“An island!” Firey calls from the top. “And about the right size too. Maybe we’ve found our Dream home after all!”
“Cool!” says his riding companion Leafy clinging to his legs below. “Let’s get a closer look. But *careful*.”
“Whoa, that was a *close* call with that big building, Firey. I told you to be careful!”
“And *I* told you when we started I don’t know how any of this works! I’m just along for the ride like you!”
“*Not* cool (still)!”
“Uh oh,” says observing fisherman Mr. Z, watching them move closer to the ground…
Closer… closer…..
*CRASH*
“*Well*,” says tossed aside Firey, trying to make the best of a bad situation. “We’re… here?”
Leafy leaps up, surveys the damage. “Firey what have you done?! Now we’ll never be able to return to Goikyland! Glider — *destroyed*!”
An exclamation which the people holding service behind the red doors of the Church of Ood they just crashed into would surely have heard if they weren’t laughing so hard at Pitch Darkly and his cussing about the blood spurt he’d received on his chest from the clown sacrifice up front, ha ha ha, he he he!! Even wife Mary beside him couldn’t subdue a smile. The landed spurt must have also exactly coincided with the crash outside come to think of it. Cool? Not cool? To be seen, perhaps.
On the other side of the island, All Orange senses another object-character is here with him now. No, make that two other object-characters, he amends.
He rushes inside to place a call to his Constantynople contact.
“Excuse me, Phyllis (Phyllis!),” Al says when hearing a particular ring tone and understanding who is on the other side. “I have to take this. Business matters.”
But Phyllis was still laughing at the matters in the church. Remotely. We’re talking about some kind of doppelganger spirit here.
“Hallo?” Reply. “2 of ’em, eh?” Reply. “Find them before anyone else if possible?” Reply. “I’ll try.” Reply. “Okay, I’ll *do*. Goodbye, All Orange.” He hangs up. “Goodbye forever I wish,” he says to himself and himself only. He turns around but Phyllis is on the ottoman now. Both of ’em.
“Sit down, Al,” they cackle as one, scrunched down to only a laughing/smiling head. “I’ll bring them to us, no worries.”
“Here,” Firey says, spreading his stick arms out before it. “I feel that we should go here.”
(to be continued)
Sunklands 