Monthly Archives: April 2025

00460408

“Hey,” I said while approaching, noticing he was looking across the road at it. “Know anything about it?”

“Wellsprings?” he said, with head now cocked sideways in a listening position. Could just as easily have been Welles, hmph. But, directly: Hey. Thus my opening. Did he get it? I urged him to continue.

“Yeah, Wellsprings will do.”

“I can do Welles too,” he said back cryptically. Another me! I recognized.

“How about Hey?” I said, splitting the difference. “As in, let’s say, Heywood.”

“Overarching.” And with this word he moved on down the street further into The Glen, seemingly concerned with other matters now. My matters took me to Vista Del Rey less than a minute walk from here. All part of Heywood, though. Including Wellsprings.

On the other side of town in Watson, Mysti tries to resurrect dead boyfriend Welles in her Small China esoterica shop through various channels and potions and stuff. Will she succeed? Another: we’ll see.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0046, 0408, C2077, Heyworth, Small China

00460407

“What I *saw*, V, was the vision of a robot. Not to be cliche, but a robot from the future. Jonny knows.”

“Huh?” I say, knowing this would prompt an explanation.

“My canal channel told me this robot, who is described as being female, saw something that greatly disturbed her which she couldn’t help but record at the time. Which became the recording for all time. She saw herself. In a video. As a human. Doing something she couldn’t do but wished to do. Both Japanese, but 1/2 of 1 being. She had split herself in two to experience this thing but had forgotten about it until that moment. Half Japanese — remember Jonny said that about her. She was full Japanese but Jonny was actually picking up on the split. I was even given a location for the, um, reunification. Place called The Burg. Ever hear of it?”

“No,” I said without emotion, all that busy dealing with the ramifications of what Mysti was saying. I couldn’t rap my brain around it! Yet, deep down, I knew it was true. Because, deep down: there was Jonny, smiling at me in his wise guy way. I preferred Panama but he liked Lexi (=Judy). Yet here came an X factor. Literally.

“Bimbo is the name,” declared Mysti in front of me between the two magenta balls held by that statue she worshipped, what, 4 times daily? Maybe 8. “Got that too from my source. They said that would be enough for you to find out the truth.”

“Truth is a relative term,” I said back without thinking, that being busy too with the ramifications.

“Too true,” said Mysti to end. Time to get busy. Better meet Judy Lexi down at the Afterlife. Because I’d figured that part out too. Lexi wasn’t my potential lover. She was my sister who lived in the big city, me from out in the Nomad sticks. Separated, when, childhood? I had to ask.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0407, C2077, J-Town, Jeogeot, Small China, The Burg

the man with the plan (canal)

Phil knows.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0046, 0406, C2077, Kabusie

00460405

I took another day off to explore the town more. I’d taken a lot of days off lately. Perhaps I was already pretty bored with the mayor’s job, I don’t know. I found myself wandering… and wondering. Here I sit in Downtown’s subway station watching a train that never stops. Where is it going? Where’s it been? Never here apparently, or never gathered people here or dropped them off. I move on…

… to an abandoned petrol station, wandering and then wondering about the name Clyde on the window over there behind the tires. I knew the town was formerly called Blue Ball or Blue Balls so that didn’t seem to fit, despite the name Clyde being applied to a lot of towns across our fair country of America back in the day. Like one in Ohio where famed American author Sherwood Anderson grew up, along with U.S. independently affiliated senator and so-called father of the TVA George Norris and a couple of other famous people, including a Civil War Union general I can’t recall the name of.

I know, I’ll go ask Charlene. But maybe Emily would be a better target, having been here in The Burg longer. What’s her story, why did she move off the Makah Indian Reservation after being raised there? Something about Wolvie? — probably something about Wolvie. So that ropes in Charlene who’s the sister of what clearly is a shapeshifter in this here town, probably a werewolf by the sound of it. And he recognized me (!). In that service station with the black and white wolf poster over in Juho. I wonder how Newt is doing over there (her thoughts deflect). I wonder if he’s done anything with Newtonia since I’ve been… away.

That graffiti artist over yonder (she triangulates between useless subway and abandoned petrol station, a right one it appears). Maybe they will know something about Clyde. Worth a try.

She approaches, notices the cigarette in both his mouth and spraying hand at once. James Smoker he quickly becomes in her mind. Until she learns the truth.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0405, Jeogeot, Juho, Nawt Vaya, Ohio, The Burg, Washington

00460404

She was already absorbed in preparing for another case with an appropriate upgrade of clothes for a richer client. “Goodbye Ms. Brown. Do you need Wanda to help you back to the teleporter?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks!”

—–

“And so that’s how the whole thing started, the whole investigation thing,” Charlene began wrapping up her story told at the Uptown Bakery after the town meeting, Downtown having no such establishment and thus no option for them to support fellow Downtown businesses in that way. But, then again, Uptown has nothing like Emily New Moon’s adult oriented video store or Charlene’s records store specializing in vintage vinyl. “Sending Wolvie potentially up the Big Creek,” she continued, “but, lucky for us, wink wink, only resulting in probationary work. With me, ha. Working on my film along with Roberts. With her encouragement, I’m upping the bigfoot debunking angle. She’s got some major players involved now, bringing in some big money. We could be looking at Hollywood box office hit, Emily. I’m talking major leagues, Cincinnati Reds stuff. No more Louisville Cardinals.”

“That’s sounds fabulous,” said Emily to her friend, her lover on odd nights of the calendar with Wolvie taken even and them taking turns with the first day of the month, those always being odd and so stacking the *odds* in Charlene’s favor. They worked it out in a way. And then there was the problem of the full moon for Wolvie. Speaking of which, there’s one tonight…

“You know Wolvie’s right,” Emily New Moon said to Charlene after a couple more bites of her donut, trying to frame the words correct in her head. “Bigfoot’s real. It’s (munch), common knowledge on the Makah Indian Reservation where I was raised. My Aunt Whistling Bark saw them, or at least heard them. She was just unloading her trash at the Sooes Creek Dump. Recorded the sounds on her phone even.” She pulls out her cell phone from a back pocket. “Here, I think I have them saved—”

“No need, Emily. I know they’re real.”

“You *do*? Then why act this way? Why accept, I mean, you’re being *persuaded* to debunk the… I mean, um.”

“I know what you mean. You just have to trust I have a plan. Like *you* have a plan for your Blue Moon Kentucky video tape. Paired pet projects we can call them. You have withheld secrets and so do I, wink wink.”

—–

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of town in its Park District, Wolvie locks himself in and prepares for the long night ahead.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0404, Cable Isle, Jeogeot, The Burg, Washington

00460403

“So you see, the giant blue cryptid turned out to be a really big human with blue painted toenails. Uncovering this, I hightailed it out of there via the rope I came down on because, you know, they were still *Big Feet*. Case closed. I file that one under Solved like all the rest of its kind.

“And so, Ms. Brown, I can tackle any case like that, debunk it in, say, 3 days tops. Like yours. What was it, underwater sighting in that tunnel over in the inland sea? 2 days for that. First off, it was probably a costume, probably someone you even know. Who reported this to you?”

“Well, um. My brother actually. He’s a, er, shapeshifter himself.”

“Shapeshifter, phtt,” Roberts dismissed the word outright. “No such thing.”

“I’ve seen him — it.”

“People see many things and interpret it their own way. The planet Venus becomes a UFO, The Moon turns into the face of a vanilla rapist hiding behind some trees. It goes on and on. I hate to be the one to burst your bubble–.”

“About Bigfoot, then,” hastens Charlene, having to get back to the records store by 3 when assistant Devon’s shift is over. “The Nawt Vaya one.”

“Ah, Nawt Vaya,” Roberts mouths the location. “Forgot the name for it. Clever.” She thought of Alamo and Arizona, smelly, salty inland sea transmuted to clean, freshwater one. Probably worth it despite the lowering of resolution.

“How much to, er, find out the truth?”

Roberts thinks of Wanda’s boat that must remain afloat, along with the business itself. Cases were kind of coming in slower than usual right now because of the aftermath of the flood. She reviews what Charlene Brown has told her. She runs a records store in a place called The Burg. Doesn’t sound like much money in that. But before, she says she worked as an adjunct faculty member of a local university. Studying cryptids of all things. Her research parallels some of mine. No real proof for any of it. She’s thinking about making a film of the subject to reenter the field, mostly emphasizing the debunking, throw in some loose ends here and there. Loose ends, she would admit if pressed, that she too has about the existence of bigfoot. Could this particular one — represent a loose end? After all, Charlene is pretty seasoned on the subject. In all likelihood not, but…

“No charge,” Roberts decides, making Charlene crack a smile. She’d have to sell a lot of records to level up to her standard fees, Roberts thinks. But the movie — she could ask for a role in it, recoup the cost that way and then some; help emphasize the debunking aspect as most paying customers would expect; help organize the financial backing along those lines. “Now: tell me more about this film.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0403, Cable Isle

00460402

“Is this Roberts?” says Charlene, knowing it wasn’t but saying it anyway. Just to kill some time.

“No that’s just another dead body; girl named Time. Over here,” Wanda instead directs Charlene’s attention while still looking out across the room from that perch on the giant vanity table. “Those shoes. That’s you!”

“Me?” Pink high heeled shoes, Charlene observes under the distant bed again. And a blue body stretched out and strapped in up top. Disturbing!

“Oh. Right,” backtracks Wanda once more. “That’s someone else. I keep forgetting.”

“O–kay. But *Roberts*,” Charlene tries to focus the queer, young receptionist. “Where’s the private investigator I came to see? I’ll take Franklin too, mind you. If she’s closer or more available.”

“Roberts is good. Roberts is *there*. Big Feet (!).”

Wanda doesn’t move, but suddenly they were there.

—–

“Ms. Brown. Ms. *Brown*. Slap her again,” commands Roberts from above, fresh from a case. So Wanda does.

I fully come around, sit up from my stretched out if not strapped in position on the floor by the door. I hear Roberts tell Wanda to return to her desk, job done.

“I must have, ow!, tripped over the bow of that boat.”

“What boat?” Roberts says, not even looking around for one. “Never mind. Get up when you feel like it and come into my office. We have many things to talk about.”

“We do?” I said, still aching, still recovering.

“Yes.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0402, Cable Isle

00460401

Another one looking for Roberts and Franklin, Officer Buford thinks, trying to distract himself from the carnage behind him. He can tell because she doesn’t seem to know her way around. Only regulars use the asylum, and noone goes downtown unless there’s legal or other problems or maybe to fix their car at Ben’s. This one doesn’t have a car. This one has some kind of legal or other problems, he’s determined by process of elimination. And so it is.

—–

She finally finds the right teleport spot and then walks over to the office, stepping inside.

“You!” says the receptionist, thinking she recognizes her either from print or film, reader’s choice. Probably print, though. Because of the not knowing the location here.

“Oh. Never mind,” the receptionist backtracks the reaction. “You’re not her. Can I help you, then?”

“I’m looking for Franklin,” Charlene The Punk Brown begins, taking all the oddness in stride. “Or Roberts — let’s make it Roberts,” she decides.

“Big House,” says Wanda (Wanda again?). “Investigating a Big Foot sighting.”

“Exactly why I’m here.”

“Not surprising,” Wanda quickly replies. “It will be a debunking, mind you. They always are. I’m just trying to save you some money up front. We have enough guillible people coming through here to keep my boat afloat.”

“Wondering about that.”

“You get use to it,” she says about the boat that keeps her afloat.

“Riiight, so… just use the teleporter outside again? One of the selections?”

“I’ll take you. I need to get out of here for a while anyway.” And so she did.

—–

Not so big, thinks Charlene, being behind Wanda a bit due to not quite getting the hang of these wonky teleporters still, pheh. But then she opened the front door to the house.

“Up here!!” Wanda calls from quite a far distance, quite a far distance indeed.

20 minutes later she was there after climbing up a rope from a trash bin.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0401, Cable Isle

00460317

Wheeler started to sit down beside Charlene and Emily in back but Willa Brown Halter instead waved her up front. She didn’t want the newly minted mayor to be seen with a *Downtown* Brown, hmph. Besides, she was up next. After Wolvie’s sentencing was over.

“What happened Madam Mayor?” Willa asked about her delay after she sat down beside her.

“Well, we fell in a plot hole,” Wheeler started another prepared joke. “Did I say plot hole? *Pot* hole I meant, as in one of Builder Bob’s diggings.” She glanced at him in the next bench over with his pipe still on shoulder.

“Funny,” said Willa. “But you’ve actually stumbled into your subject matter for the day. Infrastructure.” Funny indeed.

Then at the main stage:

“So,” said Judge Tronesisia (hi Tronesisia!). “You’re telling me, with your *bigfoot* costume on right now which you were caught in, that you didn’t put on this same costume and walk perpendicular through the Nawt Vaya tunnel walls while you also photographed yourself doing the same?”

“That’s right, my liege.”

“We have the photograph, I’ll remind you. *Proof*.”

No answer.

“Last chance to plead guilty,” warned Tronesisia.

Wolvie kept silent. As was his plan all along.

“What gives?” whispered Wheeler to Willa in the pause.

“Oh, this will wrap up soon enough,” Willa dismissed the whole hearing. “Just some *Downtowner* caught with his pants down again, ha.”

“Then I have no choice but to sentence you to *3 years*…” Gasps all around.

“… probationary work,” finished the judge, making another juicy dangler. Sighs all around now. Everyone seemed to like Wolvie and didn’t want any lengthy imprisonment to befall him. He was just trying to help out his kind, most thought. “You’ll tell kids about bigfoot,” Tronesisia further decreed, “maybe even participate in that film your sister Charlene The Punk Brown is making deriding the subject.” Charlene gives the judge a thumbs up from the back, just as happy as Willa was disappointed. Pants down, the latter thinks. Downtowner! How could they ignore the facts!

Wolvie leaves the courthouse room pants head down. But it was all play. He dare not look at the smile on his sister’s face lest he break out a big one too.

“Okay, Wheeler,” urged Willa. “You’re up. Get over there before the townspeople and belt out your plan to fix *infrastructure*.” Bob was so excited about the topic that he shifted his pipe from left to right shoulder. No more fun with holes, he thought punnily. Funds *for*.

“Aheemm,” she begins nervously, eyeing expectant Bob with his 12 foot pipe. “This is what I have in mind.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0317, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, South Lake, The Burg

00460316 (reversed course)

Charlene saw her coming up from Downtown and recognized her — like Wolvie before — from that maid cleaning video also available in Emily’s store. Despite the different hair. What gives?? she thinks, and stops in her tracks to find out as best she could.

“Wheeler, I gather,” she began. “The new town mayor.”

“Charlene The Punk,” said Wheeler, also guessing the identity of the person before her. Not a video this time, but print. She spotted the blue fingers left by the Ball.

“Where are you going?”

“What do you mean? I’m coming to see you.”

“I *mean*, the town meeting is in 15 minutes — I didn’t mean, come see me now, pheh. I was heading there myself. *You’re* suppose to be the leader of the thing. Not a new town name this time like for the first, but perhaps something even more important. And directly following up on the first.”

“Weelll?” said expectant Wheeler after a significant enough pause. Stop with the danglings and parts 01 of 02 and the to-be-continued and shite, she thinks.  Then she spotted other Downtowners moving Uptown too, understood that Charlene was telling truth.

“Just follow me,” Charlene said, and proceeded past Wheeler. “I’ll take control,” she hurled back. “*Maid*.” A now completely floored Wheeler didn’t think she had any choice; Charlene knew too much. And Wolvie! She picks herself up off the slanted Midtown pavement and moves back toward Uptown’s Town or City Hall like all the rest.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0316, Jeogeot, The Burg