting, Mr. Dune. I’m thinking of calling it ‘Life on an Orange.'”

Pathetic, Herbert Dune thinks to himself. “Exquisite,” he says aloud. “Listen, Madame Silver. I see that you’re a very busy and productive young woman.”

Madame Silver giggles outlandishly. “Oooo, young *man*. You flatter me!”

“Thank you. I won’t waste any more of your precious time. I’m here for the complaint about one of our dollhouses. You said a characters within is… stuck?”

Madame Silver talks while continuing to paint. “Yes, um, but why don’t we discuss it over tea. Do you like tea? Hot tea I mean. Cold tea is for barbarians. I hope you’re not a cold tea lover. For the sake of our continued business transactions.”

“You are one of our most loyal customers, Madame Silver. I will be glad to have tea with you if you can take time from your busy schedule.” I *hate* tea, Herbert Dune grumbles to himself again. Cold *or* hot. But I’ll swallow it for the deal.

—–

“Well this is simply *delightful*. I’m glad you like the tea.”

“It is so so delicious, Madame Silver. I haven’t had tea like that in a long time. Perhaps back before I joined the company.”

“How many years have you been there now? Five, six? I’m glad you got your promotion. That way you finally get to meet *me*.”

“I am glad to be in your humble service, Madame Silver. I’ve heard so many good things about you.” He pauses significantly, hoping the old codger will *finally* get to the dollhouse and needed repairs. Of course he’s going to try to sell her a brand new dollhouse… at a significant discount of course. But pushing upgrades instead of expensive repair is standard practice in the business. In any business, really. Those based on pure capitalism and money and greed. And certainly like Doll Pedlars, Inc.

She flattens out her skirt and stands up. “*Well*. I suppose we should get to that dollhouse, eh? Back up the stairs we go!”

—–

“Yes, I think I see the problem, Madame Silver. But it’s a bad one. We’ll have to take the whole dollhouse back to the office for repairs. *Or*… we could sell you an upgrade for a cut rate price. Maybe save you money in the end. Your choice of course. But this looks like a 02350 malfunction of the circuit board. I’d highly recommend the upgrade. I’ll deliver it to you in person, make sure everything works perfectly before leaving.”

“Oooo. Look at that fluffy feather bed up there on the next level, Mr. Dune,” Madame Silver deviates. “I’m sooo sleepy. I could use a nap. Could you also use a nap? We could sleep on opposite sides. Unless…”

Oh. She’s *that* type of old codger, thought Herbert Dune. A cougar codger. Chris withheld that valuable piece of information about the work.

He pauses to consider. He decides to be frank. “Will it help seal the deal?”

“It *might*” She giggles in that grating way again. Herbert Dune makes a note to not say things that might induce it again.

“Alright. But I have to be back at the office by 8.”

“Make it 9.” She giggles once more.

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winner

“I don’t like that scene, Rabbit 02.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to change the game.”

“Do what you have to do, Rabbit 01.”

“Orange?”

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nightmare

“Man I can’t stop playing this *game*.”

—–

“All right Jill MacGill. Where’s the sacred orange? Is it behind trailer number 01, 02, or 03? Choose or lose.”

“Wait. Let me take a picture of that pathetic expression.”

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reunion 03

“So is this her?” Ruby asked without a hint of jealousy. The Green (Eyed) Monster.

“Yes. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” I wish I were a 100th that beautiful, Ruby then thinks. Eraserhead Man was thinking at the same time: But not as beautiful as you are right now, Young Ruby. EM is certainly smitten (!).

“This is Smithy’s House,” EM then declares. “Not finished. We also don’t know who’s going to play Smithy. Maybe the man in the bright green coat who came on the set earlier. But maybe not.”

“Where are all the others, Pencil? (for that was what Ruby always called EM since their days back on New Island — Pencil)

EM points to his eraser topped noggin with a stubby arm. “In here.” He waits an appropriate beat. “Nah, just kidding. They’re in the southeast corner of Fishers Island. Doing my bidding.”

“Gwin included?” Ruby tried to word her thoughts properly. “She… returned to the set?”

“Yes. Sorry you can’t play the part, Ruby. But we have something special cooked up for you. Did I ever tell you I have a doppleganger too? Some call him Penn Mann. Some just penhead, because he’s quite irksome. But lately he’s been sporting a pink mohawk and disguising himself as a she. Under this guise (he’s known as) Chuck Cheese. Sometimes Heidi, which I suppose indicates his ability to hide well. But we’ve struck a deal. Man to man-as-woman. I get the southeast corner of Fishers Island, he gets Wallytown of Fishers Island.”

Ruby pondered on this new information. “Then who gets Fisher?”

“Ahh, so logical, so precise you are. Yes, our Orange Boy. Orange itself. That is the conundrum. To answer that we must first go back to when Herbert Dune was just a boy on the threshold of adolescence. Or just beyond, I guess. Rounding a corner. Seeing something earlier on that day that he didn’t understand. A flesh and blood woman turned into a doll. Heidi — or whatever she or he’s called — insisted that he — or she — direct the shoot.”

—–

“Do you have the orange makeup on all over the appropriate spot, Chloe?”

“Yeees.” Chloe Price was being paid quite handsomely for this scene, but still her voice had an edge. She was nervous. She never had done anything close to a nude scene for a film, never exposed her midriff for anything. Oh, there was that pool scene in “Life is Strange”. But that was all innocent fun and games. This is different. She could back out… but she was already inside.

“Alright. Young Herbert Dune — George — you come around the corner just there and then spot Chloe. You slink back around the corner. Chloe doesn’t see you. The case is opaque, not transparent. Here… let me set the mood better.”

—–

“So the case is darkened. All except that circular opening. And then, Young Herbert can’t help himself, takes another look. The legend of All Orange is born.”

—–

“I’m giving you back your 50,000 lindens, EM. I couldn’t do it. Director Heidi took my place. She was a better height for it anyway.” Chloe Price huffed. “You don’t know *what* I went through in ‘Life is Strange’. Creepy stuff. I couldn’t do it,” she reinforced.

EM pats her hand. He’s finally breaking through that tough exterior. “There there, friend. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here on *my* set.”

That day, Chloe may have fallen a little bit for Eraserhead Man as well.

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reunion 02

Jeez I haven’t felt this good since Mary left, Eraserhead Man thinks by Ruby’s side. I could *marry* this girl. Yes: marry.

So he remembers the disappearance of his wife now too.

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reunion

Young Ruby had somehow made it all the way to EM’s Urbane Blue set in the heart of Meat City without compromising her integrity.

But all she found inside was a floating, slightly glowing Eraserhead Man, deep deep deep within. No Herbert Dune, no Jill MacGill/Gwin or Chloe Price or Benny and Jer Horne or Franklin Bowers and his former wife Jenny — lets go with Patsy — or Rabbit 03 or the Blue Yip Yip. Only the director of it all.

He was the dreamer dreaming the dream all along. The blue structure acting as a coffee shop within was a portal indeed.

With no role found to be played — Gwin’s vacant part was a red herring — Ruby had no choice but to return to her empire. What a long journey in vain!

No Timmy when she returns (dead), no Tin Tin (married, or so she thought). Just her and Madame Silver, battling out the final days. Should she wake the dreamer? Maybe that would be a better solution, she realized. But *gradually*.

She kept tap tap tapping at his wooden yellow shoulder, each tap a little stronger. But even after a hundred of these, we would still consider the gesture quite light of touch. Ruby was subtle like that. Quality over quantity indeed for this one.

The dreamer awoke like a fresh spring morning; turned to faced his rouser. “Ahh, Young Ruby,” he cooed. “A sight for sore ears.” Now maybe he can toss aside those hearing aids for good.

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6 times

2:55:

“No, there’s no plans for a prison in these schematics, Mr. Man.”

“EM! Call me EM! Everybody does!”

“Um, EM.”

“How ’bout Smithy’s place?! Is it finished?!”

Rob Reeder and Ted Totter just stared at each other, unable to decipher what Eraserhead Man was on about now.

“Um… Smithy?”

“Yeah. And Ghostwood! Ghostwood Estates Mental Hospital! Audrey’s there!”

Rob Reeder and Ted Totter exchanged looks. “Do you want us… to *add* these things, Mr. Man… EM?”

EM paused dramatically, then: “YES!”

—–

“Where *is* he?” groused Chloe Price, sitting in the blue chair . “Where’s our famous director?”

“He said 3 o’clock,” returned Jill MacGill from the red one. “Be patient.”

Chloe checked her watch, then nodded. “All right, all right.”

“Only 3:05 now.”

“O-*kay*.”

—–

3:15:

“I’m tired of looking at this poster and water fountain. I’m going to roam about the place. Freely.”

“NO,” commanded Jill. “EM said to *stay put* this time. He’ll be here shortly. Sometimes he goes on… tangents. As you well know. He said 3 so it will probably be 3:30. Just give him time. Don’t leave me in this spooky place *alone*.”

“Spooky?” questioned Chloe to Jill.

“I meant just: place. I suppose it’s not that spooky.” But Jill was shaking within. She’d seen a ghost here and another one could come.

—–

—–

3:35:

Jill relented out of boredom and strategy. “All right, tell me about this game you found near the Horne Inn. The one EM left you.”

Suddenly alert, Chloe’s head bounced up off her raised knee. “I’ll do better than that.”

—–

3:45:

“Wrong building!”

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dammed 03

“What does it say in your little red book about me? About us?”

“Let’s see,” improvised Jill MacGill through Gwin again. “‘The Story of Doris and Gwin’. Sorry: ‘Gwin and Doris.’ Says here we’ll be married in 2 years. Will stay with Aunt Sally until the crops are harvested. Then we’ll be free to live out our days wherever we choose. But, again, says here: Wallytown. That’s why I need the book. To learn all about our future home.”

“All right, all right,” cedes Doris Drane across from her. “We’ll go back to the library and get the other book. The big blue one.”

Gwin rushes over and kisses Doris full on the lips, then sits beside her, holding her hand. Yeah, this is some *real* acting, both actresses think (hint: they despise each other).

—–

“Smells weird in here. Old book smell, I suppose.”

“Shhh. I’m trying to read.”

“I thought you were just going to steal that book. Not read the entire thing while we’re here.”

“I’m reading up on the part about the wall. The Green Monster. So… shhh.”

Doris Drane kept quiet for a bit, then started again.

“Never heard of a tree eating wall,” Doris rehashed some of what Gwin was saying before. “Glin or Glinda, Gliph or Glyph — with an i and a y. Why do these cypress trees always come as, um, twinned pairs of the opposite sex that don’t, er, don’t know anything about the other half?”

“It’s only one tree,” corrected Gwin. “It can appear at different times in different places and think it is the same. Like I could sit over here and talk, and then we could switch chairs and I could talk over there. But to the tree, it’s as if the switch never happened. They’re always where they are.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Doris noisily scooted back her uncomfortable wooden chair and stood up. “I’ll be freely roaming the grounds if you need me. I’ll check back in about, say, 30 minutes?”

Gwin is absorbed in what she’s currently reading (trees have 2 souls!) and doesn’t respond. But then improvises: “Watch your navel!”

God I hate that woman, Chloe Price thinks. And EM is letting her get away with all this!

—–

I wonder who’s actually sacrificed here? Doris ponders, laying in the center of an elevated stone circle. Trees? Fish? Fish people? Her mind is running wild.

Huh (mysterious floating pylon).

“Hello. Anyone home?” But Doris needn’t had worried because no one lives here.

After waiting the appropriate time, she goes inside and sits at the dining room table. I hope those are candy bunnies on that platter over there, she thinks.

Hmm. 2960. Probably another empty building. I’m not even going to knock this time. Feeling free to roam indeed.

Lemons and lime; that reminds me of something.

This is a little different.

Don’t mind if I do.

What’s this? My foot must have accidentally activated the screen. Doris studied the graphic.

“Gunn Mobile Trailer Park,” she spoke aloud, then saw the byline at the bottom. “Your Darkness.” She settled back in the executive chair. “A game. I love computer games.” So she just decides to start a two person round with herself.

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dammed 02

“Ah yes, I see them now. Fish. Hence Fish Dam.”

“Salmon, to be more specific. Heading 15 meters up to Fish Lake — also known as Lake Three — to reproduce at or near the very place they themselves were spawned. Says here this is due to olfactory memory. I think that means they can smell their way back to their original home.”

Doris Drane looked down at Gwin. “You shouldn’t have stolen that book about the island from that library.”

“The About Land description read: Feel free to roam about the grounds and explore,” countered her red haired companion sprawled out on the green ground beside her. “Didn’t say anything about not taking anything or leaving everything as is. It just said to go wherever you want, do what you want. I could have exposed my midriff to the world if I’d chosen. But I didn’t.”

“Yeah. Your choice.” The actresses playing Doris Drane and Gwin were improvising beyond the shooting script now. Behind the cameras, Eraserhead Man couldn’t help but smile.

“We have to take it back,” implored Doris Drane, back on script. “We have to go back to the library.”

“Good,” states the defiant Gwin. Maybe I’ll steal a couple *more* books while we’re there. There’s a big blue one about this place called Wallytown I’d like to have in my possession. Maybe I’ll take that one. That might be enough.”

“Just stop it, Gwin. And stop bending back the spine on that red one. It could be rare — we may have to pay!”

“50,000 lindens do you think?” EM smiles again. Keep going you Jill MacGill, he thinks. Just keep on keeping on.

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