Category Archives: Mexico

00340110

“What did you do to him Jerry?”

“What did *you* do to him… Gerry?”

Pause. “Well whoever did whatever I’ve got to go on patrol. You can stay here and bare the stares — figure it out.”

“We could just go talk to him.” Both laugh. Jack would have no useful information to give the pair of security guards: what he’s apparently pissed off about with one of them or perhaps both of them, or anything about Ontario in general. He’s a bad ass, in a bad way. He does the bidding of the Big Boss and that’s it, period. Doesn’t share anything with no one except for the highest level, the Mayor, the King, perhaps merged now as the Mayor-King. Hafta check; hafta think about that. New angle. Maybe Mexico-Canada related.

“He’s got that gun shop, you know,” states Gerry before he goes to punch keys on his rounds. “He could be toting one right now, ready to go on a killing spree.”

“Nah,” offers seated Jerry. “Wouldn’t come to that. He’s a company man. Doesn’t want to ruin his standings in the hierarchy.” Jerry leans in closer to Gerry. “There’s a potential slot opening for no. 3, you know. The guy in the middle.”

“Not North not South — I’ve heard,” he says back not far above a whisper as well. Mayor-King it is.

Meanwhile, a duck-man on a neighboring rooftop had more useful information, but no one knew how to reach him, least of all Jem, who could use it the most right now. 3 more days and ticking.

Even John had forgotten and he invented the anthropomorphic fellow — let the SOB loose unto the world at large. Repeated cloning comes with a price, but I can’t remember what it is right now (wonder why).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0110, Canada, Mexico, Wendy-Ontario

00340109

The next time I saw Jack he was pushing me against the wall of a clothing shop I was examining in the plaza where the space pod took me upon exiting the station.

Didn’t take long for him — one of his selves that is — to give me a pointed message. Don’t meddle in the affairs of this town. Stick to the rules, the instructions as he called it. Play the game and then leave. Else everyone gets confused, fearfully so. And, most likely, violently so.

But I was determined not to leave without the information I *wanted* (not needed). I was ruthless like that. I didn’t know that, just underneath the surface, was an interplanetary and interdimensional conspiracy ripe for revealing. I had stumbled not into a bottomless pit this time but the unveiling of the face of God at the bottom of it, Mexico and Canada combined unto one.

Later Ruth showed up working the plaza’s coffee stand and I was back to need not want. Trouble is, John was there too, staring at me staring at her. She was aware of eyes on her but decided not to acquiesce — play hard to get, as her character demanded (she had a secret). And then another John passed in the distance but I missed it.

And then Jack shows up walking toward that clothing store again, pheh. Clones. Town’s full of ’em. I fit right in.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0109, Canada, Wendy-Ontario, 0034, Mexico

head and heart

IMPORTANCE OF CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS

I asked the patient’s mom about the skincare regimen they were using, including their choice of soap. The parent said they were using Ivory soap. She said the previous doctor said to use either Dove or Ivory.

Now that would be an odd thing to suggest. Typically, one might recommend a less drying cleansing product to an atopic, but Ivory wouldn’t normally be at the top of that list. Almost undoubtedly, the doctor said to use “Dove, not Ivory.” But it is quite understandable how a patient could misinterpret what was said.

Port Ivory is a coastal area in the northwestern corner of Staten Island, New York City, New York, United States. It is located on Newark Bay near the entrances the Kill van Kull in the east and Arthur Kill in the west….

The area bore the name of Milliken originally, and became locally known as Port Ivory after Ivory Soap, one of the best-known products from Procter & Gamble, which operated a factory at the site from 1907 until 1991 when the soap making operation was moved to Mexico.[1][2]

“I knew you’d be back. *Boyfriend*.” Mexican standoff.

“You know what I’m here for.” SHOOT SHOOT POP POP.

Red at the waist.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0615, Mexico, New Jersey, New York, Wendy-Ontario

Dinksyland

I hadn’t heard Dinksy Dix and his Wee Wonders Jazz Band in a while, so I fired them up when I had finished with Charlene. I thought about our conversation which took a strange twist and turn at the end while listening to what I believe was a Scott Joplin rag — unsure, though — must study up more on jazz soon. Anyway, the tune ended right as I came to the conclusion that she was just leading me on… perhaps she was even channeling that witch Fern in the moment — yes, I thought, that must be it. Just to throw me off. Makes sense: Fern could always do that with her surprise spells and notwhat. I decided I better move forward and tip the wee, dinky ones. Dinksy would never speak to me again in that squeaky, cartoon voice if I didn’t. I figured a ten-er would be enough. Not too much. Don’t want them going on the road again to Mississippi and Alabama and who knows where else. Teepot needs music and laughter too much in these days of dark times. Keep their income steady but low and they can’t fuel up that gigantic magic bus of theirs and fly off to… God it could be Mexico if we weren’t careful and they’d never make it back over the border, what with their size. They’d be branded foreign contraband for sure. But… enough. “Thanks Dinksy,” I offered to the drummer who was also the leader of the small band, and personally handed him the bill, knowing the others might just drink it away. I winked at Dinksy and he stared back, obviously expecting more for such fine playing. They’d been rehearsing for weeks, eager for Master Phillips’ return, as they called me, cute as a pie. I’m no more Master than the Doctor formerly serving drinks up at the Castle and now probably vacationing in the Alps or Cambodia or some other God forsaken place in the world at large. Somewhere either extremely cold or warm for certain, alchemy dictating the contrast.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0311, Mexico, Teepot^^

Middle

He camped at Mexico Flats that night, fronting One Pink acting as a watch bird. “Sqwalk!” she erupted at half past 2. But it was only the Half Moon rising over a local stone hill. “Sqwalk!” she repeated at 5:45. Yes: The Sun this time, touching the tippy top of same hill. One Pink imagined herself burning on the surface, revealing her secret innards. Scorching Sun and Freezing Moon must be balanced, sqwalk for sqwalk. Otherwise: death. In time, Jeffrey Phillips would begin to understand the weird workings of the psychic, alchemical flamingo but not tonight. Instead he grumbled how just as he was about to fall asleep there went that bird again with the sqwalking, so not understanding atall the significance of the utterances. Sun and Moon; within and without us all; the great duality; mother and father; death and life; black and white of course; female/male all around. Silver and gold. Alchemy.

On to the Castle, bleary-eyed or not.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0303, Mexico, Nautilus, Rim Isles, Sansara

fluid 02

Red. And a bit of yellow toward the center.

But she couldn’t fly to see the whole from above. That was what she was shown next. Ruby’s Democratic Empire, a sky platform, well, about the size of the Rubi Woods.

And then she was *there*. Back at the forest. Coady the wolf before her at 168/168, about to howl “The End” again but this time with second thoughts. *Was* it The End? Was it really, truly, the finale? Really? Truly? Finale?

“Well Coady,” Ruby offered the stuck canine, hands on hips. “What happened to Madam Mexico? Did she get her wall between California and Nevada paid for? Did she fix the perfectly round hole in the middle? Can she still see the cursed valencia navel? Answer me Coady. I know you know.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0010, 0611, Mexico, Rubi^, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^

fluid

“Is it a place of good…

… or a force for evil, this new New Island?

Fishers Island. Eraserhead Man might know, but he’s already done with this particular Collagesity novel, taking his strange troupe of actors along with him. Loaded onto the Isle of the Top Dog, they are; destinations: unknown.  ‘Out there’, as Captain Spocari Nemoy might say. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Bill/Wheeler paused in her story, took a good look at Baker/Pitch sitting opposite her.

Still wearing his Russian hat (she must look up the name of that thing). Still fretting over when Mary gets home, what she’d like to eat on any given night, what wine to buy her, will her several different changes of clothing with different fabrics have to be washed separately or can it be done altogether. Small problems, nothing that can’t be solved with a little more experience and know-how. Yes, he is knitted together with his woman. And as such, he can never really go back to being plain ol’ Baker Bloch any longer. That’s the takeaway about *him* from this novel she’s receiving.

But herself? It’s a more complicated story, involving Philip Strevor, Marion Harding, True Opp (Tropp — *not* Troop). Maybe we can revisit the third one for more answers. Last we checked, he’s still up in New Eden, hanging around with Madam Mexico and Mr. Peanuts.

“But what did Ruby see there?” Pitch then asked (yes, she’s just going to think of him as Pitch from now on). “What is the ending to her Democratic Empire story?”

“Nothing,” answered Bill confidently. “There was no one in the lab. Just a stack of cheese in its center. And… a moth.”

She hesitated slightly, then: “Wait! There *was* someone there. Is!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0010, 0610, Mexico, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^

Troll Cave 02

The Bakers stare at Eraserhead Man while he rants. “It’s ‘HOW’S ANNIE?’ for PETE’S sake! And I MADE my successful ‘Return’! No more ‘WORST ENDING LINE IN TELEVISION HISTORY’ talk for ME!”

The Bakers then turn to his riding companion to the dinner, Robot Derak Jones, and stare. “I said I’m *sorry* I forgot to remind him to bring his hearing aid!”

“LEMONADE?! NO THANKS!”

—–

After the party, The Bakers clean up and discuss amongst themselves a more proper ending to “Collagesity 2018 Early”.

“Annie should be in the dunes,” offers Baker Blinker. “Just wandering around at night, lonely after Karl had, er, been forgotten. Do we know what happened to Karl?”

Baker Bloch talked while continuing to scrub omlet stains out of a pan. “I think (he scrubs some more), I think Tropp took his place in the Bluebird Cuddle Van. True Opp, I meant there.”

“The more realistic and human version of the Mmmmmm Opp, yes. The one that came out the pipe on the far side…”

“Anyway, that’s what I’ve got.”

“Seems kind of vague,” opines the female Baker. “How would we go about bringing Karl back, if it could be done? I *love* playing that role, after all.”

Baker Bloch finally manages to remove the last egg stain from the pan; hands it to Baker Blinker for drying. “Let’s go outside and sit and discuss it more.”

—–

“Sun’s setting again, Other Baker. Days are so short here. What is it? 3 hours of day, then an hour of night?”

“Think so.”

“So short,” he repeats. “*Could* we get use to that?”

Baker Blinker takes in the implication. “You’re saying we should just *move* here? Aren’t you? That’s how Karl can live on. That’s how New Island and the rest can continue onward forever and ever.”

“We have this cave, after all. Seems pretty empty overall. Vacated, I mean; owners aren’t around much. We can prepare and cook meals, then clean. We can continue to have parties with Robot Derak Jones, Eraserhead Man, and the rest. Given time, we’re sure to figure out a way to bring Karl back.”

“Write out Tropp,” states Baker Blinker, shifting her weight in the Sunlounger. “Write out Madam Mexico or whatever you’re calling her. Get rid of New Eden altogether. It’s just New Island and The End. Ellen and his assistant Sidechick don’t have to be right about *everything*.”

“Let’s take a walk. Let’s go down to the bridge and turn around.”

—–

“It seems like ages ago when I first crossed this bridge in the Spookmobile, Other Baker. But it was only a little over a year ago. I didn’t remember how I got here to New Island afterwards. The Spookmobile turned into a Love Bug. I guess you were back in Collagesity when all this happened. I turned into Mabel, got out of the car and then sat back in as myself so I could reach the pedals — and I was already trapped.”

“Mid-Hazel,” Baker Blinker responds.

Baker Bloch sighs. “I don’t even like to say her name. Wheeler was *so wrong* to get in cahoots with her.”

“That’s why we need to blow it up.”

Baker Bloch’s face expressed confusion. “The *bridge*?”

“Ummm…”

—–

But then they made the mistaken of wandering even further — under the bridge and south into the abandoned art colony in the dead of night. Safer Barnaby Point here, but then a couple of steps beyond: Artist Point proper. Someone or something followed them. Baker Blinker’s facelight soon winked out, a tell tale sign.

It was just Baker Blinker, Baker Bloch, and that person or thing alone in there. Forever and ever?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0008, 0617, Mexico, New Island^

Madam Mexico

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0008, 0615, Mexico, New Eden^^

attempt?

True Opp (Tropp) certainly wanted to pay a visit to the original Adam and his Eve up in ironically named Green Acres to console them about the recent loss of their child Oliver.

But such a long and winding road to get there.

Over Easter break, he managed to drive as far as the Mexico Flats Rest Area, still less than halfway up.

The Others had decided it was enough.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0008, 0614, Mexico, New Eden^^