Category Archives: Paper Soap

August 2, 2021 · 10:36 am

Yelloo!

After work, Wheeler returned to the theatre to watch more of Kane, studying each clap closely. Stu Umbriel mosied in, and seeing Wheeler down front suddenly had a hankering for a frozen one. Kolya (aka Ben aka Gus) came in immediately afterward — they either walked or drove over together — and then the last of their party sauntered inside as well, a person they derogatorily called Chief, because of his Indian heritage. Thing is he sat down on *top* of Kolya and kind of merged with him, Devil power showing its pitchforked ways again. Stu didn’t look over, just glad it wasn’t him this time. Chief had been taken over for sure. Maybe it’s the common redness, he speculated while woofing down another popped kernel. He watched Wheeler pop in hers. Maybe they could pop some common food together sometime, he thinks, seeing something different in the claps as well. Just keep studying, he said to himself. We’ll compare notes later. As soon as I can ditch the Devil Boys.

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August 2, 2021 · 9:47 am

00270610

(News)papers whirl together with leaves in a perpetual dust devil down at the tracks near the tunnel, reminding us of yellow journalism…

… in association with perpetually clapping *Kane* at the all day all night theatre just on the other side of the square with the “Pooping Pigeon” statue, as some locals have started calling it, blocked from our view by a mossy double oak with ivy in that picture up above. Or make that here:

And here’s Kane’s hands in the theatre, not to be confused with canes in hands, as in Dr. Mouse’s.

Checkered face Wheeler with him now, out on break from the banana, Mouse points again, making the connection.

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August 2, 2021 · 9:05 am

00270609

“You know, young laddie, I was going to be big. I don’t mean psychiatrist big. *Big* big, as in owning my own franchise of Pooping Pigeons. Well, someone decided to drop a big big *poop* on that idea. Came back on me, all my past, all my *medical* doctoring. I had to switch doctors, in that I became a psychiatrist instead of a physician. It was just that dramatic a change.” He pointed his cane in the direction of the tunnel and the train station now, past the statue with the pooping pigeon on its shoulder that triggered this whole soliloquy.

“Gee spot — right over there. Came in the tunnel. The Asylum sits on top of it.”

“Did you know,” young Peter File spoke absentmindedly, not really paying attention to the doctor’s ramblings, “I can balance this little paper hat on my nose?” He blew at it with his mouth; the object didn’t move. He sat up, looked at the doctor as if just waking up. “Paper,” he spoke more seriously, taking in the landscape. “We’re in *Paper*.”

“Been here for a while, yes. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Things *changed*.”

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July 31, 2021 · 10:00 am

assimilation (growing the behemoth)

Later:

“Tell us about the failure of the Pooping Pigeon (franchise).”

—–

She was in enemy territory and she knew it. If only the good doctor had been able to successfully remove the black. But it is what it is now.

Oh no! Not Pooh too!

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July 31, 2021 · 8:35 am

Mouse Tales

I: How did you come to Paper Soap, Dr. Mouse. Paul, isn’t it?

DM: Yes. I came the way most people come. Through the tunnel. You have to find the G Spot to get in of course.

I: I think I see where this is going.

DM: Yes. It’s all Fraudian (laughs).

I: How did you become head of The Asylum? I know this has something to do with Filetown — helping you out there.

DM: Well I certainly had a lot of *files* to bring through the tunnel with me after getting the job.


files

But seriously, it indeed started way back in Pennsylvania as a file clerk. Filetown is what I personally called the place I lived. That’s where I met Alpha. And Wendy.

I: Tell us about your relationship with Wendy. And Alpha if you wish.

DM: They are (actually) one and the same. Alpha hides what Wendy is. She’s right here — right over there (he points out the window with his cane toward the conveniently placed big banana sticking up from the pavement next to the all day all night theatre, currently playing a “Spaceballs” loop as I recall).

She can serve you up a (frozen) banana quick and easy. We’ll go after the interview.

I: Sure sure. But — helping you along again — Wendy was your wife.

DM: For a little bit. She was an attractor to being here. (note: DM seemed reluctant to talk much more about Wendy and his relationship with her)

I: Alpha is, then, transparency I’m gathering. Like if I wore a full body transparency and took off my clothes, then no one would be able to see me.

DM: Correct.

I: Okay, let’s move on to the (town) Anomaly and your role in causing it.

(to be continued)

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July 29, 2021 · 11:09 pm

leading

“You weren’t here the other night.”

“I wasn’t,” he admitted.

Both stared at the same spot for a while. Finally:

“Expecting someone?”

“Nope.” Clear and crisp from this stranger with new arrival to town Greg Ogden, free to roam now that Dr. Mouse had retired over in the Asylum where he was staying. But Dr. Mouse knew this of course; he was monitoring the situation closely. Currently he was seeing the spot too through his bug and was wondering the same thing that Greg Ogden was: what gives?

—–

It actually didn’t take long for Greg, and Dr. Mouse through him, to figure out Brut, as he called himself, was part of the plasmic Anomaly that threatened to take over the town. He was indicating himself.

—–

He recalls… a caterpillar.

*Now* what’s he staring at?”

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July 29, 2021 · 11:09 pm

checkerboard

The 2nd Gee Cat arrived too late to help the first with the toting and dragging but she had another mission to fulfill: find the sacred Hobo and return him to HOME. Tell him who he is. Eat his enemies if necessary. Drag him home. Not to the Asylum. For these 2 Gee Cats, very different in looks and nature, are actually opposites of each other, friend and foe or friend and fiend. Now to find out which is which.

—-

“*Not* a witch,” she decides to say to the Pizza King.

“But –.”

“No butts.”

—–

The plug was blinking bright green, dispensing good vibes to the body. She breaths a sigh of relief. A *friend* approaches (phew!).

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July 29, 2021 · 11:09 pm

friend… we hope

Gee Cat had doubts at first but then realized he was exactly where he was suppose to be. At this spot.

He waits patiently for someone to emerge from that tunnel, perhaps a friend but also perhaps a… fiend. Time will shortly tell.

A painter soon arrives. “I was just — Soap Lake,” he started with the broken sentences to add to the plot confusion. “Suds — Bubbles — took care…” He collapses at Gee Cat’s feet. Lordy, the big orange feline thought, have to drag him over to The Asylum for more rehabilitation. The body is back but the mind is still, let’s say, lacking. Dr. Mouse will fix him up, but he won’t be happy to see me.

Better get to work.

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July 29, 2021 · 4:12 am

switchers 02

Randy reads captioned synopses of potential shows to watch while eating his dinner (pizza). “Mystery Theatre, ‘House on the Hill’. Estranged sheriff’s niece summons nervous deputy back from the grave to help solve his own murder, no no no (*click*);  Self Help Channel: ‘Taming the Banana Within’, nope (*click*);  ‘Attack of the 50 Foot Man’: that might be good. Hmm, stars the same guy as the first. Oh well, here goes!” (captions off)

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July 27, 2021 · 7:33 am

switchers

He stayed close to the green phone on the bar the rest of the evening. Just in case. Smoking hot Trudy Trickster was studying the back of his head, wondering how the holes got in. Toby Tangerine was mixing up another drink, perhaps a martini, but if so, doing it wrongly. Trudy was definitely not having any of that. Although a brilliant neurosurgeon, currently out on bail from Prison Hospital, Tobias, as his friends call him, was a botch of a bartender and had trouble making cornbread milk for his oldest and least complaining customer, nonagenarian Margret Thatch, due to turn 100 in June. “I’ll get a proper bartender to make your birthday drink that day,” he promised, thinking back to mentor Ted Bruiser and his prediction that he’d save as many lives as a doctor as he took away with the drink. “Balance, my pupil,” he spoke into his eyes, deep as pools, taking it all in. “The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. *You* are The Lord.” He took his alternately skillful and skill-less hands from his side and held them up to his receptive face. “With these.”

Tobias Tangerine knew he wasn’t the Lord, but gosh darnit, if Margret didn’t enjoy that drink. At the same time, patient Gail Gordon died in Prison Hospital, operated on by the proper bartender who couldn’t make it.

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