Category Archives: Nawt Vaya+

June 16, 2025 · 2:07 pm

00470207 (center and circumference)

She liked to sit at this table in the apartment because it gave a view of the statues she so adored, especially Colossus, he he he. She typically and temporarily derendered a certain piece of metallic clothing to great effect. Oh, here comes Eddy. Better stop staring, ha.

—–

“I’m glad you started drinking without me,” said Eddy after sitting down and manifesting a glass of wine of his own. “Sorry about being late. But I was playing around with the marketplace and found some free versions of those statues outside I thought you’d like, including Colossus and Titan.”

Oh *goody*, said Shelley to herself, getting excited at the prospect of hovering above, walking below, and just looking from all angles at the giant effigies — in her own private space of course. Don’t want to start more gossip and rumors flying; Vortexville has enough of those already, she figured. Like those swirling around Old Ben and his Giant Womb Woman situated right smack in the middle of town for all to see, hmph. A little subtlety, Ben!

“But,” continued Eddy. “Unfortunately I also found out they all derezz after 8 minutes. Would have to pay a boatload of money for the originals. So all — sorry again — I got you was this camera for a L$1 at the same store. It won’t derezz, though. And you can take *pictures* of your beloved statues. You know I don’t like looking at that God awful black hole sun out there. We can sit and eat and relax at other tables around our pretty large apartment, ones that don’t face the west. Whaddaya think, huh? Camera.” He indicated the instrument of photography he’d placed in the middle of their table. Shelley looked at it… and then outside again.

“Okay,” she tries to brighten herself, a light bulb going off above her head, even. “Sounds good to me!”

As soon as they finished their last meal at that westward facing table for a while, she herself had logged onto the marketplace and bought 20 demos of each of the two available statues Eddy found. Good for 8×20 minutes or over two and a half hours apiece. Then she would buy 20 more pairs tomorrow if needed, ha. Can’t beat free! Even if there are other prices to pay, like time limits. The camera would remain unused for days, maybe years.

She’d rezz them out back behind the abandoned skyscraper so Eddy or anyone else wouldn’t see. Hers and hers alone. Until Ben walked up next Tuesday’s Wednesday. “Aa HA!” he said, staring up and recognizing a kindred spirit.

(to be continued)

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June 10, 2025 · 7:24 am

00470204

He was giving the finishing touches on his patented veggie stew hot dogs when he looked forward through the wisps of steam rising from Forman George’s old grill and had a vision, as if on an invisible screen before him.

Another place with flowers besides these exotic ones from the Amazon (store) all around, making it smell like a jungle out here on the patio where he was preparing food for Shelley Marsha and his cousin also originally named Edward. “2 fer 1,” he whispered to himself and himself only, watching the vast field of them wave strong and free in the brisk wind as their imaginary scent mixed in with the others from reality. And then he heard someone running behind him, just like at the beginning of it all, his genesis. Now it can be revealed (sorry).

Common denominator: triangles. Slice to be more specific.

And then he simply forgot the whole hallucination ever happened, attention returned to those finishing touches.

“Stew dogs’ done!” he said proudly a 1/2 minute later, and then prepared the plates.

(to be continued)

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June 2, 2025 · 7:48 am

00470111

“Jeez, Barry, I thought you were *dead*.”

“*I* thought I was dead. Inside the dream. Bass had a rock the size of a small schoolboy’s head. Hit me with it right in the kisser!”

“*3… hours, Barry. *Three* *hours*.” She sits back in the chair a bit. “Anyway, *why* was she trying to kill you? This Bass woman.”

“Man. Bass man. Ernest T.. Haven’t you ever seen ‘The Andy Griffith Show?'”

“Of course I have, Barry. I meant *man*.” Why did she say woman? she thinks to herself. But this is not about her. This is about *him*. She turns her attention back to the freakishly long dream which he for some God awful reason couldn’t wake up from. It was like some kind of temporary *coma*.

“I think,” he answers Wendy’s question, “he was jealous of me.” The laugh track ended there, he knew. Time for something serious; time for *death*. In the show!

“Why? Why Barry? Why was he jealous?”

A common love, he understood. Helen. Helen Pettry Crump, also known by the schoolboys and even some of the opposite shore experimenting schoolgirls as Helen Pretty Rump. And now Ernest T. was a 33 year old schoolboy himself. Always looking for a potential new bride. Watching her from the back with the others, he knew he’d found one!

“Ernest T.!” she called to him one day, whirling around from the blackboard, surprising him. “Solve the following equation.”

Suddenly there was no schoolroom, no teacher. Just a rock. He thought long and hard about what’s on it but couldn’t reduce it to nothing. This was *something*. His blood began to boil inside him again. I’m going to *take* this rock… or a smaller version thereof… Aaaaaaand.

“And that’s all I remember, Wendy. Swear to God.”

(to be continued)

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June 2, 2025 · 6:55 am

00470110 (Bass cont. (lost laugh track))

“Saaayyy. You’re sweet on her too, Sheriff. Aren’t you?”

The moment rock throwing and all around Mayberry troublemaker Ernest T. realized Andy and he like the same woman. Teacher of Opie, Andy’s son, but also, now, teacher of himself (!). One of the two of ’em would have to go, he decided then and there. And he’s hoping it wouldn’t be him of course. So that meant, let me see (he thought, narrowing the options), it had to be *Andy*.

—–

“Barry? Barry?!”

“BARRY!!!”

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May 26, 2025 · 2:18 pm

00470104

“Ooh, the city lights of Juho over there are *soo* pretty (!). Good to be home.”

Eddy pivots in his seat at the closed Asian Fusion Restaurant to take a gander. “Those blank white trees over there: not so much. Blight,” he spits out. “Our Second Lyfe trying to be more than it can or should. Leave the old but still quite functional game alone, you *Limeys* (!).”

“Oh Eddy,” says now red haired Shelley, back from her sabbatical to who knows where. Ready to surprise the parents. Who forgot she even existed. “Soooooo negative.”

“I’m *not* negative. Just a realist. Like you returning here. Your mother put you in *prison* the last time because of her jealousy. She says you’re a child but she knows better.”

Shelley wasn’t so sure. Besides, in her eyes she still had her freedom while trapped away inside Rockaway Beach Penitentiary. It’s all about perspective. She even wrote a song about the paradox (see: post 01).

“Listen, it’s 4 in the morning,” she decided to say. “We’ve been up all night. We’re tired, we’re wore out from the journey.”

“From who knows where,” Eddy, her Edward tacked on.

“Oh you know where, you new husband you — Silly.”

And suddenly he did. New Island of course. Escaped from mainland prison via that route, that direction. The chasers couldn’t get to her that way. The bridge between the two became broke and wouldn’t open back up.

Refuge. But with a witch in control now of everything, ugh. She’d still have to pay a price.

(to be continued)

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May 25, 2025 · 4:31 pm

00470102 (new lighting)

“Aren’t you going to finish your triangles dearest?”

“In a minute,” answered Sarah Tucker to on again off again lover Al, watching the newest storm roll in from the many windowed establishment, orange in color and violet violent in nature. She wondered if the posing giants outside would have to save their ass. Again.

Nawt Vaya’s Vortexville. A weird place to live. We’ll come back soon for more out of this world fun.

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May 18, 2025 · 5:51 am

00460609

We use ART to discover who the true stabber is.

—–

“Oh Gregg Oden my opposite evil evil green twin! What have you done what have you DONE?!

“Hello 119? I mean 911! I’d like to report an accident. A horrible horrible accident!”

“Calm down, sir,” said Gertrude on the other side. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Stabbing. STAB!” Greg Ogden’s imaginary Juho art studio conveniently located on Makers Lane with door always slightly ajar come to life, as it were. As it *is*. He looks down at the body, quickly bleeding out. Not much time!

“Okay, I’ve tracked your location. We’ll send Charlie and Peet right over. Don’t leave the scene, sir!”

Then he was back at the beginning, painting Black Lake that wasn’t actually black except in soul. Should’ve never switched over to oils.

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May 15, 2025 · 7:19 am

00460606

Tessa (after getting a busy signal for the fifth time at the station and then giving up): “Oh DARN. And I so so wanted to catch up with my old old friend Carolin from the Caves. I have news about them!”

MEANWHILE… Seventy-six radio station manager Marty had been stabbed in the head, heart and hands, leading to a severe decrease in health. Only the hustle of local paramedics Charlie and Peet saved his sorry ass.

https://www.morningagclips.com/head-heart-hands-and-health-a-short-history-of-4-h/

“Can… of worms,” he said up to them weakly as they carted him off in a gurney to the Chilbo General Hospital where he stayed a week I believe before getting strong enough to leave. But employee Carolin would be gone by then, unable to be canned by him for her troublemaking down at the station because she had, in essence, canned herself. Back to the caves with Tessa, who’d caught up with her by other means, in-person visit I’m guessing.

The stabbings? Cat-people, cat *aliens*. Who were looking to get back to their cubic, red home planet at any cost. Or so THE OTHERS would have you believe. Others led by the Horns (= Big Bosses).

(to be continued)

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May 11, 2025 · 1:37 pm

00460602

She was already on her 3rd coffee and 4th Blue Moon single of the day. From her solo period of course. She doesn’t like the Cracks, her old group, nearly as much, prefix them with US, UK or any other country — doesn’t matter. But her solo period, especially after the suicide/murder attempt (another reader’s choice): primo. Pure punk while also somehow remaining pure pop, unholy yet uncannily successful marriage of the two. She takes another sip while she listens to another tasty lick from the guitar of none other than Cary E., soon to be known as Car E. and then just CARE w/ all caps, logical terminus reached on the name transmutation process. Formerly of Sunamai of course, helping out Blue Moon on this particular track called “No More Big Leagues,” a minor hit that kicks off her first solo album “Louisville Cardinals” — playing on the fact that the state of Kentucky contains no actual big league baseball team unlike neighboring Ohio with its Cincinnati Reds and Cleveland Indians and likewise neighbor Missouri with its own double team pairing of St. Louis Cardinals and Kansas City Royals. But believe me, don’t let the name fool you, she imagines saying to her brother Ted, more fond of the Cracks (a Crackhead of course): the album is definitely big leagues, and she then imagines herself laughing at his irritation to this statement of fact. “Johnny Rose Bench” is also a pretty well known love ballad from side two. And of course there’s “Elvis Esley.” Or Isley — no one really knows which except Blue Moon herself and she’s not saying.

The old timey dial telephone rings beside her. Probably station manager Marty, she reasons, calling to complain that I’m playing too much Kentucky and to cool it with the Blue Moon. She decides then and there to play the entirety of the the “Louisville Cardinals” album, just not lift the needle off the spinning vinyl record after the first track is done. And maybe play all the rest of her solo work — in order — after that. Take the phone off the hook and just *do* it. She calculates how quickly Marty could get here from Chilbo for the canning.

Can of Worms, yes, she thinks while track 1 ends and track 2 (“St. Louie Blues”) begins. Just like in New York.

(to be continued)

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May 11, 2025 · 7:42 am

00460601

“Morro Bay??” Dreaming Frank Lynn was expecting a sign for Paleto Bay but got a surprise, Real Life location intruding in on Virtual here. He suddenly has another important piece of the puzzle. Now to find the Rock.

“There!” he said, seeing it coming into view in the distance after passing a large beach dune. Well… sort of, he thought. Not quite Morro Rock but pretty obviously the duplicate down here. And out there in the bay beyond it: the 4 islands with the, um, bodies. 2 apiece, he knew. A central mystery. 4 islands, 8 bodies. Infinity.

Carolin manifests back at the center.


888 Infinity Lane

(to be continued)

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