Category Archives: Regaltown^

July 23, 2019 · 9:52 am

flowery 02

“Soo,” Chesteria A. Arthur began again, trying to get to the bottom of things. “You and Marcus have been a secret gay couple all along.”

“That’s right, Chesteria.” Chicken Itza turns to Marcus. “Pucker up again, lover boy. We’ll prove it.”

Chesteria waves it off. “No, I think I’ve seen enough of *that* type of proof. I need more.”

“I mean, I have my art…” Marcus states rather weakly, waving his arm around the house. “All these… men. Why do you–” but he stops himself here, understanding he was giving himself away more than defending himself.

“*Exactly* what someone *straight* would do to ingratiate themselves with the community,” reveals Chesteria A. Arthur. “*Our* community.”

“I mean,” Marcus begins again. “Really–” he sputters.

“Please don’t say that we’re the only lesbian couple in (Regaltown). Please don’t go down that path again. We have the approval of the council to be here.”

“But–,” Marcus speaks haltingly again. “*Your* lover — Gray Scale Kimball — *is* the council. Her and Pat.”

“And Pat doesn’t count,” Chicken Itza quickly points out. “Since he or she’s bisexual.”

“Hrmph. All this is sidestepping the actual topic. We’re *gay*, get it? *You’re* — you two guys — *aren’t*. Potentially — still haven’t quite figured it out.”

“The art,” Marcus almost whispers, waving his arm around again.

“The kissing,” Chicken Itza emphasizes, and then leans over and gives Marcus another peck on the lips, making Marcus feign another small smile. “So pleasant,” he says, licking his lips a little for emphasis while Chesteria stares at him. He then leans toward Chicken and pecks him on the lips as well, having some trouble maneuvering around the hood on his head.

“*Alright*,” Chesteria pronounces, tired of the accing. “You’re *gay*. Okay, I won’t tell Grey Scale about this. You know how she’s like.”

Marcus and Chicken couldn’t decide whether to jointly say “thank you,” or keep on defending their faux homosexuality by saying nothing. Glancing nervously at each other, they chose the latter. Keep playing it safe, they thought in harmony. This was all so new to them.

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July 23, 2019 · 8:56 am

flowery

“Soo. I’m trying to figure out if you’re gayy or not, Chicken Itza. I mean, *I’m* gay. Gray Scale Kimball is gay. Marcus is gay.”

“Marcus is not gay,” corrects Chicken Itza. “He just likes flowers. Primmy flowers.”

“I’ll take your word for that.”

“We can go ask him if you wish. Saw him out back of his gallery when we were jogging by.”

“Hmm,” responded Chesteria A. Arthur, mate of Grey Scale Kimball. “Sometimes I wonder why we jog together, Chicken Itza. Is it just that we’re next to each other alphabetically in a list of new novel 15 characters?”

“Yes,” states Chicken Itza bluntly. “Else I’d still be laying in my own pool of blood back at Bridgeman’s. That and the suit.”

“Ah yes. The *gay* suit,” Chesteria purred. “But sometimes I think you are a straight in gay garb.”

“Humph.” He assumes a less manly pose on the bench with this.

“I’ve run behind you now too many times. Your hips don’t sway the right way–”

“Oh I’m gay,” breaks in Chicken Itza, fearing exposure of his true self could mean expulsion from the community. He needs his scripts! Love scripts.

“Prove it. I mean, you have the suit, yeah. But anyone could climb into that cock-amanie outfit, hah, and declare themselves gay.”

Chicken Itza’s thoughts turned toward Marcus again. “Okay, I have a way. Follow me.”

—–

“Hmm, dee dumm. Dumm dee… dee…” Oh hi guys. Jogging around the community again?”

“Pucker up Marcus,” warns Chicken Itza just in time.

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July 22, 2019 · 6:33 am

heat

“Tell me what is troubling you my dear. I hope you like it here in Chicken Itza.”

This is *not* Chicken Itza, Chesteria Arthur thinks. And I’m not doing this tonight.

—–

“….Chicken Itza?”

“Annie!”

—–

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July 21, 2019 · 10:32 am

otherworldly

“My father is right over there,” Baker Bloch spoke to spiritually oriented Hucka Doobie. “Just beyond the unwaving grass.”

“Bamboo,” Hucka Doobie elaborated. “A type of grass, yes.”

“But I can’t interact with him,” Baker Bloch continued. “Oh the things I could tell him.”

Hucka Doobie remained silent, then: “Why can’t you interact with him? Since he’s just right over there especially.”

“I thought…”

“That you would change the future?”

“Well… yeah.”

“The future cannot be changed, because there is no future except a web of possibilities. We could change *one* probability, yes, but it was already there in the first place. We cannot change anything.”

Baker Bloch nodded for Hucka Doobie without really understanding what he said. “So… I can go see my father? My *young* father?” He points toward the bamboo on the other side of the frog pond. They can see the trailer faintly through it from where they sit.

“Sure, sure,” Hucka Doobie agreed. “But would this be pre-Baker Bloch Space Ghost or post-Baker Bloch?”

“Not sure.”

“What I mean is… what I’m asking is…”

“Whether I am yet born, yet *conceived*,” Baker Bloch realized

“Yes.”

“Well…” He blew out air here. “One thing I know is that I better not be my own grandpa or something.”

“How would that work?” Hucka Doobie shot back.

Baker Bloch thinks of his mother here, who we’ve only seen as Old Grey in the Collagesity novels. “I suppose it can’t.” Baker Bloch gets up off the bench they’re awkwardly perched upon. “Come on, Hucka D. Let’s go see Pops.”

“Hold on there young fellas.” It was Bullfrog, who rented the cottage behind them. “I can’t help but see you were sitting on that bench but you weren’t *sitting* on that here bench. You must be straight…. unable to run scripts… not part of the group.”

Standing Baker Bloch looks over at standing Hucka Doobie, then admits this is true. “We are here as observers,” he elaborates. “From the future.”

“Ohh.” Bullfrog looks anxiously back at the cottage. A diminutive figure emerges from around it: Bullfrog’s partner Aqua Dude.

He almost immediately invokes one of his own special powers. “The green turns to red and the red turns to green,” he recites down to Baker Bloch and Hucka Doobie, still clustered around that bench. Things completely change.

They look around. “Is this *real*?” Baker Bloch speaks to his bee friend.

“I’ve heard of such,” exclaims Hucka Doobie, also looking at the pond, the ground, the sky. “In theory.”

“This way,” Aqua Dude pipes up, “I can turn into Super Guy as well as being Aqua Dude. Ruler of the sea *and* the sky. See? Hehe.”

“He thinks his colors now are the same as his arch nemesis Super Guy,” explains Bullfrog above him. “But it’s not really an exact match. Just humor him. He does it to everyone he first meets. He’ll get use to you.”

“I rule the *skies* as well as the *sea*,” he repeats, glaring toward them.

“Sure you do, Aqua Dude,” tempers Bullfrog. “Sure you do.”

Satisfied that the strangers understand perhaps his most unique ability, Aqua Dude shuts it off and the pond and its environs return to normal colors. “The red turns to green and the green turns to red,” he reverses.

“Now, about that trailer…”

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July 19, 2019 · 9:13 am

in the cave

“I was just there watching the red and green grasses wave back and forth with the fairy, thinking: love is the answer, but what is this question we all must ask?”

“Kind of going beyond John Lennon in that way.” Kevin C. (or was it E.?) expressed puzzlement. “Like in the ‘Mind Games’ song, the flip side of the better known ‘Meat City’, admittedly, but still fairly well known. Here, let me hum a few bars.” He proceeds to do so, then mouths the appropriate lyrics. “‘Love – is – the answer. And you know that – for sure.’ See, he never sings about the question.”

“So — are you going to let me stay? Knowing what you know?”

“That you’re not gay, yes. Alright. But we’ll have to put you in the Northeast Quadrant, behind the art gallery. The old Coutts residence. Old codger is more like it. Straight as a porcupine quill he was. I should know.”

But when Kevin A. (A. — that was it) arrived at his new home in the Northeast Quadrant of Regaltown, someone was already there. Not old but young. Space Ghost, with all his powers returned. Ability to turn invisible. Er, ability to do this and that and the other stuff. Not pointing out imaginary green squirrels with his cane any longer. Kevin A. would have a male roommate after all. And wife Grammy was no longer around, since this was the past. Her vortex powers made sure of that.

Young Space Ghost takes one look at Kevin A., then says, “No gays in this quadrant. Who sent you? Arnold? Tell Arnold he can go to hell. Or back to Sweetgrass, where he came from. Americans.” Young Space Ghost spat on the ground with this.

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July 17, 2019 · 5:39 am

limited

Before DJ-ing at Regaltown’s fabulous 50th Anniversary Man on the Moon shindig, Grey Scale Kimball just had to buy that yellow purse she had her eyes on at Maraschino. But it meant she could only spin Dark Side of the Moon that night and not the light one.

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June 14, 2019 · 3:23 pm

X marks

PIPERSVILLE (CHIP SHOT) and SINK X

MIDDLE GAME.

LONG DRIVE.

“It’s the only X the Linden roads make on Maebaleia,” I speak to my avatar who stands beside this very crossroads. Or at least a rendition thereof.

“Satori,” he calls up in a small voice.

“Right,” I boom down. “What I said. Anyway, it’s between the two X’s we’re calling Middle Game and Long Drive. These 2 smaller X’s…”

“Smaller,” echoes Baker Bloch down below.

“Yes,” I say in a bigger way. “They must be part of one larger X, then. Logical?” I query.

There was a pause. “What about Sink X?” he says in such a small voice that I didn’t hear him at first. He was looking in the distance.

“What’s that?” I boom down.

“Sink X!” he pipes up. “Pipersville! Chip Shot!!”

—–

“I was sitting right over there on that bench, Baker Bloch — my Gaseous Bench — when the (Tarsus) attack began. Poor Tealy.”

“But… he’s still alive,” a puzzled Baker responds, seeing the colorful raccoon just this morning.

“Oh yes. I rebuilt him. Just a mechanoid, see. Not a real raccoon. Hence the color, silly.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s still alive. But I was thinking…”

“Karoz?” Tillie guessed. Both were contemplating the common teal color now. Or blue-green. “That would make me…”

“The Other Baker, yes. The female.”

“But I’m…”

“I know who you are.” Pause. “Now.”

“Well.” She threw up her hands. “It’s a mystery, then. Another one.”

Baker emits air (as well?). “We better speak about Chip Shot; and Middle Game; Long Drive,” he finished, further away from the beginning of this sentence than ever.

“Pretty easy. Chip shot, even. Sink X is a green that’s also a sand dune or bunker. Paradox. Two opposite things in one. Two *bordering* things, but getting on the green, especially with a long drive, is good, while hitting a sand bunker…”

“Bad,” completes Baker Bloch. “Two neighboring opposites combining into one.”

“And Chip Shot just a chip away from either. Perched on the lip.”

“Chip Shot… Pipersville’s original name?”

“A variant, historical name,” Tillie offers, coming into synch with her fellow core avatar. Another 2n1.

—–

“What next? Will you leave Rubisea now, Tillie? You and Tealy? Perhaps go on a journey to find seed in Grasslands which is Toppsity? Passing Golden Sink on the way? Where it all ends according to both me (as Pitch) and, let’s see, I think it was Dave. Firesign’s Dave.”

“David Ossman,” Tillie recites. “Archer.”

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June 9, 2019 · 10:25 am

Long Drive 01

“You know it all ends here, Mary.”

“I know. Better bust out Buster from that school-prison, then. And some other stuff.”

“Catapult?”

“You bet.”

—–

“Alright, Mary. The plan is, once I get this thing turned around, to shoot you over the top of that wall and get you inside…”

“Right.”

“Where you’ll find a door somewhere and then let me in.”

“Okay.”

“Ready? Oops. Almost forgot. Have to turn it around first. Ooh. Young man, young man,” Pitch beckons to a boy approaching from behind.

“What’s all this?” he asks in a geeky, squeaky voice. “What are you, heh, doing?”

“Never mind that, fair youth of toothy persuasion. Just help me get this thing aimed the right way if you don’t mind.”

“Are you looking for the front door? ‘Cause I can show you that. You don’t have to hurdle your girlfriend over the wall and risk losing her forever.

“I’m sturdy,” Mary insisted from above them. “I won’t break.”

“You probably just missed it. It’s pretty small, heh.”

“Maybe we better do it his way, dearest,” urges Pitch, not doubting Mary’s word but still not wanting to risk his own injury turning the heavy catapult around.

“Yeah, heh, right this way.” Preston Weston says.

“Okay. Come on Mary.”

“Ohhhhh.” She dearly wanted to experience the thrill of it all.

—-

“So here we are. And this is as far as I’m allowed to take you today, heh.”

(to be continued?)

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June 9, 2019 · 8:07 am

Beatlesque

Firesign Theatre material was conceived, written, and performed by its members Phil Austin, Peter Bergman, David Ossman, and Philip Proctor. The group’s name stems from astrology, because all four were born under the three “fire signs”: Aries (Austin), Leo (Proctor), and Sagittarius (Bergman and Ossman).

“Ahh, see, there’s the rub, because mother *did* want me to go to school.”

“Interesting.”

“You know, it all ends here Pete.”

“Stop calling me that Dave.”

—–

Big Wanda yells over the music. “Didn’t you get your symbol!? Don’t you want to know your sign!?”

“Nah!” shouts back Little Oakley Annie. “If it’s anything but Leo, I’d have to shoot the astrologer in the face! Good band, though!”

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