“What you looking at now, Dr. Mouse? More Youtube poop?” Frank Lynn was truly curious again. What was his dead roommate up to?
“Not *technically*. It’s a video about Grand Theft Auto, you know, the place where *you’re* from, both you and Philip.”
“*Oh.*” Now Frank was *really* curious. “And, let’s see (he peers closer at the screen), there’s a giant eyeball, I see. And… a star?”
“Rockstar,” Mouse answers. “Like the company that created GTA but also your friend. They connect through the lines.”
“Red, green, blue, yellow, yeah,” Frank Lynn recites. “I remember. His creation is like my creation, me being baker b. the user.” Frank knew he had the power to channel all that. Thus the high castle in the skies, the resonance with Heaven here with a capital H. Little *h*ell is far away now for him. But Philip… different story. “What does it mean?” Frank asks. “The picture here, the Rockstar and the eyeball with the lightning bolts. Jupiter?”
“Could be could be. I have to go to the table now. I have to make notes. Please don’t unfreeze the image on the screen here while I work over there.” He points backwards with his cane from his viewing chair, toward the kitchen we saw him sitting at with Frank and Philip a couple of sections ago. I don’t believe he’s shown up in this here blog and attached photo-novel since. Time to bring him back I guess. Oh wait… what’s happening? He’s now on the floor . He’s shaking… violently! Frank… do something! Move the table and its contents to start! TBC



























