Benny meets something huge and inexplicable in the heart of the woods and instinctively turns into a flower to camouflage himself, just like he transformed from hamster to rat (or large mouse) before over at Newt and Eyela’s manor. Ends up that the monster before him is also named Ben, and also a shapeshifter ta boot. He’d just changed from a grizzly bear into a samsquanch to make himself bigger for an encounter with a detected rodent, spotted in his peripheral vision, he thought. They were scared of each other is what I’m saying, which caused the transformation in both, offensive versus defensive. Do they afterwards become friends? Not immediately: Ben doesn’t see Benny since the flower disguise is effective. He thinks the rodent has scuttled back into the forest, if he didn’t imagine the whole thing. And he can’t change back into a bear for 48 hours because of the involved energy drain. Same for Benny actually — he has to remain a flower for the same amount of time. It’s just the way things work for these kind of kindred shapeshifters, so different in size now but so similar in other ways. Yes, I think they have to become friends. Sugar’s shack will attract the 2 at the same time eventually and they’ll sit down and have a talk and find out how much they have in common, including — yikes! — both having secret *monoliths*. “How’d *that* happen?” they might simultaneously ask each other in this created scenario, probably so full of sugar by then that they don’t know what they’re saying or revealing. We’ll see how it plays out.
Category Archives: 0216
He was back again. He looked down at his hands: fully white now. Return to his old self.
“How about you?” she said.
“W-what?” He looked around, remembered the sweepers. Witches. Witches did this to him. Now he’s returned. Fisher Rig, the dimwitted bottom half to his top, was gone. He was out of his cell, 7 day sentence over; free at last. That Poop file was deleted, if not the other. He still had work to do.
“You’re name, silly,” she said, grinning and shifting her feet around, suddenly shy, as if embarrassed about what she’d revealed. An act, I say.
“Oh. Edward. Edward Daigle.”
And he was. He looked up and recognized his cousin, the third person that was playing the fated Alphabet Soup game with him back in the 5th grade.
A car needing a trim.
Next up: the doctor of a home, I mean, the home of a doctor.
Across the road: a Beaut Salon run by Cthy and Selly, but everyone in town knew this was A lie, just like the doctor.
But further in the past, a different story? Caty and Shely if so. And it’s Beauty now.
Just look at that hair!
“It’s the Fortress all right,” he im’ed Alysha remotely. “I’m standing directly beside 300 over in Eveningwood.” This is where Duncan A. entered the Sphere through Fieldon, he thinks to himself. This is where Marty probably followed him. All the way to Borneo which wasn’t Borneo any longer. The Oracle — predicted this.
“I tried to get through the gates,” Alysha im’ed back, still in the northern Nautilus village with the one black and the one rumored gay. “15 sec ejection period.” She then leaned back against the cool stone of the well also pondering the next move but along different lines. The buildings were duplicates but — what did this mean?
I looked at the island from above. I guess I can see the resemblance: 2 blue pools substituting for 2 blue eyes, obvious reference to the Arkansas-Missouri polarity as well that centers our US of A. One closed (restricted property) and one open (unrestricted). And the little pool there I was floating in: a (sideways) mouth of sorts? What is the island saying?
Since we were merged as a ship Marty wasn’t there to answer me. I would have to call in yet another.
“Bow wow wow!”
Maybe this wasn’t the best outfit for the situation.
2 days later — 1 day, 23 hours, 56 minutes later to be precise — the villagers were alerted again to the presence of a giant amongst them. Stan Jackson, Gertie and Brumhilda Johnson, and the Twinkle Toe twins assembled in the “green” in front of their 3 houses. On the other side of the water, Stephen Fire, Alice and Daisy and Little Boo and Poppy Paxton, and Richie Griffith did the same.
“Who this time?” these Westerners cried out across Bartybrat Bay, named for a local ragamuffin killed in a skateboarding accident.
“A fair maiden this time Richie Griffith and others,” replied the Easties, trying to keep their voices down a bit more because of well, the presence. Stan Jackson was especially irritated by Richie Griffith’s big tiny mouth, town crier indeed — and always had to be addressed as their leader according to the new town policy drawn up day before yesterday’s tomorrow. He planned to open a proper newspaper office on Central Isle later this month — that’ll teach the big tiny snitch.
They all assembled on Central Isle, soon to be turned into a shopping strip if Stan Jackson and the Easties had their way. That way they’d have to build a bridge coming from *their* direction; no more monopolizing Central Isle by the Westerners. For prophecy (Big Bob) had said, “And lo if the Easties have their way, the Central Isle will be transformed, ye, into a stripper joint.” Everyone down through the years and now centuries assumed a brothel type establishment but modern developments seemed to have proven them wrong.
The giant was coming by water this time. Stealthier.