Hawaiian Punched

I suppose it all started when Blutus tried to cross the road to get to the other side. He never made it; run over by a blue-black car of dubious design and specs, unmarked all the way from bumper to fender. He’d just made a call to the police. He had the information they needed to solve the puzzle of a case they were facing head on. Just on his way over he was to make his report. When this happened, *SPLAT*. They never really got the blue-purple blood off the pavement, a permanent testimony of sorts to the stain and strain (and drain) this put on the town. Toppsity was never the same. This is where it started most likely. The War.

Elements were involved of course; when weren’t they in conflicts involving Toppsity and covens in general. The fires that ultimately consumed Gabby’s brother Amos Truth and prevented him from regenerating one more time were put out by Marilyn’s Niagara waterfall tumbling and roaring over the western ridge. Earth moved north to south and consumed sign posts and everything underneath that level. The Ministry of Soiled Clothes was set up near the laundromat. Air and leaves and air through leaves crowded around and basically enclosed innocent residents in their harmless apartment units over here and just there, like insidious kudzu. Aether had split the scene, unable to fit in anywhere. Spirit was gone, spirits were low. People were taking uppers everywhere just to try to reach the surface of the soil and not be taken under. Reds and yellows were shot most of the day to decrease pervasive dopamine and increase lacking serotonin. Toppsity was in a state. Maybe Utah (or Indiana (or Pennsylvania)). Where’s those string beans?

Sacky doll waited for his master to come home again but it never happened. Amos was gone from this world.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0601, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Toppsity

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