Category Archives: 0005

stay

Teebestia tries to understand. She had followed Paul up to this sim line but didn’t cross when he changed from white to black. Then she didn’t follow him again across the same line when he entered Malone Central through Owls Head. She *is* scared. Something deep down keeps her from doing so. And now Hoss has had a vision! Omikron City… black lady, he said. Teebestia suspects David Bowie’s wife but then tries to remember if she had ever *been* this wife back there. Hmmm. “Something doesn’t add up,” she says aloud.

Teebestia huffs and turns toward Clownski’s. I can’t wait to hear those kids play this weekend, she thinks. My former paper boys!

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stay green

Having filled his backpack with more food and supplies from Rocky’s market, Paul was about to enter the underground again when he saw the enlarged hole to the right. No longer a circle but an ellipse.

Then a train ran over him but he was use to that.

Scott Walker (giant sloth) was no longer where he formerly was just beyond, causing havoc in Olde Lapara Towne. Had he moved elsewhere?

He better get back home to Malone Central before he loses his bearings in the labyrinthine streets and alleyways.

But he can’t resist summoning the green ickle from the depths first.

Such fun — but it didn’t knock him out of the red circle per usual.

Sim line. And to his right again: underground. The correct way home.

Mary warned of war. Lamb will not and cannot die with Ram, she said. She had traced the slaughter back to Inertia through The Grapevine. Her three poor possessed nephews were preparing to perform in Clownski’s this coming weekend. Punk, pure and raw. At least the sheriff (their brother) broke free of its deadening influence. Thud thud thud thud. Paul winces at the thought and enters the dark waters again. 10 seconds later he was run over by another train.


Paperboy.

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pass the vegetables

Also the next day, a fully returned Mary made an announcement to the citizens of Lapara’s Malone Central gathered around the boob tube. “From now on,” she declared, “my name is Mary Tyler and our group will no longer be called Peter, Paul and Mary but Lamb. No argument.”

Everyone nodded their heads, just glad that Mary had put down her fishing rod and joined the living once more.

The great sim battle begins.

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succulent

Upon returning from her trip to Omikron City, Inertia immediately got rid of the bleating rams which had wandered into the yard from parts unknown. “We’ll not start that cycle of life and death over again,” she proclaimed while knitting a coffin purse on the front porch and enjoying the peace and quiet of nighttime Astarte.

The next day the local butcher shop started a special on mutton.

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two and one

“You don’t mind if I take notes do you Wheeler?”

“Not if you don’t mind me watching tv while we talk.”

“Fair enough. Oh me, what iz that?”

“It’s comedy. Blowtorch to the head. Side splitting.”

“I guess so,” says a confused Hoss. “So we better start. Teebestia warned me I have to get above ground by sunset.”

“She’s smart. Have I met her?”

“I’m not sure. She sent me down to do the initial interview. She may enter later.”

“Cool. So what do you want to know about me pumpkin?”

Hoss blushed slightly. “First off, where are you from? Where are you born?”

“Farmington.”

Hoss gets chills. So that checks off, he thinks. “And your birth name is Wheeler Wilson, like it is now?” Others warned him that this may not be so.

“Nah,” Wheeler admitted. “I was born a man. Wilson Wheeler. I reversed the name when I reversed sexes. Or changed sexes, whatever. How’s that?”

Hoss scratches his head. He didn’t expect this! How to proceed: he decided to ask the most obvious question to get it out of the way. “Why… why did you do that, Wheeler?” Then he realized he probably went too far and backed off. “I mean, only if you want to tell…”

“I was in disguise. I was a woman all along. Except I didn’t realize it. Until I became one. 21.”

“21?”

“Years. 21 years. That’s when I became Wheeler Wilson and not Wilson Wheeler.”

Hoss was, fer sure, thinking that Wheeler was lying now. She knows about Henry Wilson!

“What’s your stance on civil rights, Wheeler Wilson?” He eyed her keenly.

She threw up her hands. “Civil rights for all. Man, woman, black, white, Muslim, Christian. Why wouldn’t I be for civil rights since I’ve been on both sides of the fence? Gimme a break. How can you be prejudice of someone you’ve been!”

“Have you been black as well?”

Without answering, Wheeler locks stares with Hoss.

For a moment he was somewhere else.

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Dune

Something appeared today in Grasslands. Sand… dunes to be more precise.

And a castle on top of perhaps the highest and sandiest one.

It has a ring to it.


“Twisted”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0005, 0515, collages 2d, Heterocera, Lapara^, MAPS, North Carolina

twisted tale

Cats see, cats know.

The dog too.

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Heathen


Casey Memorial

Teebestia sits on the southern edge of Olde Lapara Towne, just beyond the Magill House, and looks out from whence she came: the Atoll Sea. Will she return now to life beneath the waves? “There’s always Story Room,” she says to herself, trying to stay. Teebestia ponders some more. “Yes, I’ll go in that direction next.”

“So long for now, Omikron City.”

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colored 02

The fuzz took over. “Back here Deputy Pot Head,” the sherriff called. “Another one… green this time.”

“Like us,” says the approaching, stoned robot.

Turns out Casey the Alien was only passed out drunk and not dead. Being of suspicious color, though, he got pinned with the O’Donnell murder. 15 years later he was again free to roam the streets of OLT and immediately went to the sheriff’s office and thanked him and his deputy for their support during the trial. “The mob will have their way,” he said, which made both law officers nod their geometric heads.

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colored

Usually puffing on one of his favorite cigars, Hoss liked walking the streets of town after dark when no one much was around. Killing two birds with one stone, as he called it: thinking and walking/exercise. Tonight he was dwelling on the confusion he and his boss Teebestia (playfully: “Hoss Boss”) had over the Malone book found in the law library. Teeb thought he was talking about Malone Central in the bowels of this city’s underground. But no, the book was about a Malone, New York, very much above ground like Olde Lapara Towne and indeed with a most famous resident called Wheeler. But certainly not the Wheeler Wilson temporarily holed up with Paul, Mary and the rest in Malone Central. No, this was William Almon Wheeler, the 19th Vice President of our US of A under Rutherford B. Hayes from 1877 to 1881. “Booger” Hayes. Although, curiously, upon further digging Hoss had uncovered that the vice president *previous* to Wheeler was called Wilson — Henry in that case. But his birth surname was Colbath; he had it legally changed upon turning 21. Curiouser and curiouser, as they say.

Then he spotted the red shoes in the tall yellow grass underneath the train ramp. Hoss catches his breath. Dare he take a look?

Thinking about racial profiling again, he decides to go back to Rocky’s market and phone up Teebestia. “Wait there and we’ll check it out together,” his boss advised. 15 minutes later she and Hoss find out who the victim was. The most famous clown Renaldo O’Donnell. Yellow like the grass around him and red like the blood oozing out of his several stab wounds.

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