Category Archives: 0203

going round the bend

Under a spell, a parade of words began to flow from their now unblocked mouths. Newt first. How he got his name. “Right *here*,” he said. Wheeler’s turn. She was Queen to Baker’s Prime Minister but this was not Baker; Baker was not the father of Shelley. “Unacceptable!!!” shrilled the fruit headed Mike, still at the center of it all, holding the lemon and lime in each hand, ready to stuff them back in if needed. And he did. He could get information through other means. He sent in Pat. They high foured each other while passing. Pat would get to the bottom of this, Mike thought. Female influence. Darker origins. Almost Knight but not quite. Getting there, though. He went out of the Cavern to have a smoke under the starless, moon filled sky. Or was it skies? A skiier pair of skis rider-less bike whizzed by, expertly weaving through the tall flowers and small trees despite no apparent guider. A man walked up as it faded in the distance: glasses, professor looking. “I let it go. I let *everything* go. And yet, as you see, it still knows the way home.”

The bike rode into the rising sun. Mike’s lemon head went away. They were talking man to man, human to human. Knight was over.

(to be continued)

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“I’ve *been* here for 2 weeks,” complained Johnny Cage, tiring of the assignment in Slaashsides. He was ready to get back home to his wife Elvira and kids Lester, Luke and Leonard Jay (Leno). But the problem was: Barry DeBoy was a quick healer, a *real* quick healer — like he stood outside of time or something (as his supervisor exasperatedly explained over the phone to him) — and that he may be needed for another one of those “accidents” again.

“We need you to stay close to that New Mexico portal,” he said. “That’s the only way we know how still to reach him. Work on your biking, work on your *bike*,” he suggested. “Slaashsides is fairly big — about a 1/2 sim as I recall. Just ride around and around, check your tires, check your gears, handle, seat — *everything*. Just don’t go groundside yet. And that’s an order, John, from the guys and gals upstairs that pay *both* our salaries and bonuses. You got a big bump recently. Don’t screw all this up. You need to start thinking about your pension — the future. Think of little Leno.”

The stinky green pocketbook displayed on the side of the news stand was starting to get overwhelming. “Listen, I have to go,” spoke Johnny Cage. “I’ll do what you said. I’ll keep them happy. But either get me back to New Mexico or get me back home pretty quickly. I can’t stand these halfway places, neither here nor there.” And with this he hung up the receiver, rather slammed it back in the carriage really, and walked up the sidewalk and turned left again. Back to Burro Alley, pheh.

10 days, he determined while treading carefully on its slicker surface — not daring to hurt himself as he would hurt others. That’s all I’m going to put up with it.

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what it all builds up from… and down from for that matter

“Looks like you’ve had some kind of adventure, Uncle of mine.”

“I have. But it’s all pretend.”

“Right. Bringing it to me, I suppose. Why I’m here.”

“Welll…” Mr. Babyface settles back into the bargain bin couch, wishing he’d bought up a little more to avoid the oh-too-soon broken springs, ow. One in his ribs right now. “Let’s say,” he continued, light bulb over his head now, “you’re here, staying with me, because of a local rock concert, say a progressive group right down there at the base of the peninsula, at the, what’s its name?”

“Dunno, Uncle.”

“Ah, heck. Progressive Rock Museum, but that’s not the name of the venue.”

“I’m okay with Progressive Rock Venue if you are.”

“Alright,” relented Babyface. “But you’re here because of that, say, supergroup Yes, which we both love, although we have a separate list of favorite albums. Yours is…”

“‘Close to the Edge’, ‘Relayer’, and ‘Going for the One’.”

“Yes, and mine would be ‘Fragile’, ‘Yes Album’ and ‘Topographic Oceans’.”

Peter winces. “‘Topographic Oceans’,” he says with some derision. “Bloated.”

“Okay, okay, let’s not get into that argument again. We agree to disagree. We’re talking about loving the same *group* anyway. It’s like we like the same forest but not the same trees or clump of trees — something.”

“Okay, my Uncle.”

“And we need to keep in touch more. You’re not even real here. You’re just in my head.”

“Sorry, Uncle. I’m busy. Winning tennis tournaments for one. You haven’t even congratulated me on my latest. Plus the comedy — another thing we differ on…”

“… but are also the same, yes yes. Firesign Theatre.”

“‘Bozos’!” shouted Peter Ladd.

“‘Dwarf’!” countered Mr. Babyface to his thought-to-be estranged nephew playfully. They would hug each other in the moment if they weren’t so maladjusted. It was just the families, their upbringing. Both kind of square pegs in round holes. Just so thankful, thought Babyface here, that Peter was born with a normal head, phew! Which brings us back to conception.

“Tell me about Shamot, Peter, how you got here. I’ve been thinking about the Big Schwa lately.”

“Big E!” shouted Peter, making his Uncle Babyface smile but not as much as before. This was more serial stuff, as the young’n’s might put it.

—–

So they pried themselves away from watching the blog on TV and went upstairs to stare at it from different sides, different angles, to ponder what Mr. Babyface had surmised earlier. “Shamot on top of course,” he reminded Peter. “Closest hit in the Oracle is Shamokin PA, but with a pinch of collage magic we can create one of those 2-n-1’s… that you hate so much.”

“Stop it, Uncle. We’re not enemies.”

“I know, sorry.” But look… I’ll project it on the screen downstairs when we return.”

“What else while we’re here?”

He pivoted the Big E around until the proper side was facing his nephew, turning it into a Big Schwa. He was seeing from his Uncle’s perspective now.

“Orgas, Peter,” recited Mr. Babyface on another closest Oracle hit, this time for the sim of Orgamast, label right in front of Peter’s eyes. He reloads his pipe, Blue Pennant this time.  “Orgasm, obviously (puff puff). And there’s also an Organ Cave population place in the same state of West Virginie. The Lordshore-Orgamast Floor is the lowest level of the Kidd Tower here (next to the Lebettu Castle). Lordshore also begins with LO.”

“What are you getting at, Uncle?”

“Let’s go back to the couch.”

—–


Shamokin > Shamon

“Shamon… from the inn… place of thorns. This is where it happened.”

“What happened?” Then Peter realized what his Uncle was talking about. “Ooooh.”

Mr. Babyface thought of a joke here but wisely decided not to mouth it.

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five

“Tell me 5 things you love about Shelley, George.”

“She has a castle.”

“Good, that’s one.”

She’s rich… apparently.”

“Two.”

She’s… pretty.”

“Pretty or beautiful?” the doctor tried to clarify.

“Beautiful, let’s say.”

“‘Beautiful, let’s say’? Or just ‘beautiful’?”

“Beautiful,” he then amends per this suggestion. She was! He knew Wheeler was underneath all that innocent exterior stuff, the goofy hair and all. He’ll dig it out soon enough.

“We have two more. That’s three.”

“Sheeee’s… intelligent.”

“Nice.” He waits for the last.

“Sheeeeees’s… smart.”

“I think that’s the same as intelligent.”

“Okayy. Sheeeeeeeeeee’s… ummmmmm…”

“Resourceful?” tries Dr. Baumbeer hopefully. Always a good one to plug in when a client is stumped here.

“Resourceful, yes.”

Dr. Baumbeer then hands him a card over the counter. “This is my meeting group. The Rabbid Rabbits. I’d like you — and your fiance hopefully, if she wishes — to join us this Saturday. Or the Saturday after that if you want. Some Saturday, let’s say. Sunday is right out, having merged with Monday to create Munday. No one does anything on Munday. And Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday I’m here.”

“I understand.”

“Number’s right there beneath the logo of the rabbit eating his, I mean, its foot. Please join us,” he emphasizes, then gets up. George — The Musician — follows suit. Their session in what some call the Triggerfish War Room has ended.

This is how it began.

“5 cents please.”

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the green and the yellow

“So here we are again, Wheeler. Took us a while.”

“The tic tac toe board.” She looks over at it, notices her missing X now. The game remains unfinished.

“Let’s talk about what’s happened so far. Kind of ironic that way back in photo-novel 03 you chose to discuss ‘Billfork’ over ‘Pumpkintwisters’ at the second Table meeting. Now the latter becomes the key to (understanding) the duck. This is the first 2-n-1 — I’m saying this for the reader or readers more than you, of course — but the movie ‘Wavetwisters’ has a weak point in the middle *perfectly* filled in by the ‘200 Motels’ animation sequence called ‘Dental Hygiene’, featuring, in part, a duck. *The* duck.”

“I agree. I wish I could go back in time to change things.”

“Mabel really enjoyed (the second Table meeting),” countered Newt, formerly Axis-Windmill. “This is obviously the same duck or same kind of duck in ‘The Point (of the Wall).'”

“Agreed.”

“And then in ‘Down and Dirty Duck.’ All three are made by the same animation company. Let’s see (checks): Murakami-Wolf. We don’t need to go into details. The reader or readers can double-check all this for himself or herself or themselves.

“Then we have something else enter the picture. ‘Duckman’, an ahead-of-its-time animation series from the mid 1990s. The three we mentioned before are from the early to mid 1970s. What has changed? Zappa was in his prime in 1971 when (his movie) ‘200 Motels’ was released, when ‘The Point’ was shown on TV to a rather massive audience, thanks in part to participant Ringo Starr, who also, ahem, starred in ‘200 Motels’ koinkidinkally enough. ‘Down and Dirty Duck’ features a comedy musical duo named Flo and Eddie who played for Zappa during “200 Motels” (and also acted in the movie), and were most famous for being a part of rock group The Turtles before this, ‘Happy Together’ as their signature song. Anyway, Flo was the duck, the Dirty Duck of the title, who remained unnamed otherwise. Flo is Mark Volman and Eddie is Howard Kaylan. A huge Zappa head rises over the horizon behind the duck at one point in the movie.”

“Drugs,” added Wheeler. “All 3 ducks — who are the same duck, agreed — are reached through drugs. And now (our) Paul Duck: the same.”

“Correct. And ‘Duckman’ *has* to figure in here. Erik Duckman is a private dick who is basically incapable of solving cases without the help of his Joe Friday-like assistant Cornfed, a pig. And here we go: Zappa was quite involved, musically and maybe conceptually, in season one but died of cancer before the series’ first episode aired, which was dedicated to him. Zappa’s son Dweezil is the voice of one of the sons of Duckman. We must extend Dirty Duck now into this new duck through Zappa. This is his *wish*; how he can survive death itself. Incarnate into the duck.”

“Don’t forget Paul Drake, the private dick detective of ‘Perry Mason’. Most direct line to at least the name Paul Duck.”

“Raymond Burr, the actor who famously played Perry Mason, ‘wakes up’ as another character (murderer Lars Thorwald) in ‘Waits for No One,’ I mean in the movie ‘Rear Window’. He looks directly at the camera which is the same as Jimmy Stewart across the courtyard. ‘The sleeper has awoken’ — another Paul. (Frank) Herbert’s Paul (from ‘Dune’).”

“The first episode of ‘Duckman’ is key,” says Wheeler. “Can I place my X back in the corner?”

“Not until we talk to Mabel.”

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00330203

They had to talk in code because of the presence of the (righteous) nun to their right, obviously some kind of spy and listening in. “Daigle, Eddy” felt he had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other: Fisher Rig to his left, fresh from helping the beasts with another killing spree. “Beasts must have their feasts,” he says, rationalizing his actions with rhyme. “Besides, I’m not part cat like you,” he might add to D’Eddy here (as he also likes to be called sometimes). “I don’t have protection.”

“You don’t have to *stay*,” D’Eddy could reply here. “I *do*. I’m married to this place,” he might continue.

“Because of the pool?” Fisher Rig would say here if so. “I thought you deleted that file, those (particular) actions. Like Schitt’s Creek, nobody needs to know the proper name. Like, well, your *own* name. Edward.”

“Don’t call me that,” he would certainly command at this point, perhaps pulling a small gun out of his pocket and pointing it for emphasis. “Don’t *ever* call me that.” For Fisher Rig, he preferred D’Eddy, simply because the simple fisherman had trouble grasping the comma centered moniker he chose in the 5th grade, after his cousin had humiliated him in a… well, better save part of the story for later.

(to be continued)

Oh what the heck. It was a game of TILE, then just called Alphabet Soup. Edward traversed the alphabet three times before his cousin finished one. Full alphabets were especially important for Daigles of whatever first name, including Pierre, including Bradbury. The Oracle demanded. And since Edward was *also* named Edward, the humiliation was increased at least 3-fold. Probably more. He had to get rid of it as best he could according to the laws of the land.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0203, ENIGMA, Nautilus, North, Wild West

Alien Beach (specifics)

“Well, Wheeler. There it is. Alien Island. The new foothold.”

“And here we are, still not together, still not a couple, Peter and Prissy swum away to some secluded haven in the sea.”

“He stole my hat!” Baker Bloch exclaims again, this time aloud.

“Indeed.” She noted it was back. Did *he* notice?

“What… do you make of it?”

“Do you know what hat stealing means? Hat removal?” she rephrases.

“Umm.”

“You know.”

“Sex?” he guesses, then realizes the obvious. “Ted Bear,” he says, segueing into Wheeler’s new train of thought.

“About this time in the past,” she began, “we showed a film. ‘3 Friends of Belleville.’ Remember?”

Baker thought back to a Table meeting that seemed far far away, almost hidden in time if it weren’t for memory reinforcements; continual; eating through time like sideways ants. “Yes. We could have moved backwards from Belleville into Billville: ‘Billfork’. But we instead moved forward.”

“‘Pumpkineaters,’ yes,” Wheeler agreed, and then studied the shore again in front of them. Not looking back, not looking *black*.

Baker thought about Mabel, how happy she was. *Wait*. That wasn’t it. “Wilson Wheeler?” he said, testing her name. She didn’t answer. Her task for the night seemed done.

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00310203

“Alright I’m ready.”

“Fire her up.”

rrrr RRRRRRRRRR r..r RRRRRRRR.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” doubled down Hucka.

“I’m trying!” rrr RR rrr RR…

“Did you leave the lights on while we were dancing?”

“*No*” rrr RRRRRRRRRRR.

“Ah jeez. I’m going back to the White Palace, Baker Bloch. I’ve had enough thrills anyway for a while.”

rr RRRRR rr RR. “Suit yourself. I’m going to explore the town.” rr RRRRRRR rr RR. “On foot, pheh, if necessary.”

“Goodbye.” She slams the door on the way out and hails a taxi at the road. So many here in John F. Kennedy City. The yellow line should do for a return.

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00300203

Why was he brought back? To contemplate, I suppose.

Tillie will be here soon. But first: the boy. George, revolving around 10 to 13 to 10 and back and back endlessly. Obviously a reference (he thinks) to the relationship of the I and the E of TILE, 5 and 8 tiles respectively. 5 turns into 8 turns into 5 and on and on. Similar — the same, really. Raising up of 3 then lowering back down again. And 10 is twice 5.

It obviously has something to do with the Last Christmas where I couldn’t relay my information about TILE, and its unique qualities, to Clare. I believe Clare is in the background, ready to emerge. But where? And how?

The board, eh? a b c d e. 5. e becomes E. m n o p q r s t. 8. Ultimately back to 5 through 7, T, and 6, L. 5 is I. 5 is Eye. 5 is…

“… me.” Little George.

“Take me home, Duncan. I’m hungry.”

Duncan?

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spotted

If our timing is right, a green shoe should come into view about here.

There!

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