“See. I *told* you if we waited long enough he would change colors.”
“Very good, Sandy. I need to tell a story now.”
“Go ahead, Wheeler, um, Wendy,” encouraged Sandy. It was her turn after all.
“I was wheeling my way from Picturetown, trying not to be late for the Blue Feather meeting with Baker and, er, the other one. The green toy fellow.”
“You know his name,” Sandy complained.
“Anyway, I see my name on the side of a small square house as it comes into view around another house…”
“Lemme guess. Which has the same name.”
“Do you want my apples yet?” asks Harrison Ford Jett opposite Sandy now, waiting his turn. He was eager to give them up. He wanted to be a man for Charlene.
“Not yet. We already have the orange and that’s enough for now,” answered Sandy. “Bananas: not needed.”
“So I’ve heard.” Harrison Ford Jett glances sideways at his own partner, his own bestie. They both knew something the other 2 didn’t. That Charlene the Punk was… well it should be obvious by the shirt. We’ll get a pic in a moment. Back to Picturetown and Wendy’s story who is the same as Wheeler.
“In that frozen moment, it was then I noticed a (red) car on the other side of the road from the buildings with my name, also coming into clear view from behind a passing truck. Before the obscuration I knew it was an ordinary car. Now, after the passing, it had a flat. Then *I* had a flat. I became the car.”
“Carrcassonnee?” Harrison Ford Jett guessed, turning his attention to the story and away from his gnawing apples, those chafing, gnawing things in his shirt-blouse. His head pivots to Charlene. “Carrcassonnee is a deity of the Temple…”
“I know who Carrcassonnee is. She’s talking about a car.” Let’s get a picture of that shirt in the pause here.
Oh well, turns out we can’t see it from this angle. Sandy presses the issue on. “Blue again,” he says while staring at the tiny snowman in the midst of it all, formerly All Orange. “We’re losing the reader’s attention.” He wondered if he remembered that line correctly. Must be director Eraserhead Man breaking the 4th wall once more. He glanced at the camera, pretending it was the reader he mentioned. He complimented himself for the improvisation before fully coming back into character.
“I looked over at the square building again. My name was obscured once more (around the corner). I knew I couldn’t make it to the meeting on time. Then, in a flash, everything changed. A boy came by on a skateboard.”
(to be continued?)