In a pot haze, Marion Harding waits patiently for the show to begin. He loves Elvis impersonators. Hucka Doobie tries to join him but finds she can’t.
—–
“Time to pull her out of that sluggish place,” Baker Bloch speaks about Gaston to Baker Blinker from their usual perch at the Perch restaurant. “Function’s basically used up anyway.”
“There’s the couch, still,” counters the female Baker. “Jeffrie Phillips — white star.”
“I can’t even find it tonight it’s so laggy. And I dare not log in Wheeler to help. My computer will crash, I’m sure of it.”
“Sugar house,” Baker Blinker then says. “Sugar’s House.”
“Alright I’ll give it another shot.”
“Give one to Marion as well.”
—–
“She does strike a good pose there,” Baker Bloch says, looking on remotely. “She seems… confident.”
“Put her with Marion. See what happens. Minimize windows as needed.”
—–
“It’s no use, Baker Blinker. Hucka Doobie just appears gray, like she’s in David Bowie’s shiny spacesuit from ‘The Man Who Fell To Earth.'”
“Precisely.”
—–
“Oops. There she is.”
“Have him walk. Have them talk. Plop Marion down in the plastic seat in front of Hucka Doobie. See what goes down.
—–
She’s wondering how much money is in that attache case, Baker Bloch. $50,000 lindens? Enough to get her out of this hazy, laggy place? Could be.”
“But how to strike up a conversation?
—–
“Too late: looks like the show’s starting.
“And that’s *not* Elvis.”
—–
Sunklands 