“Spongebub, what did I tell you about playing around with Weegee. *Now* look what’s happened!”
“But Squibward!” pleaded up his yellow, square Bikini Rump neighbor whose pineapple shaped home had just been destroyed by its giant nose. “We were boorrrrrrrrrrrr–
—–
–rded its ship and set sail for the sky.
—–
“What’s it spelling out now, Shelley? I mean… Lexi?”
“I think it wants us to stop.” STOP
“Stop beating, Hank. Stop. BEATING”
Hank knew it was technically slapping so he didn’t stop. Until the gun came out, *POP*.
“Take that. POP.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0213, Nautilus, Rank & File
“Sir?” (pause) “Sir?”
“Oh yes, young Fink,” distracted Newt finally acknowledges his presence at the door to his study. “How’s it going? Everything alright with the computer upstairs and all?” He didn’t look at Fink Humann, kept staring at the screen of his own computer.
“Yes, fine sir,” said Fink. “It’s just that it’s 7 o’clock. Time for me to leave. I’m saying goodbye is all. Like, er, like I do every time I come over here… at this time.”
Newt checks his watch not on his arm, gives a little start. “Oh dear, didn’t realize it was so late. Better wrap this up. Well, er, thank you, Fink, for telling me the time and the lateness of it all. And I suppose I’ll see you again… tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is a big day, sir.”
“Please, Fink. You can stop calling me sir. You’ve come over, what is it, almost every day for the past 2 weeks?”
“Except that Sunday when Jack and I went plane flying, yes.”
“We’re friends now,” emphasized Newt from his chair. “Come over here, actually — I know it’s getting late and you need to get back to the treehouse but I — I want your opinion on this. I’m serious. Here.” And Newt waved him over, which he complied with. “What do you see?” he asked as Fink Humann also stared at the monitor with him.
“That’s er, your wife,” said Fink, seeing her image dominating the screen. Fink knew this was Wheeler now and not another form of their precious Princess Pinky Gumm. Wheeler herself told them that during a visit the other day to their treehouse.
“No, *behind* her. What do you see on the wall over there?”
“Um, JEO — GEOT,” he read on the poster. “Jeogeot,” he combined.
“Very good. The continent we’re now on.”
“Jeo-geot,” Fink repeated. “Jeogeot,” he collaged again.
“Yes,” said Newt. “Fine and dandy. But what else is there?”
“Um… people.”
“People, yes. And…”
“Dinos.”
“Dinosaurs, right. Aannd…”
“Um, an elephant?”
*Elephant*? Newt thinks. Does young Fink here not know what a giraffe is?? But then Newt realized Fink had inadvertently given him the answer to the riddle he’d been pondering so deeply about all this afternoon and early into the evening. The phone rang on his table. Wheeler obviously, Newt thought without checking the number.
“Thank you again, Fink. We’ll be talking soon.” He pats him on his shoulder to signal their time was done.
“But not tomorrow,” Fink says while walking out of the study, making Newt realize that tomorrow was the day mechanical contraption Bimbo was suppose to arrive from Fink and Jack’s native Oooo. Fink might not be coming around as much after that, and perhaps not at all. He’d miss the lad if so. Perhaps there was another way, hmm. He finally answers the phone that’s been ringing all this time.
“Where *are* you?” Wheeler emits.
Where are *you*? Newt wanted to say in return but knew it didn’t matter. Could be anywhere in the world… or nowhere. He’d find her whatever. Just up the stairs from down. “Be right there,” he said not into the phone but in the air all around.
Unexpectant, tree-house topping Fern was apparently consumed by the pink, the candy, massing up from below.
Flying mastermind Constance looks down at all the chaos, topped herself by a beanie of the 4 sacred colors looking very much like our Badlands and Tibetian umbrellas from earlier posts of this here photo-novel. Has she harnessed their vast combined powers for evil instead of good? Mighty good guess.
Similarly green, jumpjacking Fern in the basement of our new Nautilus “castle” digs emphasizes that she’s not *this* Fern and that she’s fine, then starts to have second thoughts as 9 turns into 10 as the exercising continues. Think about what could happen when she gets to 45!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0213, Nautilus, Oooo, Perch-Mistletoe
She started talking about MUSKET as a frigg’n genius and a red flag was raised for the first real time in the 2+ hour long video. She began to round herself out where I could see the other side, the dark one we all have; made her human beyond mere whitewashed brainiac — fair deal. She then talked about the merger of technology and anatomy and told Musket to “go for it” with his related, controversial projects because it was going to happen anyway. This reminded me of all the Cyberpunk 2077 body modifications, like eye replacements (thanks a lot Blue Moon!). Musket is a genius but really only as a businessman and self-promoter, sort of like the Big Orange one he also hails, self reflecting self. Couldn’t this be a frigg’n warning from a game envisioning a dystopian future? Girlfriend Grimes is there. Grimes is the key. Musician.
But what is the warning? one might ask. What’s wrong with *worshiping technology*?
Let’s drop the cubes on the square to end.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0213, C2077, GTA, Inter Face, Kabusie, Washington
Siamese in this case (two heads on one, fused body). And two of ’em ta boot. Walker had to pause to take in the scene. Which I captured above (Lettuce Walk again — thanks!).
“King Rodney,” the Shadow spoke. He turned, confronted it.
“Me? I’m no king. I’m just a ruler of a country, democratic in nature. Now, anyways.”
“The Country of Morrow. Otherwise: Cofmo.”
“Well, yeah. That’s it. A country, not a kingdom.”
“But you train ants. I mean, you have ant warriors. In your fort — make that: forts.”
“Use to. When I was a kid I suppose. Now I’m they’re grown up. I have adult games to play.”
“So I’ve heard,” the Shadow spoke. A pause, then: “What year is it, ruler of Cofmo? I mean, can you sit in a diner with a white girl or even an Asian girl and get away with it? Can you listen to the Everly Brothers blaring from a jukebox? Or do you have to settle for Fats Domino?”
“I… don’t know. 1984 I guess. Last I checked. What time do *you* think it is? Shadow. My Shadow I’m supposing.”
“Correct. You are just confronting yourself. Because this is a dream. I know something that you need to know. About the abstracting.”
“The what?” And he woke up.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0213, Hana Lei^^
“Why didn’t you tell me about the chest, father?” she imagined asking him later at the same motel, mother with a new client by now. Father Pritchard, a different kind of father, one with a holy vest chained to a cross he never asked for; was just in the family business, his father a father, *his* father a father, so on. This is a way to exact his flesh, pound-for-pound.
He made googly eyes with this, which gave her the answer. He was thinking about the past even now.
“Ahh, so… mmm…”
“Boyys,” he issued. “I worshiped the boyys. They just made me… blow up (!).”
“Combustible. Like oxygen.”
“I suppose.” He was clear for one minute, now muddied again. The whites of his eyes had narrowed into slits like snakes.
“So you *couldn’t* be my father.”
“No,” he admitted. “No, I couldn’t be.”
Must have been *Robert*, she realized. She said this to her father who was now not her father, at least biologically. Psychically perhaps “yes” still. She hadn’t given up on him just because of the Big Reveal — opening up the chest. He was with her mother just not in a strict biblical sense. Not like Father Pritchard now. More on-the-spot irony.
“Swamp Fox, right.” We better end there.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0213, Paper Soap, Soap
They made her put on a dress before she approached the mayor. A bathing suit wouldn’t hack it in such regal settings. One of her mother’s obviously, because it fit perfectly.
“Well… what have you to say for yourself? Daughter.”
Gasping, realizing (thanks Brown!).
“I am in 2 places at once!”
“Yes indeed,” she said, misunderstanding the utterance a bit. “Here. But also a place called Big Sandy over on the old Bellissaria continent. You are stuck in *both*.”
Marsha “Pink” Krakow pondered the impossibility of it all while continuing to stare. She had trapped herself!
In the gap, her mother Wheeler Malone Wilson spoke of possibilities. “You can thank Eddie for digging you out of this situation by putting down his spatula and picking up his golden shovel, a hard thing to do for him by this point. You can proceed to your new home in the dunes. Yes, you and Eddie will be a couple (there), Edward faded along with the past. He was both real and not real. Much like you. Much like any of us. I wanted to have this meeting with you alone so I could tell you some of these things. I forgive you for stealing the car.”
“Why did you put me in that cow suit?” she remembered to ask, an important thing not to overlook.
“Because (*sigh*), I wanted you out of the way. I wanted you, not dead, but in a place where you couldn’t do any harm to my big big plans. Which are still on, by the way. Thus the meeting in private. I paid off Bazooka to shut his mouth already. 10 free readings over at Golden’s. Or 10 free dances from Bun Bun, his choice. I’d go with Golden but he’ll probably choose the latter. Saves me some money if he does so what do I care?” She settled back in her posh leather seat, her position of power. The next time they meet, she knew, they wouldn’t have the luxury of being alone. She’d have some questions to answer to. And questions begat questions; they would mount up. A general council would inevitably follow. And then they’d find out about the 2n1.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0213, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^
She was back at the very beginning, brushing her teeth in the middle of Hooktip, staring into umbrella eyes, all knowing even at that early stage. She had all the books in the world in ’em. Now to test it out on the rest of the world… starting with Edward here. Edward Daigle. But that was different — not Dimmy (Tommy), the actual person she started dating at that time. A choice was made on the ottoman below. She could ask him to stand up and move, or keep him there. On that spot. 135/135/135. Highest on *The* Diagonal, and she didn’t believe there was another one of those except as echo. And she should know, being ruler of it all.
“Mind if I brush?” she said just before. But not hair. That was different too.
In slow motion she prepared to spit.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0213, Heterocera, VHC City^
Sunklands 