Category Archives: Estate

June 24, 2020 · 3:57 pm

umbrella dunces (i.e., all of us)

—–

“We have to get the brain back, Hucka Doobie. The Abbey can’t survive without it! I’ve seen the picture of the others. It always ends with collapse.”

Hucka takes another sip of her espresso, then: “Perhaps it has something to do with Phil. He is a good spirit aid. He believes in the Piera. He will convince the others.”

“Well — I am READing his book. Finally. I felt that he was waiting.”

“Patiently, though. Spirits are patient in general. Moreso than we are. They have — *time*.”

“It’s *good*. It should have been published.”

“It still can,” returned Hucka Doobie quickly. She takes another sip. She looks beyond Baker Bloch as Kevin A. at the red and green illuminated school in the background. Like Christmas and Santa Claus. “We better get over there. Figure out Unwrap what’s next in the story.”

—–

He looks over at the letters, most of which he doesn’t understand.

“Let’s start at the very beginning,” Miss Crumplebottom offered to Kevin E., helping him read and turn back into Kevin Orchardsity with the A B C’s and 1 2 3’s and all.

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June 24, 2020 · 9:25 am

a ouija name

“You’re not listed.”

Waka Wajaka turns to face me. “I know.”

(*poof*)

A nearby green dot seemed to indicate he remained around, but I couldn’t re-find the guy.

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June 24, 2020 · 8:26 am

turning ugly

“You can take the Great Belt away, Walter. For now.”

“Buddy, sire,” softly and politely corrected the Selenite butler to his master.

“Yeah, sure. But Poetry and I are happy, Harry. We have some stuff to work on here for a while. Right Poetry?”

“Alberta,” she whispered back to lover Barry X. Vampire.

“What’s that dear?”

“Alberta!”

“Yes, madam?”

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June 24, 2020 · 6:25 am

Abbey

“My son use to *love* going to the elephant show over in Raccoon…”

“Great, Biggie,” interrupted the male Baker, wanting to get away from the character’s origin. “But let’s stick to the topic. Tell me what you saw happen in Room 03.”

“An outbreak, like I said. A loving wife killing her husband. Stabbed him in her eye, short ‘n’ sweet. The Triad is trying to get rid of any evidence of its existence. Thus the trouble in Dallows.”

“I’m not talking about that right now.” Baker Bloch pauses in his grilling to ponder the fate of the missing town there, and the rebuild. He checked yesterday. Only a couple of houses and a small forest to ride your horse through. No progress on that possibility. He resumes. “Let’s stay with the motel. You say your pal Mark A. saw a woman slice a man’s head open down in the town hospital and remove his brain, stick it in a sealed jar, and leave the hospital with it. How did he not tell the authorities this?”

“Witchcraft,” stated Big Black Smoke plainly to the primary owner of Urqhart’s (or thereabout’s) Collagesity. “And it was *no* man. It was a *God*.”

“Ahh, yes.” From their blue table and chairs, Baker Bloch looked around at the creation and saw it was good. David A. Or B. Both probably. But now: David A.B. Normal. Mr. Everyday Ordinary. He looked directly into Biggie’s eye. “And where is that Diamond of a Brain *now*?”

Big Black Smoke peered around as well, at the noisy cockatoo to their side spouting nonsense again. He could barely think above the racket. An umbrella cockatoo. Probably had all the answers. But who could understand her?? Except…

“Did it go home?” Baker Bloch guessed in the noisy silence. He wondered how long it would take *this* creation to collapse, just like what happened over in Stranger Creek.

(to be continued?)

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June 22, 2020 · 11:12 am

take and make

Sandman walks the rail, continuing to look for the one he calls The Spitter. He pauses to gander at this collection of junk on one side, knowing, through it, that he is indeed on the right track.

Onward…

—–

He finds another Lane to add to Penny, Arnold, Shelly at the end of this track, the latter a Firesign Theatre fan and a close match to his pattern, a two fer one fer zero kind of deal-i-o. Man.

The banana indicated *himself*.

He had no problem going further. He’d been walking away from Love for a looong time.

—–

Ant-man walked out of the rain to enter the lane.

—–

The rain catches up with him at The End. He is home.

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June 21, 2020 · 7:36 am

sickness

Teddy had seen it all coming and had tried to warn his master Baker Bloch about the impending event. With his hoof he had counted to five this day before the bay but purposefully stopped at six. Marty was not who he seemed to be. *No one* was who they seemed to be, not Marty, not The Mann, not Peter Oesso, nobody. Here they were all variants. The numbers one through five represent the time before the peak, when Penny Lane was a memory and not a song, when Strawberry Fields was a place as well. After the release of the double single — and accompanying album — something happened to The Beetles, indeed the world as a whole. Arnold Lane, another place that became not a place, played a role in this as well. I’m here to tell you: something happened.


Storybrook’s deserted Arnold Lane


Marty’s nearby, red-topped, bible-less church

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June 21, 2020 · 6:42 am

lean on me

“Are you going to open that can of worms *now*? You can’t fish properly without them, you know.”

In the boat before Baker Bloch, Yoko Ona seethed. “Who are you to tell *me* how to run my business? They agreed upon McCartney-Len –, I mean, Lennon-McCartney, *years* and years ago. I am honoring my late husband’s wishes. Marty just wants to rock the boat. He’s a trouble maker. In fact –.”

“He’s not even Paul,” Baker Bloch guesses. “A switch occurred. Arkansas,” he followed, thinking of how five progresses into six. Not quite all the numbers but getting there. Didn’t matter, though. *Here* he was Marty. All the signs were that he was Mozart instead of the other way around. And Lennon Lemon was, well, the other one, the *Jealous Guy*. He told this to Yoko Ona, standing her right side up so he could see directly into her eyes, into her soul, tell her what went wrong — and perhaps right as well but wrong especially. At this moment, in this instant.

Something happened to make Baker Bloch rethink his strategy. Yoko Ona returned to her boat, putting away the worms for good. There would be no fishing today in the Heartsdale Bay. Mid-Hazel had her tied around her little finger. It was the more powerful witch Baker had to deal with from now on. He had met his match. Time to send in the female (again).

(to be continued)

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June 20, 2020 · 4:15 pm

diet of worms

https://web.archive.org/web/20090619034926/http://dir.salon.com/story/ent/music/feature/2003/01/27/paul_yoko/index.html

Since Lennon’s death in 1980, McCartney has fought an uphill battle to assert his place in history, often finding himself dismissed as a shallow hack, a Salieri to Lennon’s Mozart, as Lennon’s widow Yoko Ono cruelly put it. So even as McCartney’s tunes continue to carry the load for the Beatles’ back catalog (14 of the 27 chart-topping songs featured on the group’s wildly successful “1” compilation were predominantly Paul’s, and another four were at least half-written by him), little of the prestige reflects back on him….

Seeing the mid-’90s “Beatles Anthology” releases as an attempt to rectify the historical record, McCartney asked Ono if his name could be placed ahead of Lennon’s, if only for the song “Yesterday”….

But Ono was adamant that the Lennon-McCartney billing should not be altered, arguing that it would be “opening a can of worms.” McCartney did not forget: Two years later, when Linda McCartney died of cancer, Ono was not invited to the New York wake.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there at your, ahem, wake. I’m sorry that you had to die, and in such a bad way. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that old thing,” she waved off. “Yeah, I died. But it really wasn’t me. As you are really not who you are either. Clones are standing by, as Mid-Hazel likes to say. I am only a product of Oregon; Merlin merely points that out. Where is Merlin anyway? Helping Golden Josephine out of that tight dress she likes to wear when digging more greenbacks out of men?”

“I don’t know,” Yoko returned simply and plainly, wondering who Merlin is. Another dead person?

(to be continued)

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June 19, 2020 · 7:32 am

Shoo memories. Shoo!

“You know that volcano over there has been erupting for about 5 years now. Never reaches the village here.”

Yoko Ona didn’t want to know about past history. She was concerned about the here and now and the threat of Mid-Hazel and her former gang finding her. Like ants (aunts?), they had vast powers to eat through time and space. She was not safe here, she realized. If young Ruby had made it through…

“We should go somewhere else — that’s what you’re thinking — isn’t it?” Ruby was totally in sync with Yoko Ona. She had forgotten, 5 loooong years ago, that she had created the fairy-witch herself in an all night orgy of drugs, sex, and rolling rock. Rolling on The River. All the way out to The Sea (of Painful Memories), never to be seen or heard from again. Until now. This present. Smaller Ruby Fairy had delivered her a present, just as she was designed to do.

She opened the present. Two red shoes. She knew where she had to go now. Home.

(to be continued?)

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June 19, 2020 · 5:57 am

drink diss

She sat all over the Witch’s Rock sim, taking in the views as she could, imprinting them in her memory. Soon another came to her, as she knew she would.

“Nice day,” the other spouted in a lilting voice, fluttering her dainty, glinty fairy wings a bit in the waxing light.

“”Tis,” Ruby answered her other self simply, knowing it was The End. For now.

“I suppose we’ll have to take the girl home.” And then it was over. Ruby Fantasie had vanished from her perch. Ruby Fairy had taken over (again), who also possessed a wee version of herself. It was in this guise she first approached Yoko Ona a little later on down at the beach.

—–

“‘Tis (a) nice day,” smaller Ruby Fairy said to her while she stared out at the *actual* Witch’s Rock over the gathering waves, pondering if this is a place where she could hide out until the storm was over. Because Mid-Hazel would be furious for a loooong time.

Yoko Ona turned and faced Ruby square on, knowing deep down this had to be another witch from another coven. But which? She knew the answer to that could ultimately make or break her escape. She decided she better get it over with — better now than later.

“Yes. A nice day indeed. It would be even nicer with a Mountainy Dew in hand,” she returned to the sprite. “Peppi is *right* out.” She gauged the features which didn’t display immediate allegiance with the Diamond. Here was a fairy that could be an Ordinary Glass Coke gal instead. She lucked out!

(to be continued?)

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