Category Archives: 0401

triads

“Alright Barrys. Let’s strategize about what comes next since Charlene Brown is busy cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Barry Vampire…”

“*X.* Vampire,” he insists.

“Yes. What do you see on your computer screen? A specific location? A specific person? Or perhaps, dare I go there, a *thing*?”

Barry X. Vampire stares at his computer screen but only sees snow — whiteness. “Nothing yet,” he offers in a slightly disappointed tone. But he’s hoping for words over images. Too many pictures from Picturetown recently, he bemoans internally.

“How about you Barry De Boy? Pictures? Symbols? Words? Something else?”

Barry De Boy expresses he doesn’t see anything yet either. And neither can we even more in this picture. Not even snowy whiteness.

“How… about you?” ventured one of the Barrys rather timidly, I’m not quite sure which one yet.

“I’m not the important one (here),” Jeffrie Phillips declares firmly. “I coordinate between the two of you, the writer (nods toward X. Vampire) and the artist (nods toward De Boy).”

“But… you’re the author,” spoke the Barry that was different from the one who dared to pipe up first. “You are the base, the core. You coordinate *us*.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“But…” the first Barry began again, then was cut short. Charlene came back with chicken dumplings and a lot of other stuff, some smoking hot, some cool as a cucumber. They ate until 7 and then slept until 8. Then at 9 they spoke again but nothing about coordination or anything serious. I believe it was about the local infestation of wild parsnip. Or was it poison ivy. Giant hogweed?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0401, Jeogeot^^

Black Ice

“I remember you, girl. From Paperville!”

“Right, right. The Little Cafe on the Way!” Both open their mouths further in surprise but never get to the heart of the oddity. Rabbit 02 in the corner of the fake flowery field worships on. Fertility. Much fertility.

“I remember you too, Birmingham.”

“Shut up Muff,” the fellow red fox hissed over. “I did what I had to do.”

“Yeah right, hmph.”

Rabbit 02 has a new husband. Rabbit M4, who lives just off the freeway. He usually stays over at Rabbit 02’s place because of the noise. He has a lot of patience and ironically he is a doctor too (optometrist), so more patients. When Rabbit 02’s family got together at Thanksgiving, he and Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, Rabbit 02’s son from husband no. 3 — Rabbit 01 we’ve called him in this here blog — got along swimmingly, being fellow doctors (and swimmers) and all. Now in the last couple of weeks she’s had 3 more from M4: Uffcott, Hinton, and Winterbourne, because he was, since his birth came the first of December and the other two, slightly older triplets came out a little before midnight. They usually keep them over at the “highway house” with housekeeper Sarah because, again, of the noise. M4 is patient, but he needs a lot of quiet because of all the research he’s doing into creating a super eye capable of perpetual self healing — alien science we’re talking about here, top secret hush hush stuff. He can’t discuss it with anyone. All his friends and relatives think he’s just selfish separating himself from his children, not knowing he has very good reasons, very good indeed.

The wife finishes her worshiping and walks back over through the fake flowery field between the two girls who had turned their backs on each other, and between the two foxes who had also grown apart.

“I hear the town has a temple, dearest. I wonder if we could fit in a visit between your shops.”

“Maybe,” shot back Rabbit 02, irritated that he would ask. “Consignment store next door, or so that’s what the map says: Odds & Ends. I need to pick out some outfits for Christmas for the big ta-do at Ben the Parrot’s.”

“That foul mouth bird brain!” Rabbit M4 wanted to yell with his tongue at the top of his lungs but of course bit it. They should never have started selling those animal talkie toys, he laments.

They move next door. No consignment store there. Yet.

Instead: “Come here dear. There’s a man stuck in this picture!

Dear?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0401, Black Ice, NWES Island^

“first name not needed”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0317, 0400, 0401, Bellisaria^^, collages 2d

Temple tales 02

MAT looked down and only saw Mercury X. Rising on the lowest floor, who was a dummy. No organ music from the 2nd directly below him either.

There is no mixture of sacred and profane here at the temple, he thought. No un-well placed people down below to go along with a check written by Dorothy to Wheeler. Baker must be mad, victim of the 2989 curse, or 49 x 61. All will be solved when Toothpick marries his sister here Tuesday’s Thursday Wednesday’s Friday Saturday. We invented a special time for it called Munday, another Happy Day and raising the total from 6 to 7 [or would that be 5 to 6]. Mr. Z. and Mrs. M will be very proud, the best man and the maw.

He turns back to stare at the big eye oh so wanting to be well and sacred again. “But it can’t come about without your cooperation, Carrcassonnee,” he speaks aloud to the great olive being on the 3rd and top floor of the temple, the alien object all is built around. “You are the beginning and ending; you are alive, true, but your eye is not functioning properly still. You are yourself and not yourself at once. This is alchemy, this is a tin or lead voice wishing to raise itself to be gold like the visible body. We must make sound synchronize with silence. Silence is good and golden but…”

He attempts again.

“Iiiiii. Iiiiiiii-iiiii.” Like a car trying to start but can’t.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0401, Marwood, NWES Island^

po(u)ring

“Umbrella, huh?” muttered private dick Wendell “Biff” Carter after he’d finally found the correct place to read in his red book. Read book? Anyway, maybe it’s just the correct *place*… to read his book. Paperville. In a coffee and pastry shop with some suspicious design parallels with the recently opened Bake’s Bakery over in Teepot. He can read it here; he can read it there. Hmm (again). Better get over for a shot of those “Umbrella dunces.” *This* is where Dunce Boy aka D Boy aka DeBoy (etc.) went after his hat transformation and acquiring that tracking red tie from either the Pot-D or Pan-Z tracking gang. Probably the latter, unless it is the former. Jeffrie Phillips would know. If we could find him. He’s disappeared too. Another suspicious design parallel.

To that tell-tale Paperville sculpture:

Compare:

The Boy is here!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0401, Abbey^^

take and make

Sandman walks the rail, continuing to look for the one he calls The Spitter. He pauses to gander at this collection of junk on one side, knowing, through it, that he is indeed on the right track.

Onward…

—–

He finds another Lane to add to Penny, Arnold, Shelly at the end of this track, the latter a Firesign Theatre fan and a close match to his pattern, a two fer one fer zero kind of deal-i-o. Man.

The banana indicated *himself*.

He had no problem going further. He’d been walking away from Love for a looong time.

—–

Ant-man walked out of the rain to enter the lane.

—–

The rain catches up with him at The End. He is home.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0401, Imagine^^

Somewhere again…

“I still don’t know why you did it, *Pink*.”

“Well, *Beige* — welcome to the besties club by the way –”

Frankie “Beige” McCracken tittered here. Then, while looking out the side of her eye, “Oh my God, oh my *God*.” Her hand remained in the same place all this time. “*Don’t* turn around.”

Muffled speaking outside. Tom Banks, photography and calligraphy teacher at the local jr. and sr. high schools, was talking to Mr. Fix It about a flat tire. “Ol’ lemon, hehe, broke down right down the street, Jake.”

“Jake,” Frankie whispered over while frozen in place. “I thought you said his name was Gene,” making Marsha “Pink” Krakow weakly shrug. They listened again.

“Well –” Jake was saying. “Let’s just go down and have a look. I’ll bring my tire iron and repair kit.” With this they went into the garage and then down the street.

“*Phew*.” Frankie “Beige” McCracken pretend wiped her brow while looking out the window. “That was a close one. I thought we were goners, what with your hot pink outfit you always sport. You’d be a *horrible* spy with that on all the time.” She titters again; she had a cute way of doing this quite a lot, cute to some that is, and Marsha was a good sport about it. Always – a – sport. She dared to glance down the street herself, but the “lemon” was out of sight.

—–

“Just on the other side here, Jake — I’ll hold that iron for you while you take a look.”

“Okay.”

*WOP*. That was the end of Jake in town for a while. Drug into the wee woods behind the laundromat with a head gash the size of Viagra Falls. He’d surface several days later, but it wasn’t a pretty picture.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0401, Corsica^^, Storybrook^

on the border

We catch up with Barry X. Vampire in Urqhart, not far from Instabar on the Corsica continent atall. Like anyone who lives long enough, vampires obviously included, Barry has turned to novel writing to try to explain the inner life he sees mirrored in the outer life all around him. Recent killings in Instabar, actually, have planted the seeds for his next inspiration, centered on a *man* named Larch who was at the center of it all. In reading about the deaths in the local newspaper and then researching the man, Barry X. quickly found out that the lone pick in his profile was the Loch Ness Inn in a Scottish Highland related sim, with the description simply reading, “Old Country.” Sounds like his kind of place. He teleports over…

… only to find lego people living in a stone cottage on a hill overlooking the world famous lock. The inn must have moved, Barry deduced wrongly. He decides to ask one of the composite creatures if they knew of a Mr. Larch. “*The* Larch,” came one of their squeaky voices, and then Barry told them of the murders, which they didn’t know about, this Winfield 5 and his husband-wife Winnie. They said they warned him not to go back and stay here in the Old Country and that one of their “type” would do him in eventually — they saw it in the tea leaves and the cards and several other divining methods down through the years now. “‘Who will do him in?'” Winfield 5 asked dramatically when recreating the scene, painting it in vivid, clown-like colors. “‘One of *you* lot,’ it always said back in its various forms,” he relayed. “So Winnie and I racked our brains and gnashed our teeth about this down through the years, wondering why we  — one of us; *both* of us — would have any reason to kill our good and kind and trusted friend Mr. Larch. But: now we have our answer.”

“Yes,” quickly added Winnie by his side, obviously sad at the death of his friend but still greatly relieved to know what the scrying messages were about after all this time.

Barry X. turns to take in the view and think about lego people and creatures in general. A lego monster killed Larch and the rest of his neighborhood watch gang attending that meeting held at DC Universe, he ruminates while watching what he thought might be the Loch Ness monster itself float by the ruins of the castle below him but which turned out to only be a line of porpoises. The meaning to his mystery, he realized, may turn out to be just as elusive.

What was the name of that castle down there? He couldn’t recall right off. It hit too close to home.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0401, Corsica^^, Scotland Highlands, Urqhart^

back to 0 (2 (4))

Baker Bloch Guy Benjamin woke up with the fuse. He looked around… groggily. End of Time, hmph. Where’s, er, Hucka D.? “Hucka Doobie,” he said aloud. “What the heck did we drin–“. But he stopped himself mid-sentence because no one was with him. He groaned, holding his head. He felt like a Sledgehammer hit it. Big Time. “Peter,” he spoke aloud again. “Something abou–” He scanned the room more closely. He clearly remembers a bell. Bell sound, yeah. It woke him up. The fuse…

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0401, End of Time^^

back

“Peanut,” answers Rock Ramby in his gruff voice to lover Gill Alex in their more expensive apartment on Southside. “That’s what we’re looking for. They’re all over town. Along with that other guy. The Guy guy.” He continues to stare out toward the sea.

“Guy Linden,” responds Gill in an effeminate voice from the pillows with the books inside, currently enjoying the backside of Rock instead. “Met him once on a railroad.”

Rock swings around and looks at Gill Alex directly. “W-why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I don’t know.” Rock’s front was not nearly as pleasant to behold as the behind. He was truly angry this bit of information was withheld from him.

“Especially concerning a *RR*.”

—–

They later ate at Spunky’s, a popular, local watering hole that we’ve already seen other characters of this current Collagesity photo-novel at (Merry Gouldbusk, Herbert Dune, maybe some others).

Oh, sorry… wrong “coffee Japanese Tea House.” There’re so many of ’em in NWES!

… let’s start again. They later dined at Spunky’s, a local, popular place to eat and drink.

Rock was taking too long to eat, as usual for his lover. Gill Alex was only drinking by this point, far ahead of his partner in that aspect. His two toned brain began to spin around the idea of the Guy again.

“He wasn’t my lover,” he defends between gulps, and then clunks the glass noisily on the table. “*Lover*.” His voice was increasingly becoming more Zeus-like, as it had been in novel 13. Not quite but getting there.

Rock woofs down some more lasagna pasta. “I know that, I know that,” he murmurs while simultaneously chewing, a little less gruff in tone to balance things out. “It’s just, ahem,” and here he sets down the fork quietly. “The RR and all.”

“Hitchcock?” Gill Alex scoffs. “We haven’t talked about that idea in months.” Then he had another idea. “Blue Berry Girl? Is *she* involved?” He stared at his purple wine back in front of his face. The glass seemed to hold a story.

—–

Out of the Misty Mountains she came, landing just outside Rock Ramby’s RR.

The dogg started barking…

… but then stopped as Blue Berry Girl crossed the RR and lost her plump, blue encasement. Herself at last!

Dogg bounded toward her, recognizing the long lost master. She scratched his ears while talking. “Outside, over there, I’m fat and bloated to the world. Inside I am free.” She looked toward the cabin no one lived in. “I’ll never be unfree again.”

—–

Yeah. *That* story. The dogg one.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0401, Black Ice, Jeogeot^^, MISTY MO^^, NWES Island^