Category Archives: Estate

skipperless skipper

He stares out at Stewart’s boat in the bay while calling.

“Hello, Stewart?” Indistinguishable answer. “Oh, cool. Stewart’s big brother. I remember you.” Answer. “Oh… sorry to hear that.” Answer. “Oh that’s too bad, oh man. When’s the…” Tangential answer, still indistinguishable. “Well, my deepmost condolences, Newton.” Final reply. “Goodbye. Let me know if I can help in any way.” He hangs up with this. “Guess I won’t be using *Newton’s* sim skipper out there tomorrow after all. Maybe never. Mr. Babyface is going to be *so* disappointed. I’ll have to find another way off this isle of isolation. Poor Stewart! Disappeared inside a watery sinkhole.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0515, Gaston+

Steamboat

Mr. Babyface looked down at the large palm tree The Man About Time was currently referring to. “The Hole is gone,” he had just said about the mysterious object formerly underneath it. “When Mick jumped in, the effect was gone. The great 2-n-1 was over.”

“Takes 2 to know, yeah,” Mr. Babyface says in response now, thinking he needs to phone up Greg Ogden as soon as possible. Or, on the other hand, Gregg Oden, if he’s in that form presently. He’d been romancing a living, breathing Mandela Effect for months and didn’t know it, didn’t know the term for it. The Man About Time is attempting to clear this up.

“Gaston has a lot to do with this,” then offered MAT in his mild voice while scratching the back of his neck on the couch. “Changes people, and sometimes not for the good.” He scratches more. “Sometimes… for the bad.”

“And that’s where Greg said he was going in that letter he wrote me,” completes Mr. Babyface while turning, more eager than ever to pick up the phone.

But which way to go, he thinks, receiver in hand just later. Does he go to Gaston or does Greg come here?

“I’ll come to you,” responds Greg Ogden at his red Gaston house. “They frown on mutanty looking people around here,” he said, referring to Mr. Babyface’s baby faced head.

“Well I *never*.” But he was coming back and that was the most important thing. He was pulling him out of *there*.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0514, Collagesity Fordham-, Gaston+, Lower Austra, Nautilus

return of the Dawg Pound?

“… nice view of Carrcassonnee’s new, blooming tree over at the Temple of TILE. I think this could be our new spot, Other Baker.” He woofed down another delicious piece of Raggedy Ann’s pizza with this. “This — um so good — this new pizza item is the *best*, Baker Blinker.” He takes yet another bite, and talks, still with his mouth pretty full. “Ginger, yum (*chomp*). Just a hint of ginger.”

“How about that table over there, though,” suggests similarly woofing Baker Blinker, not as convinced this was their new spot at Perch. “Better view.” She was at least polite enough to stop eating when she talked.

Baker Bloch glanced over after swallowing. “Too near the door to the place. You know I don’t like sitting in front of the door. *Everyone* can look out on us.” He returns to the pizza and the devouring of it. “Besides (*cut*), Mr. Babyface is over there right now (*bite*).”

“Mr. Babyface has *been* over there. What’s he doing with all those newspapers?”

Baker Blinker’s been glancing over here, thinks Mr. Babyface, paused in his reading. She may report me to the maitre de, gasp, who may tell the owner. Maybe even Perch himself, who sees *everything* anyway.

Oh wait, he suddenly realized, playfully fooling himself. Perch is back in (Carrcassonnee’s) head — not mounted up there above the door any more. Grease stain left behind covered up by a big clock. Oh well. Guess there’s no one around to monitor my voluminous newspaper reading today. Maybe I’ll order another cup of coffee around, say, 3:30-ish.

At 25 after 3, Mr. Babyface spots the odd conjunction that would influence the rest of his life. An ad for a football camp featuring Leroy Kelly, and just below, an ad originating from Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

Steamboat Kelly, he ruminates after reading one then the other. The famous running back who replaced (best running back ever) Jim Brown but also made a (smaller) name for himself. Sat on the bench and bided his time — good for him. Patience pays off.

Trouble was, there was never a *Steamboat* Kelly. Only Leroy — sans nickname. Mr. Babyface had entered an alternate universe where up could be down and Cleveland Browns players, former and present, could be manipulated by a higher power.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0513, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, MARS, Nautilus

Necksity

“It was like it was staring at him, right in front of his face. (Blue) Improvio and (red) Chroma: the same, or two things spinning around the same, pretty axis. And who was he? Formerly Core-Alena the walking talking centre tree, yes. But now: Sidechick Corea. Footsteps outside — uh oh. Pretty Man approacheth. But is she still a man? So close to the transition now. The door opens. He stands.

(Face) scars are still in place but that’s about it for the man bits.

“Jump on my shoulders for the last time, Sidechick. I want to know the final truth. I’m ready to switch over to Jasper.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0512, Gaston+

Big Shift

Soon he had reached the end of his Abbey Road on the west edge of Vail.

One step further…

… and he was in a different place altogether now. Vila. Uncle Zach was (again: miraculously!) waiting for him in his Calypso Tuk Tuk Taxi.

“Where to, Butt?” He meant bud. Or did he?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0510, Gaston+, Purden/Snowlands

Gaston = NYC (among other things)

The Lord balancing Sugar Houses.

We know this is “Abbey Road”.

And that something is definitely going on at the Rhino along it (portal).

We know a lot about this place by now. This Gaston. But we haven’t quite grasped the story within the story. Is there one? That’s what I’m aiming to find out.


“We’ll have to kill him.”

Zach’s still waiting for Georgie Porgie and Heidi Widey to emerge from the Joint Joint. He fears the worse. He’s been there for 2 days now. But he’ll wait till The End.

What really is at the end of Abbey Road?

Where have all the Berries gone? Where’s Sugar Dumpling? Where’s… Jacob I.?

We know it is a place to hide (Hidden Vilage). Hitgal represents someone.


“But… what’s you think?”

Why the doubling with the Vilania safe hub? Why can’t Hank Graphite get back there instead of here?


“It wasn’t suppose to be this way.”

Why flies in Central Park of all places?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0507, Gaston+

back room

“You shouldn’t be smoking that in here Heidi. We’re just kids here, you know. What if we get *caught*?”

“Speak for yourself, George,” she replied about the kid part.

The boy looks around. “So — we’ve turned down the lights. You’ve smoked half your joint; I’ve drank half my coke. Where is she?”

“Just give her some time.” Heidi Hunt Ives takes another toke. Again: she’s not really a kid.

“12:36 now,” he says after checking his Mick Mouse watch. “Maybe we should go. I need to get back to the park.”

“Well there you go,” she offered about the time. “Give it another minute.”

—–

12:37:

“Oh my God,” she whispers over. “There she is.”

“Where? Where?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0506, Gaston+

Gastonites

“Well here we are lady,” spoke Uncle Zach, currently (and miraculously!) posing as a taxi driver. “The Joint Joint. It’s haunted you know. That back room. Back in the back. There’s people back there that shouldn’t be there.”

“I don’t care,” Heidi replied innocently with naive voice.

“Two eggs, they say,” he started again, hands extended and wavering to accent the spookiness. “Floating in mid air without any wires.”

“I’m not scared of eggs.” So child-like. Very surprising (again).

“You haven’t seen *these* eggs. Different colors they are. One glowing red, the other: green. Two colors that don’t go together well —  at all.  And: are you going to get out or not?” His haunted story had run its course. For now.

“Goodbye Mr. Taxi Man. ”

A boy appeared in the chair beside the door. Heidi changed as well.

“Shall we enter, Georgie Porgie?”

“After you, um, Heidi Widie.”

He always had trouble keeping up.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0505, Gaston+

i.c. planets

The Wild Wild West they called it in the Far East, but most of the wilds was hidden. You’d need a powerful telescope and also know exactly the right location to spot. And the Red Umbrella predicted it all. Again.

Far East was different, they proudly declared. No wilds, no crime much atall in comparison. But the murder of Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, child of grieving Rabbit 01 and Rabbit 02 over in Braynard’s Place, changed all that. Red, red rats were found to infest their incomplete sewers and subways (etc.) as well. Red from feasting on blood this time, red from the tainted water left behind.

Golden Jim from Gaston was here to investigate and, hopefully, put a stop sign to all that new redness over in the east. He knew exactly which one to choose.

—–

“Where’s your chief?” asked Ms. Tanner to the staff psychiatrist the next day at the police station.

“Oh, he *claims* he’s on vacation over at NWES on the mainland, but my guess is he’s snooping around for a new case.

“NWES?” Nipsie Tanner declared in surprise. “That’s where *I’m* from.”

“Well I’ll be,” offered back Jack “Jiff” Danielsonlanderscroft, knowing more than he’s letting on.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0410, collages 2d, Gaston+, Jeogeot, NWES Island, Red Umbrella

hiding

“So where would you like to go Ms. Tanner?”

Nipsie Tanner looked around the room. “Oh (*sigh*), I don’t know. Just away from — here.” She points. “How about that middle one over there.”

“Middle one it is.” George V. Norris gives her a ticket to ride.

—–

“Welcome, dad-i-o.”

—–

Aah. This is the *life*, she thinks later by the “Black Side” pool. Tomorrow I will go check out the local police station; see how it measures up.

She couldn’t help mixing business with pleasure.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0409, Gaston+, Jeogeot, NWES Island