“Catchup and Mustered! Stop pestering poor, drunk little Orange Boy and get back on the counter. Break time’s over!”
—–
“I *had* a girl,” proclaims a still wobbly Fisher, leaning against the bar counter 15 minutes later.
Here we go again, thought Missus Lemon.
“And I let her get away.” Fisher takes a gulp of his fresh golden beer and looks down. “Yellow,” he explained.
“Like me?” Lisa the Vegetarian Smipson stood like a dream in the doorway to Bar Lemon.
“OMG. OMG!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0617, Wallytown/Fishers Island^
“Don’t you guys watch anything but MTV?” complained Bill/Wheeler good-naturedly.
“I’m telling you Queen Bill.”
“Bill, please. Or The Bill. Whichever.”
“You were sitting *right* there when you told me we had to move our trailer here to Rubi. Well, not in that chair, but the chair I use to have over in Obscure.”
Bill tested the springs again a little. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about this furniture — we’ll get you a better chair. And the toilet in the living room!
Unacceptable. I’ll get Clyde the town fixit man out here as early as I can. He’s working on the pipes of the Oo’d Church this weekend. But we’ll get him out here asap.”
“The dining room set is nice,” states Angus Nuffin, attempting to paint a brighter picture of their situation than Bill.
“No, this is my responsibility. I’m early in my rulership. I’ll right the wrong.”
“Okay, that’s great Bill. We really appreciate it. Now… back to that night you visited me in Obscure…”
—–
“She just doesn’t remember it,” Angus complains to his daughter Ragdoll later on while sitting at the dining table. “And I don’t know how to jog her memory. She’s new at her job — *I’m* new at this. Indigo can *hypnotize* with the best, but unhypnotizing someone like Bill (he was going to say, “as stubborn as” but decided on “like” here) — not as easy as I, we, supposed.”
Ragdoll listened intently. “Then maybe The Diagonal itself should wake her up. Indigo could take her on a walk in the woods…” She paused, thinking of a better idea. “Or…”
“Obviously, Obscure is no good, since we moved the trailer from there because of the lowered energy.”
Ragdoll remained patient, knowing her beloved father was under a lot of pressure right now to bring back Bill’s memories. “What I was going to say,” she continued in her kind way, “is that we should take her to a particular place on The Diagonal. But not Obscure.”
“Right, right. Sorry I interrupted you there.” Distracted by a sound behind him, Angus looked at the clock. 2:01 in the morning. “We better get some sleep. Looks like Indigo is staying in the woods again tonight. Good for her! I couldn’t ask for 2 more dedicated daughters to the cause. Pot-D forever!”
“Pot-D forever!” echoed Ragdoll almost as enthusiastically.
“Before you turn in, sweetie, let’s take one more look at your brand new alternate self.”
“Okay, but only if you change in turn,” replied Ragdoll sweetly.
“Alright, Zero. On the count of 3, then. 1…2…”
“You look great, Ragdoll.”
“Shirley, please. When I’m in this form.”
“Of course.” Angus/Sid watched Ragdoll/Shirley scratch again. “But we have to give you something for those fleas, birthday girl.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0617, 0701, Rubi^
The Bakers stare at Eraserhead Man while he rants. “It’s ‘HOW’S ANNIE?’ for PETE’S sake! And I MADE my successful ‘Return’! No more ‘WORST ENDING LINE IN TELEVISION HISTORY’ talk for ME!”
The Bakers then turn to his riding companion to the dinner, Robot Derak Jones, and stare. “I said I’m *sorry* I forgot to remind him to bring his hearing aid!”
“LEMONADE?! NO THANKS!”
—–
After the party, The Bakers clean up and discuss amongst themselves a more proper ending to “Collagesity 2018 Early”.
“Annie should be in the dunes,” offers Baker Blinker. “Just wandering around at night, lonely after Karl had, er, been forgotten. Do we know what happened to Karl?”
Baker Bloch talked while continuing to scrub omlet stains out of a pan. “I think (he scrubs some more), I think Tropp took his place in the Bluebird Cuddle Van. True Opp, I meant there.”
“The more realistic and human version of the Mmmmmm Opp, yes. The one that came out the pipe on the far side…”
“Anyway, that’s what I’ve got.”
“Seems kind of vague,” opines the female Baker. “How would we go about bringing Karl back, if it could be done? I *love* playing that role, after all.”
Baker Bloch finally manages to remove the last egg stain from the pan; hands it to Baker Blinker for drying. “Let’s go outside and sit and discuss it more.”
—–
“Sun’s setting again, Other Baker. Days are so short here. What is it? 3 hours of day, then an hour of night?”
“Think so.”
“So short,” he repeats. “*Could* we get use to that?”
Baker Blinker takes in the implication. “You’re saying we should just *move* here? Aren’t you? That’s how Karl can live on. That’s how New Island and the rest can continue onward forever and ever.”
“We have this cave, after all. Seems pretty empty overall. Vacated, I mean; owners aren’t around much. We can prepare and cook meals, then clean. We can continue to have parties with Robot Derak Jones, Eraserhead Man, and the rest. Given time, we’re sure to figure out a way to bring Karl back.”
“Write out Tropp,” states Baker Blinker, shifting her weight in the Sunlounger. “Write out Madam Mexico or whatever you’re calling her. Get rid of New Eden altogether. It’s just New Island and The End. Ellen and his assistant Sidechick don’t have to be right about *everything*.”
“Let’s take a walk. Let’s go down to the bridge and turn around.”
—–
“It seems like ages ago when I first crossed this bridge in the Spookmobile, Other Baker. But it was only a little over a year ago. I didn’t remember how I got here to New Island afterwards. The Spookmobile turned into a Love Bug. I guess you were back in Collagesity when all this happened. I turned into Mabel, got out of the car and then sat back in as myself so I could reach the pedals — and I was already trapped.”
“Mid-Hazel,” Baker Blinker responds.
Baker Bloch sighs. “I don’t even like to say her name. Wheeler was *so wrong* to get in cahoots with her.”
“That’s why we need to blow it up.”
Baker Bloch’s face expressed confusion. “The *bridge*?”
“Ummm…”
—–
But then they made the mistaken of wandering even further — under the bridge and south into the abandoned art colony in the dead of night. Safer Barnaby Point here, but then a couple of steps beyond: Artist Point proper. Someone or something followed them. Baker Blinker’s facelight soon winked out, a tell tale sign.
It was just Baker Blinker, Baker Bloch, and that person or thing alone in there. Forever and ever?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0008, 0617, Mexico, New Island^
“But how??” Jacob I. couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. Core-alena had returned to the center of Second Lyfe!
A red handed Duncan Avocado begins his confession. “Lovely and beautiful, yes,” he said, echoing some of Jacob I.’s earlier talk about Snowlands and Second Lyfe overall. “But ultimately doomed to failure, just like Laura in the Twin Peaks enterprise. Unless I restored the center. There was only one way to do it. Move Wheeler away from the tree at the weakest point of her existence. Which was right here. In Cloudmont, just before she arrived at Purden Castle. Do you remember? She was with Snowmanster, who is also actually you again at the core. They had walked a great distance and Snowmaster was purposefully draining her of energy. She had to jettison the Old Grey avatar and become herself again. Lovely and beautiful, yes, but subject to decline and death in that moment. *This* is the ring.”
“You killed her,” spoke Jacob I., staring at Duncan’s red extremities. “You murdered her with your own bare hands. That kept her away from the tree (Core-alena), in the first place. Woody Woodmanson warned us of her aberrations that very night in the castle. It was all set up.”
Duncan Avocado allowed Jacob I.’s inaccurate theories to thread out before responding. “*Jeffrie Phillips* set it up. He appeared in the center of Gaston tonight, right where I was attempting to teleport in. I didn’t recognize him at first. He was a black man, like myself. But there was no murder involved. Just a movement. My hands have always been red. It’s a medical condition.”
“Interesting.” Jacob I. shakes his head. “Jeffrie Phillips.” He then begins his own confession. “Broken Heart and I have tried and tried to stabilize Collagesity through various gimmicks since arriving through that portal last October. Each one doomed to failure: Wheeler and The Musician — doubled bed trick failed. Spookmobile — stolen once again and then again; no ‘Pumpkintwisters’ meeting finalized. Then Hucka Doobie was pushed into the first Hunt collage which was not the first Hunt collage before this happened. Collagewold,” Jacob I. emphasized. “He’s inside now. That was the way out all along.”
“Yes,” affirmed Duncan. “You must go back to Gaston and set me free and allow me to do what I just did in the past and future as well as the present. Else it is all for naught. Your precious Sugar Dumpling awaits you. All the Berries. You *do* miss that life there, don’t you? Broken Heart can accompany you back, of course. And there’s *pot*. Pot galore, thanks to Leona Lei and the Hilltoppers.”
“Leona! I knew she’d come through.” Jacob I. whirled around in his tracks. “You hear that Broken Heart?”
Duncan disappeared from in front and Broken Heart appeared behind. “I hear ya!” She was already counting how many times she could get high in one day.
END OF COLLAGESITY 2017-2018 WINTER!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0617, Purden/Snowlands^
Rocky goes back to Middletown and sets monstrously green Gregg Oden free from his small prison. He immediately becomes red clad Greg Ogden again, planning out his next oil painting of Treasure Hill (*not* a watercolor). Rocky sees an army base nearby and decides to turn in his resignation. Since entering the war 4 days back, Rocky had risen to the rank of lieutenant, soon to be captain in several more hours. It was time to end the insanity before he climbed to the very top of the ranks and was in charge of the whole kit and caboodle. He didn’t want to be trapped in that!
“Wrong side,” he said while looking at the wall behind the central desk within. “Oh well, it’s all games and pretend anyway.” He then saw the name on the typewriter at the desk. He sat down and studied it to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. The brand name: Raccoon.
Rocky found himself typing. And typing and typing. In a matter of hours, he had unfurled his whole story from Olde Lapara Towne, Collagesity, and Middletown. The stack of paper by his side kept growing higher, yet he went on. Future adventures. Collagesity and beyond. Mushroom house in the Adirondacks. Must keep going higher. Higher. To the top.
Two days later he was finally finished. He had risen to the rank of 5 star general, overseeing the whole Gulf engagement. He sent word to his lesser generals. Put down your arms. The insanity is over. There is no war any more. There never was.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0617, Jeogeot, Middleton^
Because Karoz had put so much work into the rocket ship, the Bakers made sure Mary’s trip to Muff-Bermingham was a bigger affair than Tronesisia’s before her. Most of the town turned out for the event, with the notable exception of Karoz himself, along with mate Baker Blinker. Thing is, the exhausted moss being, working around the clock for the past several days in order to get everything right about the ship, had now come down with a nasty bit of flu, with the female Baker having to tend to him. Also absent was Wheeler.
“Where is she?” asked Mary to Baker Bloch in a loud whisper, disappointed that her clown possessed friend was not present to see her off. Baker just shrugged. “Why don’t you go ahead and start, Mary. I’m sure she’ll be along.”
Composing herself, Mary began. “I’d like to thank everyone for showing up. A special thanks goes out to Karoz Blogger, who couldn’t be with us today due to illness. We wish him a speedy recovery. Without his mastery of scripting, I wouldn’t be standing before you here, about to embark on a mission of utmost importance to a distant corner of our known universe. Collagesity is about to enter a new chapter of existence, another turning point in its already long history of change and evolution. I want to extend a heartfelt gratitude to the whole town for welcoming Pitch and me so readily into its arms, along with fellow newcomer Woody Woodmanson (Woody stands up and bows stiffly). I know that you will, so to speak, hold down the fort while I am away, which shouldn’t be long.”
Mary shuffles her feet, thinking of George, then continues. “As you all know, I’m not the first of our kind to visit this distant planet called Muff-Bermingham.” She clears her throat. “Most immediately, we have Pitch and I’s good friend Tronesisia journeying up to this place only 6 days back. We fear her mission of rescuing fellow robot Bendy has not proceeded as planned. A snag has been hit.” She looks toward Pitch and Baker Bloch for encouragement. “Our best guess… is that they have been separated on opposite sides of this world by malefic forces, Muff for Bendy and Bermingham for Tronesisia. My own mission is to stitch up the involved rift and make Muff-Bermingham whole once and for all. For that to happen, I need to introduce a new element.”
She begins sobbing here. Pitch gets up and continues for her. “Take a seat sweetie and rest for a spell.”
Pitch’s words: “I’d also like to thank the whole community for welcoming us, fellow refuges from the sprawling urban landscape to our northeast called VHC City. A sister city indeed still, firmly straddling The Continental Diagonal which also runs through our marvelous Linden woods to the immediate west and use to cut through an older incarnation of Collagesity itself. Help me out, Baker Bloch. What was it called?”
“VWX Town,” pipes up the male Baker.
“Yes,” resumes Pitch. “And there’s also a somewhat smaller woods near VHC City called the PCH Forest coming into play now. More on that later.” He shifts from right to left a couple of times, head down, figuring out what to say next. How to put it? Mary and I are with child? Mary and I are expecting? But who is the real father? Last night, Mary confessed to him about that vivid dream in the old house, just before they left VHC City. Could Osborne Well really have done what Mary described? It was something they desperately needed to find out. Perhaps not to save their relationship, per se (they’ve also decided to become engaged when all this Muff-Bermingham mess gets clears up!), but just to uncover the truth. Who is George really? What happened to him and Duncan all those years ago?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0617, Heterocera, Rubi^
The children rock inside while Uncle Jack approaches the window, telling them the deed is done. The fake Uncle Jack has been buried out in the backyard along with the fake children that showed up yesterday. Blue has switched with pink. No pink clad twins in this storyline! But perhaps their ghosts will haunt the oversized trailer later on.
After supper, the children sit on the porch while Uncle Jack stays back in the kitchen. He always seems to be cooking or cleaning there.
“I’ve seen inside their room,” says Buurb, sitting on the wooden flooring opposite Old Mabel.
She makes a shocked face. “But *how*? The door is always locked.”
“Remote viewing. You don’t know that trick yet?”
Old Mabel’s shoulders ease back a little. “Of course. But I don’t like to pry. What’s behind closed doors should stay behind closed doors.”
“Not how it works around here,” answers Buurb, who was naturally nosier than his counterpart. “Anyway, they’re dead now. What do they care if we peek around inside. I could even lay in their beds if I wished. You could too.”
“Don’t you *dare*,” reprimands Old Mabel. “This Livigno sim will serve us well as long as we obey the rules set up by Uncle Jack. Do I need to tell them again to you? There are only three.” Buurb was about protest that she doesn’t need to do this again when she stands up anyway and begins.
“One…”
“…if the fake people show up, they will be killed and disposed of in the backyard.”
“Two…”
“… don’t leave the Livigno sim because all answers are here.”
“Three…”
“… *never* enter the Story Room.” She sits back down in the executive chair. “Any questions Buurb? Buuuuurb?” Old Mabel knew Buurb hated it when the double vowels in his name were stretched out like that.
“Um, yeah actually.” He puts his index finger to his chin smugly. “I’ve been thinking about this. If all the answers are here, in this sim (he points down), and Story Room is part of this sim — *if* it’s part; perhaps its beating heart as Jack once put it — then maybe the answers are in that room.”
Uncle Jack’s ears prick up in the kitchen. He thinks about the still bloodied axe against the wall around the corner.
“We can just march in and get them,” Buurb continues. “That’s the, er, paradox of all this, where the head eats the tail. We stay in the sim, but must never look into the *heart* of the sim? Ever thought about that Old Mabel?”
“This is not the Garden of Adam and Eve.”
“Isn’t it?”
—–
At the same time and 100 yards to the northwest, Wheeler tries to teleport back into her adopted Ayas cabin after buying a stack of books, a Lisa Simpson cutout, and some ice cream down the hill at Inferialist, but instead finds herself in a hidden space underneath.
On the other side of the wall she discovers more.
Buurb was looking in the wrong place.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0617, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara
Sunklands 