Category Archives: 0704

00410704

He gives her time to look around the office, check out the maps, the painting, the works on the bookshelf, even the files in the filing cabinets if she wishes. What does he care? Sleep deprivation again we’ll assume; might as well burn the place down, he thinks while yawning for the 1000th time tonight. He finally gathers the energy to enlarge himself again — *just* enough to do the job (no overshot or undershot this time!). He waits for her to walk out, snooping apparently done.

“Find what you need, my fine lady?” he calls over, shocking her of course. It’s here he notices the face scars as she stares over with wide eyes. Too bad: otherwise quite pretty.

“Are you him?” she decided to stand her ground, defend her actions. “Are you Petty?”

“Some call me that. Some only know me as Chef. Or Inspector, depending on the time of day. Or depending on whether it is day or night I should say. You’re here at night. I assume you’re looking for Petty the Inspector, then.”

She approached him, scars looming larger. What *happened* to her?

“I also go by different names,” she said in turn. “Some call me Beautiful, some Plain. Some call me June, some Jane. Right now I’m June — night-time for me as well, I suppose. But the scars are there to remind me of Jane.”

“Yess,” he said. “Wondering about that. How did–”

“I just told you,” she cut him short. “I’m a 2n1, just like you. We have that in common but we have so much more. St. Lemon of Troy — the painting within. Do you know about Dennis?”

“Dennis,” he said thoughtfully. “Let me think…” Let me think of a *lie*, he says to himself. He *knew* he shouldn’t have hung that painting on top of everything else. His brain’s starting to operate better, perhaps because of its change back the correct size.

“St. Dennis, yes. The one that lost his head in the transition. The next time, the next go, he wore a helmet, golden in color. But it still didn’t protect him from the eventual consequence. So he had to be *deflected*.”

She know about that as well, he thinks. “Well,” he says to this. “Saints Hotel is a pretty nice place to stay, nice compensation. And anyway, I’ve heard that he and his *gang* have finally made their way down to the big city, the 8th wonder of the world some call it.”

“Where’s the auto in all this?”

“Auto?” He still couldn’t help play dumb within the flow of truthful revelations. Force of habit.

“You know which auto. You have pins of Yvonne, Dorenna and, yes, Anton inside on the Nautilus City map. Anton from Anson. I understand you were there when it first appeared, or when — I suppose — it first decided to reveal itself.”

“The Bug, yes.” Enough talk for now, he decided. He remembers that he’d locked the filing cabinets before enlarging himself tonight. At least he had the sense to do that. But perhaps it was time to look inside.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0704, Big Woods, Jeogeot, Nautilus, Nautilus City^

yes, it’s bad

She invited them into her trailer for more talk but there was nowhere to sit and they had to just stand and watch her accomplish her stretching exercises, saying she had to do them every half hour on the button (her archaic expression) or else her ancient body would simply start to freeze up. “A bit chained to the trailer, then,” she said. “I was just joking about the being away part before, lassie,” she spoke directly to Sarah. “I just don’t have a dot to be a presence.” Sarah checked the in-world map again in her head. Two green dots together apparently representing her and Al beside her in the sim of Coyote Canyon here. But no third. Mid-Hazel was right. What *were* they dealing with here?

“Beautiful, wasn’t I?” she said, apparently indicating the portrait of a young woman beside her, one of the few objects in the trailer besides the exercise stand and some random decorations. “Toast of Ghosttown, high in the sky it was. But not a skybox. A plateau.” She switched to about the 5th or 6th stretching position. “Almost done,” she excused the necessity. “But I may have to start again if you’re here long enough. Are you staying for dinner?” Mid-Hazel resisted the urge to joke that, “they’re it.” Plenty of time for macabre later on. Henry’s mouth outside was already salivating at the sight of the boy’s featured body. The girl he will leave to Junior (also salivating).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0039, 0704, Bellisaria, Western Hills

reaching out

Arthur and Edward had an eyefull. “Constantyne, huh?” Arthur, the hubby, finally managed about the creator of the thing. “Queen of the cows, eh?”

“*I’m* queen of the cows,” crowed Jennifer to this, author of 37 romance novels, almost 38. “Or will be. Once my infiltration is complete. This is just step 01 of a 03 or 04 step process.”

“No need to bring zeroes into this.”

“No,” said Shelley, thinking Arthur’s sentence was more compliment than criticism. He was reading into what she said, seeing between the lines. However thin they may be. He looks again, then looks over at Edward doing the same. Might as well be a much thicker line drawn down the center of the room between them, real on his side, irreal or fantasy on the other. Romance novels, pheh. 2 boats in one, hmph. Both 6’5″, both the same size and shape. She *manufactured* him. But then he had a rethink. Both of them? She claimed she was now Jennifer after all. Not Shelley. He questioned further, not persuaded despite all the evidence.

“Will you still work for Al during all this? You said Thomas Boyy — whatever he’s called –.”

“She,” said Jennifer to this. “He’s also a she.”

“Whatever (again). Anyway, you were assigned to Al by him… or her.”

“TOM calls the shots, the male-female synergy at the top of the pyramid that is also the pyramid itself. He/she said to stay in FILE, in the column that is centered upon Constantynople, upon the Temple of TILE there to be specific. Upon the *front door* of the place to be even more specific. Right on the equator. Kenosha is at the top, Tomasina is one down, then Tigger after that.”

Tigger, she thought. Zero Hero! Arthur’s sentence back there was more criticism than complement, she realized. She must return…

She stopped her stands and indicated the filing cabinets in the corner of the 1 room building, a tiny house the owner calls it, neighbor to the Land of the Cows in Tigger as it turns out. The obvious “secret” agent who also owns the body swapping machine Arthur and Edward stumble upon to find out they were one and the same deep down. Thus the logical progression to *here*. “See what you can find in (those cabinets) — probably another clue. I’ll check back, say, tomorrow. Stay *put* until then. Maybe play cards with each other to pass the time, get to *know* each other better. Understand differences as well as sameness. You have your assignment. *Subordinates*.” She took her leave with that.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0704, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File

00360704

“What are we negotiating *now*, Young Me?”

“The return of Karoz Blogger to Mainland, Jeogeot continent in particular. Somoco specifically. The Julia House to pinpoint.”

“Ahh,” spoke the old hag that was also Shelley. “You want a return to the *N* (for it).”

“Not… necessarily.”

“You *know* what that means,” she says while nodding her head up and down in an irritatingly frantic way to Shelley.

“I… do.”

—–

Wasn’t going to happen, both knew, but they were playing along. The unexpected beaver float in the cove out back pinpointed *this* location. Something had to happen here. They were experimenting. They started again.

“You *know* you will retain your current form.”

“Yes,” said Shelley back to her older self. Much older.

“You and Arthur will continue to be married. Might be rocky. Might be bumps in the road. Maybe a pothole or two. But you will persist. I should know.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you want–?”

“No.” She didn’t.

“Get in the float,” the old hag then said. “Easy as that. Transport,” she explained. “From this photo-novel to the next. Just get inside. Enjoyy.”

Shelley stared over, wondering if this was on the up and up or not. She couldn’t tell. The old witch was ahead of her again. “I’ll… give you a big ol’ choco chip cookie if you do it. You can hold it in front of you. Like a steering wheel. You are a Carr… repeat after me. You are a Carr.”

“I am a Carr.”

“You are a *Carr*.”

“I *am* a Carr.”

“You are… well, you know the rest.”

—–

“Come on, Carr,” urged Clifton Mahoney, full transferred over from Baker Bloch. “I know it’s early but your bath is 5 days overdue. Get your drying moss ready.”

“Broken,” the great olive being replied.

“I know. We’re going to get you fixed up… cleaned up.”

“Not what–”

“I know. Come on, get up. I know you can do it.”

“Need… help.”

“Why I’m here.” And he moved toward Carr to help her get started.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0704, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Towerboro

wheel (red-violet opposite yellow-green)

“You look troubled, Harry.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yes. For using my real name. Amanda.”

“Yes, thank you too. I understand the frustration sometimes.” Juanita doesn’t look off-screen for direction, thought Jerry within Harry here. She goes with the punches. She’s a winner(!).

“The only thing worse than a child actor is an actor acting like a child,” Harry says, still improvising, still venting.

“So true,” Amanda replies.

—–

“Should we stop them? asked Thomas behind the scenes to Kurt, knowing when Jerry gets on a roll like this it could run a while. Look at “Mission Impossible”.

“No, we can edit later,” director Kurt Strawb, a 1/2 himself, says back to his assistant on the set. “Let him say what he wants to say. Heck, this is about the only time he’s actually acting, you know. During the ad-libs. He gets into them, lets his personality go.”

“I hear ya.”

—–

“5,000 dollars, Amanda? Try *50*, as in 50,000. That’s what my daily debts are up to.”

——

“So true to real life,” spoke Thomas, marveling at the acting that wasn’t much of an act atall.

—–

Across the room:

“Would you look at him over there, *acting* like nothing has happened. Do you know how much that weasel bastard owes me? Do you want to wager a guess?”

Tom and Jerrie (different!) stay quiet. Sam the Taker who is also Sam the Toker is on a roll too. 10 ones? Try one. As in: one. It was all a ruse, a scam.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0704, Omega^^, Southern

00300704

She was staring not at the fire but a little bit up and to the right like she was good at. That should have been me, she dwelled.

Nearby, Baker Bloch had gotten pretty good on the piano, graduating from “Chop Sticks” to chromagraphic lines of modality. Next up: half lines; doubly long. He can hardly wait. Full blown computer music could be next.

The swallowtail flag points to it: Rainbow Sphere.

“Baker?” she called over as he hit Middle C once again, as he’d done over and over tonight. It stayed lit up from use as his fingers retreated.

“Yes?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0704, Heterocera

00290704

He’d landed in the right spot. Now to end this.

—–

You’ll have to excuse our friend Square. He hasn’t caught up with the book yet.” He looks over, notes the blonde hair. “I see you’re turning into Jennifer Lane again. Good one. Veyot likes that one.”

I took another sip of of my 4 shot latte and wrote:  “Yes, I further said it was a real place, and *now* — since I spoke to her — (the maturation) means something else. Retirement, the library becoming an increasingly far away and fuzzy edifice after that. I proceed forward with my new life, my new eyes. I will have no need for physical books any longer. I am my *own* book. I am beyond my Firesign Theatre period, having absorbed the Piera (“Billfork” through “Uncle Meatwad”). I am even beyond the positive carrcasses (“Cpt. Mouse” through “Shiny Hare”). I enter something different.”

“Good, good,” he said. “All and well.” He becomes Square and makes another collage.

“These…overlaps,” he says, now studying, now reading the physical book again while turned away, “are becoming interesting. Comings and goings. Dr. Mouse arrives at the same time he departs.” He turns the page. 5 seconds later: “And *Zach and Lena*. Aren’t they a couple already?”

I check his pronouncement with my already changed eyes. “Yes. Too much information,” I decided. “We must end and then begin again. Clean the slate.”

He switches sides of the couch again. “Downstairs first,” forward looking Circle requests. “We must speak with a few more people in this one.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0704, Nautilus, Southwestern

zircon encrusted tweezers

Perhaps the Kidd Tower never should have been eradicated from this cozy corner of NWES City, Man About Time thinks while flying above it all again. It’s another “what if…”, but the Kidd Tower remains in Collagesity, on the *Nautilus* continent. Not here, though, in its more natural position on the Jeogeot continent which NWES City acts as a crown jewel of — was *suppose* to act that way. Now its Black Ice is being depopulated, victim of urban overbuild. But I still have Moe’s in Apple’s Orchard, he thinks. And Charlene still has her coffee bar down in Black Ice, and Stumpy still lives with fellow head Gotham above the record store there. Gotham, he realizes. A black person in Black Ice: exactly what I need. He knows where he must head next.

—–

“You’re not suppose to smoke it in your *nose*, you silly person,” he exclaimed as they lounged around in his and Stumpy’s apartment and partaking a bit before heading out to… where? Not much left in Black Ice except Charlene’s coffee bar. Gotham tells Man About Time this.

“Then let’s (*cough*), go to Collagesity. Mabel will be singing (*cough cough*) at the Montana Bar tonight.”

“Really?” said Gotham, use to strange pot talk and the lies it can surface. Blue over red, as Stumpy might explain it. Or something — he can’t remember the exact phrase he uses right this moment. Also something about octaves. And doctors.

“Yeah (*cough*).” Man About Time can hardly breathe now. He had to get out of here. It was foolish for him to toke, even if only through the nose. He was still high enough to fly. He could go back over to Apple’s Orchard right now and probably see the Kidd Tower there in that cozy corner, like it never left. He remembers that Mabel wasn’t singing tonight, and that the Montana Bar hadn’t been built yet. But it will. If other things line up as planned — dominoes. “Let’s, er (*cough cough cough*), go to my place over there instead.”

“What place? You don’t live *here*?”

Man About Time didn’t have breath to explain. He could only manage: “I’ll (*wheeze*) send-you-a-link,” which meant a teleport invite. He knew his apartment was home base — easy reach — and that he hadn’t changed it to the Blue Feather yet. Why would he?; he wasn’t ruler of Collagesity *yet*. Mabel’s dad wasn’t Billy Ray Cyrus — *yet*. Charlene the Punk wasn’t Fern the super-witch…”

“Link to where?” Gotham interjected, making Man About Time remember to teleport himself. But he ended up just falling asleep on the couch afterwards, forgetting about Gotham until the morning. He phoned him up.

“I was waiting here — *all* *night*,” Gotham protested about the disappearance and the missing invite.

“I’ll make it up to you,” came the mild reply. “Montana, I mean, Mabel is singing next week as it turns out. Everything lined up.”

—–

That night at Moe’s Bar:

“Stumpy. Where’d you get that poster?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Why?”

“Was Dinah, Moe’s…*wife*?”

They’d both find out at Mabel’s Montana gig.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0704, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island^

wedding 02

Barefoot Toothpick had a dream that night. The overalls were removed again. He was walking across a field of delicious green grass that should be a paved, car filled street toward a building that would answer it all. Instead it was full of playing kids and supervising parents who were also having fun, shrugging away the burden of responsibility for the time being. Fun. Toothpick should be having that too. But he had other things to do he knew were both right and wrong at the same time. It was as if truth were suspended in mid-air before him off a bridging pole.

The location? Picton, but it wasn’t called that any longer, not after this festival or whatever it is. The name was now Pict on Pict, short for Picture on Picture, a new blog category. Heck, let’s just call it Picturetown, or maybe Frametown if we draw out a bit more. But we can’t right this moment because of the setting, blackness or the abyss all around. Picturetown it is.

Elberta meets him near the threshold. Certain Death is both at the front window and nearer the door, another 2n1 situation since time is overlapping here again (Munday = Sunday + Monday). She knew she’d have to lose the body to go inside. They hold hands.

Not what they were expecting.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0704, Black Ice, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, NWES Island^, Rose Heaven^^

end

She was waiting to get her red tie and watching DeBoy up front ask question after question to Miss Graham the teacher. Soon she would be as inept as him but it wouldn’t last long. She had some cheat notes. The 5 looking on were eager to have a new host. Their stares through a window to her soul made Hucka Doobie nervous and scratch her arm until it almost bled on top of the bleeding heart tattoo that came with the body she’s had, oh, since Tammy Whatammy pushed her into that collage and sent her reeling reeling reeling (back?) to Gaston and that jail cell with *him*. The Most Ancient One: Casey One Hole. Another scratch here.

Miss Graham was readjusting the vast series of equations on her blackboard to include the new variable: the snapping red tie, which we know now is the same as a picture taking camera. Hucka Doobie had been exposed, with the prints now developing in a Red Room not far from here. On Level D I believe. She had no other choice, then. The red tie must go along with the red dress. Wish someone would have told me that before, she thinks while the chalk dust flies again up front, a finalizing equation.

What of Baker Bloch? Who will take care of him now, act as his sounding board when needed, give him sage advice when necessary (a lot!)? The people here helping with the transition say his other part, Baker Blinker, flew in from Chilbo yesterday but only to say goodbye, really. She, as Magika Bean, is starting her wrestling tour with Flip Bean — Wheeler — day after tomorrow’s Tuesday. Another jett plane flying not to war technically but certainly to battles. Battles do not necessarily add up to war all the time. Magika and Flip are friendly adversaries if you know what I mean, another 1/2 and 1/2, but she wasn’t suppose to use that expression for a while. That’s what the intervention group told her and she’s following through, kind of. 1/2 and… jeez. She rolls her eyes here while glancing up front again. Oh, something is happening making the situation slightly more interesting now. Miss Graham is pulling DeBoy by the tie toward her! She’s… planting a kiss on not his head but… his lips! She’s dragging him sideways now with the tie past the board with all the equations, and then behind it. She’s…

Hucka Doobie can’t look any more. But she’ll get his tie this way. Until she decides to relinquish it herself in the same manner.

—–

She looks at the 5 after it’s finished. She scratches again.

Miss Graham approaches down the aisle; soon they’ll be a part of her. Here comes the tie. The head passes through the knotted hole. Miss Graham straightens and tightens it around her neck. She feels them enter, one by one by one until all 5 are there to say, “hi!”.

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2020 LATER”.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0704, Maebaleia/Satori