Category Archives: 0512

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“Who do you think that is over there, Greg Ogden with an extra G?”

“Just in the last name,” he modified. He lowered his voice, leaned forward. “And stop pointing over there.”

“Oh she knows we’re here,” said Dr. Mouse in reply. “She knows what we’re talking about; she *knows* what we’re thinking.”

Hatti the witch still didn’t look over, trying to ignore them. She was thinking back to when she left Valgate (= V-gate), her old beloved house that was her castle, left the NE corner of Nautilus continent behind. Got tired of the devilry. The boars! Booor-ing (in the end). She looked at her cyan blue nails — anywhere but over *there*. When’s our, *my* expresso going to arrive? she thinks. I’m about tired of *this* place as well, this Paper-Soap, amalgamated from 2 former school districts. The kids control all now! Thoughts can flow freely between subconscious and conscious: dream becomes reality. The burning of the Biker Bar and Grilling that killed our beloved director Penn Mann (etc.) — could have been their doing (easily enough). But personally I know it’s Claude.

Weary, she stares over at Mouse. “Looks like they’re actually closed. Wanna grab a burger you 2?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0512, Paper Soap

Gray Brown

“This is also a Mayberry,” she explained later in her House on the Hill. “We do not prejudice against black and white or coloreds. All are welcome here for resurrection.”

“What about Soap?” He knew the other Paper, the sim just named Paper itself, was accompanied by another sim of that name. “How do you, I don’t know, clean all the grime and dirt off from the grave… itself.”

“Child. You’re speaking nonsense.” She noted the holes in his head again. Marbles are loose somewhere in the world, perhaps this world. “Did you see Chuckey at the shack? You know, the swamp takes up basically half this Paper [delete name] sim. It’s a wet and dry war. Chuckey is my opposite. He (she pauses)… is (smaller pause) insaaaane.

Kolya thought back to the eyes that uttered “Arkansawwww”. *Not* “Jerrrry”. He didn’t think.

“What, child, did you see there? *Hear* there?” She decided to just play the cards she was dealt. “Did you seeeee — *this*?”

—-

“He took it over to Eyela in the Asylum to show her; plopped it down right on top of her unfinished jigsaw puzzle. It will never be finished. “What’s *this*?” she exclaimed while also tittering a bit. “Looks a little… like *me*.”

The book started screaming, low at first, then LOUD. She covered her ears and bent her single big eye down toward the floor, trying not to look any more as well.

Then it hissed the one word no one in this alternate Paper sim wanted to hear.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0512, Hana Lei^^

finger pointing

“They called it McIntyre’s Switch because it’s in McIntyre (sim) and it’s where people and people-like animals came to get turned on. Obviously Lemmy is a pusher.”

“That’s pretty good,” W admitted, just around the corner. “What about Sweet Lips (then)?”

“I’m getting to that. And: thanks!”

—–

“They called him a racist rat after he had established his 1st diner in McIntyre’s Switch. But for a white supremacist, he was pretty hip. He enjoyed black music, and that turned him around. He said it was just a club for socializing, this whole… *persona*.”

“The whole white rat thing,” said W, still into it. “So tell me about this, um, Social Circle.”

“Thanks again. He was a reborn white supremacist because he had gotten rid of all the black thanks to the good doctor. This was, of course, long before he himself became a Mouse, as in Dr. Mouse. Back then he was mere Paul Black, a vet studying to be a dr. and desiring to move from animal to man status and get out of the shadow of his more successful brother.”

“Brothers,” chipped in W.

“Okay. (pause) So that kind of clears up the doctor’s origins.”

“But they rejoined forces later on, this doctor and his mouse, his greatest creation as it turned out, much bigger than the Bendy thing.”

“Another removal of black, yeah. And — here — you can *see* Sweet Lips (sim) just out the window of the establishment. This proves it is directly linked to the Oracle.”


window to Sweet Lips

“And Paul’s Switch. That would be sometime in the 60’s. Well, obviously, at or around the time of Penny Lane.”

“And Arnold Layne.”

“I think we have all we need tonight.” W started putting things back in her pocketbook, viewable from just around the corner.

“I forgot to mention that Lemmy is also a mascot.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” She had almost finished gathering up her stuff. Lipstick. Toothpick. Mascara. And a little special toot for later. McIntyre’s Switch indeed.

“No, but you see, Lemmy is also a tree… tree mascot. Greentree.”

“Gotta go. See ya!” And she tooted on the way out, being good at hiding it. Good at hiding in general.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0512, Nautilus^^, Slaashsides

butterflies

Before heading over to the only real grown up person in the room as far as I could tell, I studied The Munsters a bit more, puzzled by their red Rudolph noses. The mounted rats Rock, Paper — er, Paper, Scissors, Rock — I think — represented a riddle too, a cypher. Better ask the Grandma about it. If this was such person.

I approached. “Grandma?” I tested.

“Tessa,” she corrected in a wavering voice. “You’re looking in the wrong place.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0512, Pickleland

more men

“There’s Devils around here again, Cpt. Dick. Or Devil; I can smell it or them with my 6th sense.”

“ESP,” acknowledges the captain, drunk at the time (it was noon, after all) and knowing that demons manifested in the area occasionally, like in ’73 with the Buzz and the Bee. He swears he hadn’t touched a drop when he saw them. “How many?” he attempted to clarify, thinking back to that awful day in early May. “One? Three? 50?” He skips over the number 2; too many bad memories. He can still feel the effects of the stingers coming from each side just here, there and there. If only he were inebriated when it happened to curb the pain.

Jake Hardbody thinks harder, ramping up his abilities to the max, like a raging fire. “One. But: powerful,” he concludes, unwrinkling his forehead and reflexively drawing his gun as if the Devil were in the immediate area, which he wasn’t. He was still down at the ice cream parlor asking nonsensical jokes to unsuspecting customers while assigning them ridiculous names. But he was about to leave. Back to the Ultimate Creator in Hell Heaven who was also himself to report on what he’d seen on the other side of X-City, the place they usually try to avoid because of, well, because of well armed and experienced psychics like Jake H. here. UC had it that Jake had retired from the force — the last of his kind — after the windmill accident in Hoover but that was planted propaganda to lure them back. Jake Hardbody also had a hard head, like a Diamond. In truth, he was a type of God himself. He was the secret power behind the police force of Upper Western Middle X-City, and soon to be a hero for a greater cause.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0512, Maebaleia/Satori^^, X-City^

rails again

He’s in there somewhere, Tenty. We’ll check that isolated valley over there first.”

“We’re looking for different people — entities — yes, but have a common goal.”

“To free the Inbetweenland of monsters (like us).”

“Correct.”

“Alright, let’s move out!”

Inexperienced traveler Tenty never made it past the railroad tracks.

“Watch out!!!”

Tickie then spotted him across the road and knew this was no accident. The Undertaker. Some called him the Operator. Some… Zero Hero.

He lifted up his monstrous arms and screeched a horrible, echoing sound. “Watch out!!!”

Then he turned into me and I was gone.

“What just happened??”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0512, Bellisaria^^

no Bigfoot

“It didn’t work out for us in Cassandra City, Moe.” Man About Time (MAT) looks over at revolving Homer. “But maybe it will work out here. In another city: NWES City. The City.”

“Town,” Moe gruffed back at sitting Man About Time (MAT). “Check the latest *town* council meeting notes. Here, I’ll send you a notecard.” The bartender was clearly miffed about the decision.

Man About Town checks the notecard; then: “I see.”

“Diamondfyre was the deciding vote,” Moe went on. “East and West decided nay, and North and South decided yea. So it was up to Diamondfyre to tip the balance — the, er, unofficial 5th sim of the town. Northwest if you will.”

MAT was still staring at the notecard in his inventory. “I’ll fight it,” he declares mildly but firmly.

“It’s partly *your* lot’s fault, see. You Collagesity people, moving in here and renting here and there and there and there. Like this joint. Does Moe’s really belong in this town?”

“Yes,” issues MAT promptly. He stares at the revolving head again. But perhaps not Homer, he thinks. Maybe that’s the key. One of them. Removal of the head. But Moe already said he wouldn’t travel without the head. So here we are.

“Moe,” MAT decides to venture after a sip of American beer. So insipid. “How close are you to retirement?”

“I don’t know,” he returned roughly. “5 years?”

More like 5 days, Man About Time then thought. Maybe even 5 hours. The head spins ’round for one of its last times here.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0512, Apple's Orchard, NWES Island^

search

“Ahem, I am looking for the purple girl,” Sandy Beech announced to the 2nd floor of the Great Marwood Tower in general, a duplicate of our Parisian Eiffel in scale if not in size. An older lady in a flowery black dress at the bakery counter turned to him and cleared her throat as well. “*Ahem*, young man.”

“Yes?” Sandy inquired. “You know something? I’m talking about the Blue Berry Girl,” he clarified. Of course he didn’t add that The Twins were looking for her. No one needs to know that here… none of these bots who, despite being unreal, still have eyes to see and ears to hear. They know things. He’s learned that down through the months existing in this place. And Marwood is thick with them. That’s their raison d’etre, apparently.

“I know something. But it, uhum, will cost (*cough*).” She took another deep drag of her Winston cigarette, her last. But she had a Marlboro pack ready in the top of her left white stocking, stretching it beyond needed elasticity. Oh well, she’d could always sell the damaged goods down at the Cub Run thrift shop in Apple’s Orchard (Apple’s Orchard?) for another carton or two; they weren’t particular about what they take in. Or maybe some sweets of some kind. Maybe rum cake — killing two birds with one stone as it were. Satisfying two vices at once. “Young man,” she prompted, ready to get the sale on. “Are you still there young man?”

“Of course I’m here,” Sandy shot back bitterly. Stupid bots, he thinks inwardly. Always questioning whether you’re real or not or here or not. I suppose it’s a defense mechanism built into their kind.

“I –“. But she broke down here and forgot what she was doing. The next carton beckoned. She pulled up the dress from her stockinged legs and retrieved. Sandy turned away, having seen enough old in his days of taking care of ma-ma and Aunty Jenn. Sandy gave up in that direction. He decided she was just leading him on.

“Like what you see?” The older woman then spoke toward bakery attendant Betty John Hammock and confidently declared, “he likes what he sees,” making her nod. Stupid bots.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0512, Jeogeot^^, Marwood, NWES Island^

return?

Gabby Truth gave Judge Tronesisia a ride back to Toppsity from Cassandra City, since it was his destination as well. No need for the underwater train today. Relief! Tronesisia liked to stay on the surface of things; not get too deep. What if a window broke and her compartment flooded. Rust! The enemy of all antiquated mechanoids, with her as no exception. Gabby gabbed a considerable amount, of course, but it was definitely worth it. She decided to use a lot of head nodding early on. Then she nodded off completely for a while as Gabby talked on and on about scrying devices, his new car, the weather, the strange flu of course — everyone’s favorite topic these days. He must have talked 15 minutes about the significance of the number 19 in her reading, and also Paper. He probably talked 20 more minutes about wedding anniversary gifts starting with Paper and ending with Diamond. Unlike his speedy Little Bastard car, it took him a long time, then, to go from 0 to 60, ha ha.

But then, the witches get the last laugh (as usual). Road block. Literally, a huge block of plywood in the road. Witches sometimes aren’t very subtle in their messaging. Looks like Yoko Ona’s trial will have to be postponed yet another day.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0512, Cassandra City^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Toppsity^

change of heart

“F-ck it, SEAN. Let’s go to New York.”

“New *What*?”

—–

“Sure wish Marsha was here. To help me.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0512, Corsica^^, Storybrook^