‘”I come here as a representative of the great, honorable Blue Feather Douglas, Marcus Fox Smartville. Who do you represent?”
“Also the forces of good and evil,” Marcus shot back smartly. “Your Mama in my case.”
“*Your* Mama. Good enough I suppose. Anyway, let’s hash out a deal. And I don’t mean drugs.”
“Of course.” Smart again.
“I should apologize for my protege Eighty-eight not showing up. The astrologer gave her some bad news. Turns out — get this — the stars say she’s an *Aquarius*”.
“The dreaded sign which seems to be water but is actually air. The most misunderstood of them all. I think the stress opened her up to that flu everyone ’round here seems to be coming down with.”
“You feel okay? Did the breakfast help any? Sometimes when I eat…”
“I didn’t eat,” she protested. “I *nibbled*. The only, real way to a really long life is nibbling. Full stomach foods will get you killed by the age of 88. Unless you’re mowed down by a gun earlier on. Like those people in Gunn City, Missouri, US of A. Now I like a vigilante as much as the next duchess or duke, but I prefer corrections through verbal acerbity rather than, well, steel on bone.”
“I agree. Wholeheartedly. Pen over sword — that kind of thing.”
“The tongue is mightier than the quill,” Tracy Austin (Wheeler Wilson) fleshed out. “Nothing like a good tongue lashing (for corrections). You should know all about that.”
Marcus Fox Smartville sticks out his tongue here, revealing the diamond inlaid steel ring piercing it. “Sthiny,” he says while his tongue is still projecting, also pointing to the object. Not so smart now. Something is actually quite wrong with the male in the current post. He had a breakdown in his early twenties and some say his mind hasn’t quite recovered, and that he’s actually more sucker than smart. Like
Sunklands Sucklands sucker, reading patterns (synchronicity) where they don’t exist (randomness). Your Mama thinks this. And, behind her, Grey Scale Kimball, who they needed to talk about next.
“Why didn’t you say you represented Grey Scale Kimball instead?” asked Tracy Austin on cue, indicating the house around them. Grey’s House.
I can answer that. Because Kensington’s Turtle Hill, aka The Green Turtle, had been skipped over. Negotiations concerning the War of Aggressions have moved to Cassandra City in the Deep South, where correct history will always place them. Corrections again… tongue lashing. Your Mama gave Marcus Fox Smartville an earful on that hill. He wonders when the smarting will stop. Not here for certain. Not in this Deep South residence.
(to be continued?)