Category Archives: 0411

00340411

“Drop it!” Tessa commanded, then realized she was in the wrong post when she shouted this. Wrong post wrong place. Although they may meet again, she said.

“This orange ain’t right,” Maggie McFarland pondered in the correct time and location, thinking it too yellow to be true. Halfway between an orange and a banana we could add from our perspective. Not here not there. She puts it back… in the bananas?

Maggie had left the remainder of her groceries at the check out counter, including a green apple and a red pepper. Check that: a red apple and a green pepper. Checkout lady and part-time Twin Pines Market owner Mabel (Mabel!) was in the bathroom, waiting for Maggie to finish. She always goes back two or three times for other stuff. “Oh, I forgot the oregano sauce for Den Den’s supper, oh dear,” she might utter after Mabel (Mabel!) had already rung her up. So she just lets the food collect now on the counter and bides her time patiently uses her time wisely. “Oh never mind me,” Maggie said at another point, “I’m just an old lady looking for a slice of fun pie,” and went off and retrieved Den Den’s spagettios, perusing the shelves for the right kind first, the one made with veggie broth instead of meat. Mabel (Mabel!) had learned she could comfortably fit in a bathroom break after the first layout of groceries, like here (see above photo). She actually saves it up just for this occassion. 2 o’clock. Every day at 2 o’clock Maggie McFarland comes in to shop for her groceries. Unless its Munday. No one shops on Munday. No one does anything on Munday. Noone.

Maggie comes to the counter a second time, lays the too yellow orange on the counter between the red and the green. She put it back with the bananas and then changed her mind. That would be nuts to keep it there, she thought, and then actually slipped it in her pocket for a second, glancing around first. Mabel’s always gone this time of day, about 2:20. She could get away with it, she knew. Deep deep deep in her pocket.

But then thought better of it, temporary insanity over. “Done!” she shouted in the direction of the bathrooms and everywhere else, all the fruits and vegetables properly in a row now, starting with red and ending with green. Yellow in the middle, yellow in the middle… she picks it up again, makes a face. One last chance to steal.

“Me too!” Sound of water ends. Mabel has come back into the light. Is the banana colored orange still between the red and the green? An important question to be answered right after we come back from our sponsers. “Fun pie, it’s there when you need it, it’s there when you’re not.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0411, Jeogeot, Towerboro

00330411

Holding his two hot drinks comfortably in either hand, cozies in place, he pauses before leaving to admire the view toward the ocean, the sea that surrounds his home continent of Nautilus like a circumference to a circle (or square). About at the same place Newt, earlier on it seems, saw those salt and pepper shakers tittering on the floor. Exactly the same spot. Not tittering: *crying*. He readjusts the cozie on either cup and proceeds to take his “little bambinos” — as he likes to call them — back to The Table room for the meeting with Wheeler. Guess I should have asked if she wanted anything, he thinks while walking toward the castle gate. Perhaps one of those unsweetened teas she likes so much.

But too late: inside the castle now, its walls sealing off exterior from interior. He didn’t even look over at the whale tail brushing the side Starbuccaneer Barista mentioned. Another tight but meaningful that Baker missed in the rush toward safety.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0411, Nautilus, North, Rooster's Peninsula

00320411

The cracks of thunder behind the door should have been a clear warning for danger ahead, along with the illuminated cracks in the wall beside it. But Joey ignored them all, going through door after door to reach the ultimate end. John L. Brown tried to warn her, albeit faintly, albeit sarcastically. “Don’t go,” he whispered over after she went through, and then had a giggle. Count him among the nefarious agent types. Joey: good. But Ontario had become malfunctioning thanks to the deletion of half the town and so she was back here, trying to retrace her steps to the… tree. Or whatever the thing was: family tree perhaps, like in genealogy. She had to fill in the memory gaps. She resisted the urge to become plastered beforehand; wanted to keep her mind open just like the doors that were presented to her, 1 2 3.

Onlooking John, seen by us but unseen to Joey, tried to determine what species she was and correctly guessed Venusian because of the blue-green skin. Or blue and green skin. But orange eyes. Alien obviously.

There she goes!

“Don’t go,” he whispered as the door closed behind her, even hitting her rump a little bit. The giggles begin.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0411, Long Islands, Nautilus, Wendy-Ontario, Wild West

00310411

“You can’t cage me up. I am like fireflies in the center of night, multitudinous yet coordinated, synchronized. Blink blink off. Blink off off. And so on.”

“Are you…”

“Don’t say it. You know who I am.”

“How about Flytrap (then)?” The blue-green gave it away.

—–

She walked backwards into the hole. All she knew tonight was that she had to find Monroe Ray and this was the place to do it.

She made sure her eyes were wide open as the oily thing took her in. (bleh!)

Then out (helb!) and backwards toward the Venus Flytrap statue — can’t look at it directly or else, she knew.

Then: white horse, good. She was there. And she didn’t have to look at its ass coming in; also good.

Tripping over a border between more dark and less dark, she tumbled backwards forwards right into his head. It was the only way to make things work, she realized afterwards — and also before. The Man known as Ray…

… was dead.

“I’ve been waiting on you,” he said mechanically, like a bull.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0411, Gaeta V^^, Hana Lei^^, Twin Peaks Laboratory

Old and White

The wheels in his mind kept spinning. I’m in Dex, he thought rapidly. But in olden days this island, this *town*, was named Avalon according to that map over there on the wall, not too far from (the Isle of) Babylon but also: not too close. A gap between, but Smaller Water instead of Bigger Water. He had to prepare. The past meets the future and it’s not pretty. Pink (or red) does not bode well for a man. He’d been tested. Red it was. The lipstick remained. He could not remove it now, however hard he tried.

“Try again,” W. urged from the side, still just out of sight, of reach. He could only talk to her as if via phone.

She remained black and white as she twirled and whirled, like a rotisserie chicken in the Wild West of Nautilus, he believed, beyond the reach of phone. Hurry up, he thought, rid of the lipstick for now but not for long. This was a battle of Madam and I’m Adam. He turns.

At least Marilyn is here. Sing us that national anthem again, dearest.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0411, Nautilus, Rim Isles, Yd Island^

00290411

“In the big scheme of things,” he declared in his big voice, made for a tyrant, “the Earth and the Moon are the same size, although, true, the Sun remains considerably larger than either. We’re working on it.”

“The Sun too?” Alysha said by his side, following him around like a little puppy. The Master, she thinks excitedly, watching him walk tall to match his tall talk. But don’t call him that around Lena and Zach (!).

“Yes. Let’s move to Rose’s brother — 1/2 brother actually. The alien was a deflection of course. Two hearted green Martians are a dime a dozen where I’m from. We’ve solved their anatomy ages ago.”

“Marvelous,” Alysha cooed, looking into his pepper grey hair to match his eyes. And I wasted all that time cubing her and seeing what made her tick. The Master knew all along (!). He added this and that and that to her knowledge. She knows about the Man About Time now and what makes him tick as well. A man named Tick actually. Ironically. Oh joy, he’s speaking again.

“The birthday hat at the top,” he began after looking the “specimen” over. “Thoughts? Ideas?”

“Weelll,” Alysha tried, “I’d say it stands for the body itself, controls it like a Controller.”

“What happens if you remove the hat?” The Master Blue Feather Douglas stared deep into her eyes, grey penetrating almond. Her mind is good! he thinks from his superior position. She could be next on my specimen list.

“A conundrum,” she spoke. “A riddle,” she said. “You… *can’t*,” she concluded.

“No, instead you have to merge it with another body.” Blue Feather Douglas was pleased. This was enough for today. She’d learn more tomorrow. Or whenever he wished.

(to be continued)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0411, Blue Feather Sea^, Maebaleia/Satori

9 symphonies — should have been 19 (busted)

At 10 they were back inside. “You don’t know a lot about Bach, do you?”

“No,” admitted Harrison Ford Jett, getting weary of the magic now. About time for bed, he thought. But with her? It both excited and chilled him. What would she attempt *this* time? It was always a roulette wheel of love. “My knowledge of classical music basically starts with Beethoven, beyond Mozart, beyond Hayden. And, in fact, the same with rock music. Starts with Beatles, skipping over Elvis and Buddy Holly and the like.”

“John Lennon insisted that Beetles was spelled with an ‘a’. He was trying to forget the past. He was trying to forget the *parallel*.”

“Suppose so.” It was an interesting conversation for Harrison. Bluebird, his little chickadee, had “turned” smart again after the coffee incident. Maybe it was all the caffeine, he speculated. For *both* of us. Relax and float downstream, I guess. “John is Mahler, though. It’s obvious — the glasses.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Bluebird decided she better start acting dumber again. She slows down the thoughts. 1 1/2 times now, 1, then 1/2. 1/2 usually does the trick. Not *too* slow.

—–

They were in bed now. Harrison was relieved to find the antics tonight were quite vanilla. Afterwards his neck hurt, though, giving indication that something was askew once more.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0411, MISTY MO^^

yin yang Yanktons

Seeing the cow chip holding giant beaver in the snow and all, hot Biker 02 knew he was in the right place. It was a small but significant burg, and he had designs on digging up someone in a church cemetery there.

In a similar sized town directly south, cold Biker 01 bikes down a main artery, passing vein after vein. He was searching for the church in vain. He should have been looking up to icier climes.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0411, Collagesity Fordham, GTA, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

00260411

Charlie Banana could transform into a giant banana phone when needed. George uses this power to attempt to contact Duncan, knowing he would be late for dinner again. Probably fish tacos or some other fish product, bleh. Best to stay here with Charlie; partake of the fruits of the garden. Clare sure makes some mean melons!

“Hello?” An answer on the other side, but not Duncan.

“Charlie,” George whispered above and beyond the all the digits now fronting his body, knowing his friend was still in there. “You sure you dialed the *right* numbers?”

Charlie hadn’t told young George the secret to any telephone call. You dial all the numbers at once and then wait for an answer. Whoever you are suppose to talk to will be on the other end.

“Hello?” the strange voice said again. The central tree? Could be. Or perhaps one of those differentiated wood spirits Charlie foretold about already showing up.

“Hi… is this… Duncan?” George asked, knowing it wasn’t but not figuring out anything else to say.

“Duncan… Avocado?” The person on the other end of the line hadn’t heard that name in a long, long time.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0411, Heterocera, VHC City^

Pro-PORCI Club

“Moe! I thought you were retired.”

“Nah, just decided to go back to my homeland,” he gruffed. “Us cartoons should stick together. Right Sandy?”

“It’s Willy (*hiccup* BURRRRRP!).”

“Right. Never can remember that.”

“How about me, big boy,” spoke Teacher Felicia Mae Appletree on the other side, ready for more action if needed. She hadn’t seen a banana (or lemon) she didn’t like yet. The blinking neon head of Homer loomed above it all. HOMR. Jeffrey Phillips decides to ask.

“Gus?”

“Moe,” Moe corrected.

“Right, Moe?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean Homeland? Or *Homer*land?”

Pause. “Why don’t you go see for yourself,” then came the answer. On cue, the music started next door, a Residents piece this time (“Walter Westinghouse”).

Homer was about to eat 12 boxes of 12 donuts live before a TV audience and then spray paint a pig and some other stupid stuff, so Moe said. “The kids eat it up,” he explains while Homer quickly downs his first, second, third…

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0411, Nautilus, North, Upper Austra^