Monthly Archives: August 2021

August 4, 2021 · 6:14 am

redneck trailer

“Interesting choice of shows, Martha. Do you like aliens?”

“Dunno, whatofit?” Her voice was raspy, as if she’d smoked a 100 cigarettes a day for her 45 years of life. At least the days she was able to reach her mouth with her hand in a coordinated way, that is, beyond infancy and early childhood. She’d had a rough life, and didn’t expect to live past 65 or so. She wasn’t planning on retirement. Her husband Jack was around, but in a wheelchair over at the Asylum. He’d seen things in the dark, heard rumors. So, yeah, she was interested in aliens. She was *studying* them. Must keep deflecting Agent 47 or whatever the f-ck they’re up to down at the station. “Want some pieee?” Pie was code for sexy good times in town. Some of these smart looking ones liked her type. In fact she had a website; must make ends meet *somehow*. Plus she had to have money for her cigarettes. Where were her cigarettes?

The agent was staring unblinkingly at her. She hated when they did that; maybe did something to their eyes in childhood. And she’s heard they need very little sleep. They stay up and read manga most of the night, analyzing it to pieces. Or so she’s heard. “Sooooooo. Taking that for a no?”

“Martha,” he starts firmly. “You know us agents accumulate knowledge on the residents of this town. It’s like coral; my brain is like coral, *our* brain. We are a hive.”

“Soooooo. Nooooooo?”

He stared at the tv screen again. He stared a very long time, then: “How many minutes for the information I need?”

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Tagged as Agent 47^*, ASYLUM, Martha Ram^^~~~~~~!, Martha Westinghouse^^

August 3, 2021 · 6:56 am

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Hookah here, hookah over there (on the other porch). The Anomaly grows. Not sure I can complete the story in this novel. Code name: Caterpillar, perhaps WORM (WURM). Freshly formed Martin at the window may know. Martin, Luther.

He moves inside, takes a seat at the bar. The glowing birthday hat and Giant for a Day blue t-shirt gave away his identity.

“I’m on the other side of the counter now, ‘Umbriel, Stu’. You serve *me*.”

“You tell him Martin!” encouraged another new figure from his position next to the door, a gatekeeper of sorts.

“That’s all right — Luther is it?” Stu Umbriel guesses, taking the switcheroo with the person formerly known as Chief in stride. “I’ll get my twin sister Loo to help with the bar. Right over there she lives.” Stu points beyond the house next door now set up with a duplicate hookah to his — and even on the same spot on the porch — to the dark opening on the eastern edge of Swamp Lake, not big enough to become a sea and getting further from that designation back to out-and-out swamp every day. Atrophism. Maybe that has something to do with the Anomaly as well.

“We’re not identical as you know, Luther, but close,” he furthers. The Sewer hole beckons.

In checking back through my posts, I see I have overlooked mention of Paper Soap’s Swamp Lake up until now. Here’s an overhead view, ~~Chief~~ Stu’s bar toward the north next to the sheriff’s office where the Anomaly was first spotted. Probably should catch up with chef-inspector Petty to see how he’s doing.

“WURM” he spoke with conviction at the meeting still going just north of the Swamp Lake bar, naming the thing at last. “And spell that with a U and omit the E. I think.” Conviction wavering, apparently. Missing letters will do that to you.

Gee Cat 02, now just Gee Cat period — having ate the other — prepares to move inside.

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Tagged as Agent 47^*, Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O'Pine^*++@, BEANSTALK, Chef/Inspector Petty^*+!, Gee Cat 02^^$, Gee Cat^*, Loo Umbriel^^, Luther Martin^*%%, Stu Umbriel^*

August 2, 2021 · 10:36 am

Yelloo!

After work, Wheeler returned to the theatre to watch more of Kane, studying each clap closely. Stu Umbriel mosied in, and seeing Wheeler down front suddenly had a hankering for a frozen one. Kolya (aka Ben aka Gus) came in immediately afterward — they either walked or drove over together — and then the last of their party sauntered inside as well, a person they derogatorily called Chief, because of his Indian heritage. Thing is he sat down on *top* of Kolya and kind of merged with him, Devil power showing its pitchforked ways again. Stu didn’t look over, just glad it wasn’t him this time. Chief had been taken over for sure. Maybe it’s the common redness, he speculated while woofing down another popped kernel. He watched Wheeler pop in hers. Maybe they could pop some common food together sometime, he thinks, seeing something different in the claps as well. Just keep studying, he said to himself. We’ll compare notes later. As soon as I can ditch the Devil Boys.

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Tagged as Axis/Tropp-Opp/Campbell O'Pine^*++@, Campbell O'Pine (Opp)^*, Edwardston/Edward Daigle^*+&, Kolya/Pepi/Can^*+, Stu Umbriel^*, Tropp^*, Wheeler Wilson^^++\@

August 2, 2021 · 9:47 am

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(News)papers whirl together with leaves in a perpetual dust devil down at the tracks near the tunnel, reminding us of yellow journalism…

… in association with perpetually clapping *Kane* at the all day all night theatre just on the other side of the square with the “Pooping Pigeon” statue, as some locals have started calling it, blocked from our view by a mossy double oak with ivy in that picture up above. Or make that here:

And here’s Kane’s hands in the theatre, not to be confused with canes in hands, as in Dr. Mouse’s.

Checkered face Wheeler with him now, out on break from the banana, Mouse points again, making the connection.

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August 2, 2021 · 9:05 am

00270609

“You know, young laddie, I was going to be big. I don’t mean psychiatrist big. *Big* big, as in owning my own franchise of Pooping Pigeons. Well, someone decided to drop a big big *poop* on that idea. Came back on me, all my past, all my *medical* doctoring. I had to switch doctors, in that I became a psychiatrist instead of a physician. It was just that dramatic a change.” He pointed his cane in the direction of the tunnel and the train station now, past the statue with the pooping pigeon on its shoulder that triggered this whole soliloquy.

“Gee spot — right over there. Came in the tunnel. The Asylum sits on top of it.”

“Did you know,” young Peter File spoke absentmindedly, not really paying attention to the doctor’s ramblings, “I can balance this little paper hat on my nose?” He blew at it with his mouth; the object didn’t move. He sat up, looked at the doctor as if just waking up. “Paper,” he spoke more seriously, taking in the landscape. “We’re in *Paper*.”

“Been here for a while, yes. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Things *changed*.”

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Tagged as ASYLUM, Dr. Mouse^*++$, PAPER HAT, Peter File^*!

August 1, 2021 · 9:54 am

98 to 48 is 50

“Oh he was one Black Hole of a guy, sucking everything in in his way,” he spoke despairingly later about his much more famous sibling of sorts. Some say they are the same — he begs to differ, this *Kelly*. History changes and the Whites don’t like it. Buildy Bob assumes a cone position atop the truck again, showing his true colors. He cusses like a mo fo and doesn’t turn red, because there was only black and white for him. And he smelled a skunk. And he could read the newspaper headlines in front of his crude face with his rude mouth. “Dewey (F-cking) Wins”. It was all a big fat (circular) lie — yellow journalism. We better get back to Paper Soap. But first…

“Hey, watch the f-ck out!”

—–

“We meet again Yoyo or Dada. Better let me speak with Claude or Claudette. We’re getting kind of near the end, need to start wrapping things up here so we can move on to the 28th. Some months — well, February — only have such. We’re becoming a whole damn month Yoyo-dada. Better move aside, let me talk to the golden cow.”

“Assure you here he not is,” rasped YD. Dr. Mouse hit him with his own cane to sweep him away, clear path ahead.

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Tagged as Baby Yoyo/Dada^^~~~~~^*~~~~~, Buildy Bob^*~~~~~$, ClaudeGTAV^*+^^=$, Dr. Mouse^*++$, Mick Mouse^*+$, Steamboat Kelly^*~~~~~$, The Mann^*+$

August 1, 2021 · 9:10 am

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Buildy Bob assumes a cone position atop the ice cream truck. “You don’t belong the f-ck here, I’m sensing.”

“No,” she stated plainly. BB was about the only character here she trusted. Crude and rude, true, but that showed his true colors, rainbow exposed. Diversity. No white out.

“Where’re you from, then, Pinhead?” He’d been calling her Pinhead ever since he saw diminutive Mary PipPIN land on her HEAD from the perspective of his roaming camera eye. Most, maybe all of the other characters in this here Land o’ Dreams don’t roam like that; stay fixed in their position inside their head and body. Not BB. He wanted to know the bigger perspective.

“I landed in a balloon,” she decided to say. “From Kansas,” she almost followed, but then remembered Omaha was actually in ~~Oklahoma~~ Nebraska. Or was it? “Nebraska I’m from,” she finalized. “World’s Fair.” State fair she meant there but she let the stated mistake stand. She should have thought things through sooner, maybe written down her lines beforehand. At least she had the (built in) black hair for the ears. And where were her ears? There.

“Oh we’ll get Oz don’t you worry,” he said a little later about another potential assimilation, using “we” in an ironic sense. Why do they put up with him? she wondered again. Allow a breathing, walking Achilles Heel right in their midst?

“It’s too early,” she corrected. “The (Baum) books are copyright free. Plumly is different.”

“Don’t start with me about *Ruth*.” And where *was* Ruth, BB thought bitterly, looking around as if she could appear magically in their immediate vicinity. And perhaps she could. This was a Magic Kingdom after all; anything goes, as long as you worship the White. “Have you seen Willy, yet?” he then asked, thinking of the only other interesting *deviation* from this parade of madness. “Riding a steamboat. But I think he’s changed his name to Kelly to protect the innocent and all. Which means him — primarily. And me I suppose. He’s a pretty decent fellow, but scared and nervous, as he should be. They can’t fully assimilate him because he represents some kind of *ur* character, a primordial man-mouse of some sort. Don’t ask me how to explain all the details of it. It’s just they can’t fully *touch* him. He remains both black and white. Pansy knows.”

Pansy, thought Alysha here. I haven’t heard that name for a long long time. Not since childhood.

(to be continued)

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Tagged as Alysha^^%, Buildy Bob^*~~~~~$, ICE CREAM, Steamboat Kelly^*~~~~~$

August 1, 2021 · 8:36 am

Pippin on head (Pinhead)

“You’ve lost your supreme whiteness, Rabbit. Better get back to the dressing room and find that head.”

“Yes, mum.”

“Sir,” she corrected. Although a woman she was playing a man. Always.

Listening grown up Alysha was in disguise now. The black hair aided. See what I can do when unaided, she thought to the group around her, having purposefully misplaced the White Rabbit’s head with her mind. Ear Power go!