Daily Archives: November 1, 2023

00400601

“A partnership?! That’s, frankly, something I didn’t expect from this meeting (!). Say Golden Goddess has already signed on to all this?”

“Yeah. Said she foresaw it in her cards.”

“Nas too?”

“Right. Start of a chain. Gang, I suppose.” Marsha “Pink” Krakow, the originator of all, slightly smiles, harking back to prison days and years. Doesn’t want to go back there. Thus: this.

“They’ll try to crack down on us,” professional dancer Bun Bun warns. “The men of this town. ‘How *dare* the women try to organize,’ and so on.”

“My mother can handle that,” came the reply. “She’s still the mayor of this here meat town after all.” Marsha knew she was negotiating a deal with Utah as they speak. Revisionist historian named Roy Coy who has a big brain about his head. He’ll need it!

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00400516

“One more haunted house and we’ll be done with Millbank for another year, troupe,” spoke their obvious leader, front and center and gazing inward to begin gauging the spookiness of the place. Toddles. Ready to explain to them what’s actually going on with their now intertwined relationships. Just after this — she’s curious about the final twist here, which she knows is coming but hides the details from her higher, psychic self in order to be surprised. What’s the point of existing if you know *everything*, she reasons with it.

“Doesn’t look too scary,” offered Vain and Artery Boyy beside her. “Not like some of the others.”

“The mortuary, yeah,” said Rock on her other side, and stifled an urge to barf again at the mere thought of the gruesome scenes and things found within. The others knew it was a mistake to take him in but there were no distractions outside like a sandbox or something. He could wander off and get lost if left by himself in that way. But still: the damage was done to the 46 year old man from Nantucket, the opposite of Toddles in many ways since he has a child’s brain inside a grownup’s body.

Toddles looked around the yard: no distractions again. “Are you going to be okay, Rock? We don’t have to go in. We can end our tour here, go back to Big Sandy with the satisfaction that we visited everything except this last building, the most central one still but, like VA Boyy said, not that impressive on the outside. We can basically say we saw it all, we finished it all off.”

“I — want to be complete,” he said, wiping sweat from this forehead. “I  — want to go in.”

“Okay,” said Toddles. “If you’re *sure*.”

And here comes the twist. When they all went inside, seats seem to be arranged for them as if in a play, include Rock’s at an old upright piano. It was here he discovered a middle name: Roll. Rockabilly star R.R. Ramby was born. After brushing away the cobwebs he played beautifully, even though he only took a few lessons in childhood before being written off by his parents as useless and not worth throwing money away on. With this different form of music he automatically found himself banging away at to alleviate the fear aspect, he would have the last say.

All this was set up by the rock star that came before him, shrine remaining upstairs. Roll over Beethoven. Here comes a new one.

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