They called it the Cross Arm of the Starfish Lake or Sea (or whatever) because of the balance of the 2 castles, Princess to the right and Dairocha to the left, coupled with the twins on the vertical axis, north and south, talking and debating about such on opposite coasts. One was right and the other was wrong. Then the situation flipped at the arm: the right one was wrong and visa versa. It all evens out if you figure in the castles… and the Marilyns. “Dot dot dot,” I can hear the opposite say in my head. “Enough with the dots.” And perhaps he was right (not). Also: “Enough with the parentheses.”
At any rate, we need to get back to the original Marilyn and the Monster book stolen from the Dairocha library by Axis-Windmilll and Alysha
Mae Raspberry. Also: “Enough (…) of the crossouts.”
Jesus H. Christ writing is hard!
Deals were being swung all day. Belinda Mae Appletree called her mom, asking for a raise in allowance from 5000 to 10. Dirk Besmurk wondered if he could even afford a fish taco from this central vendor after purchasing a loan on a Ferarri 5000 series from Jebadiah Bush, a former snake oil salesman at Barkley’s hired by the Princess to do her dirty work. And the Princess? Well, we’ve discussed the Princess of the Diagonal already in this here photo-novel (30) but apparently this one is different. No pictures this time — just rumors. Gossip has her as a ditzy blonde, centered by a pole that revolves around and around like a rotisserie chicken being devoured, bit by bit, by onlooking lingering eyes before its time. 15 she was when she inherited the castle from her aunt’s mom’s cousin, one Felicity Day Daghound of the Dartmoor Harbour Bay area — thereabouts. She was just too young for the responsibility, in other words, to be thrust out into the world of Mann at such a tender age. It basically ate her alive; close enough.
They caught up with each other, twin to twin. “Have you heard the latest about the castle?” the black and blue one said to the red and white one. “Dairocha?” the other spoke back. “I’ve heard about the incident in the library and the theft of the all important Monster book. Marilyn was not pleased.” “*Marilyn*,” the first said, “is at the Princess Castle. You mean the Princess Castle, right?” Wrong.
The book flips back.
Could he pull this off? It was suppose to be a display car, crown jewel of the exhibit, but Vince Wonderboy had a big bright idea to lure Apri Cott in here, not the brightest of the new crop, and, most importantly, the wealthiest, or potentially so if all the family money rolls his way. “You won’t even *need* money for the tuition part of your education with this baby,” he pitched under the pitched tent this car would center if it weren’t for that darn pole in the middle. If only they could make (the object) invisible. “You’ll settle down on the bay or something with a rich heiress and whittle the days away sipping ginger beer and eating Toasty-O’s — I think they’re up to irregular shapes like strings and loops by this time,” he sidetracked. Back to it: “5000,” he said. “You get your own oxygen tank with it, right there in the center between the two seats. You’ll be really high up; you’ll need it. We’ll throw that in for free.”
“I’ll *take* it,” he rapidly said after the “free” came out of the car loaner agent’s mouth. Fish come to papa, Vince W. thought, imagining himself down on that same pretend bay with the same pretend heiress. One day…
He kept waiting for the red book to right itself as he read it in the sand down at the beach. Someone approached: an opposite. “I will take over now,” he said confidently, as if his black and blue color demanded it.
A new crop of students arrived at the Princess Castle School for Design and Wealth. You’d think they would have learned their lesson after what happened to Dimmy and Marilyn last semester down at the end of Route 12 but, no. The VW Beetles of the world would still in all likelihood have their backs turned toward them while the glitzier ones demanded all the attention. And the car loaner agents laughed all the way to the bank (by the cliffs (by the sea)).
“Rev it up and see what you think,” agent Scott Johnson said to Tommy Twostep within, fresh from the Outer Rim where fast and furious cars like this were few and far between. He was dazzled by the array here. Daddy would understand the extra cost, he rationalized while crossing 6K rpms heading toward 7.