Category Archives: Yaya Land

switch (again)

She stayed back, hesitant, while he moved forward, bold and brash and most likely naive. Poor Kolya, she thought. He can’t see the Overlord right in front of his face. He’d been warned (*sip*).

He was happy with his refreshed lemonade in the moment and had no other concerns. He doesn’t recall anything about the operation, she thinks. The holes still exist, although certainly not glorious any longer. He remains (dot dot dot) damaged goods.

There was only one thing for it. Another ring.

“Yelloo?”

“Herbert. It’s me.”

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go fourth

The Paper Kings dropped a Big Baby behind enemy lines and Claude Sit-on got sat-on. His son Claude Jr. carried on the family name, obviously. In retaliation he tried to wire the school so that it would blow up at 4:20 o’clock on [pick any day], but the kids foresaw this and blew up Claude Jr. instead. With their minds of course, no primitive physics needed. End of mechanoid aspect of our story, but later the Claudes, jr. and sr. now conjoined and united as one Claude in the minds of people who couldn’t remember the originals, became martyrs to the cause. It was here that Dr. Mouse entered our story again. “He died for *our* sins,” the fanatic was telling him back in their secret basement lair underneath the mayor’s house, now run by Jim Turbine the plastic surgeon. He surged, he won. Former mayor Longnose went back to Yayaland where he came from and started wearing a different face (at times) and leading the resistance to his own cause, which eventually recruited Guy Benjamin from Kowloon who eventually was able to steal the little yellow fellow, the Rael McCoy, from the other 3 while they had their backs turned. And this is where Dr. Mouse enters our story once more (!), for he was asked to perform a special operation to straighten out the racist lad. *Not* remove the color this time, which should remain glinty gold or close, they insist, just like Claude down in Sittontown (Meatside renamed). “What, then?” demanded Mouse, afraid he would see a rat in such a remote place and eager to get outta here. “Turn him into an *I*,” they said, and left it with him.

Dr. Mouse went back to his basement lair, told the others what had happened. A plane crashed outside in front of the cave that sheltered Sheldon the Initiated, Fern Stalin in disguise once again — I believe this was 42 by this point. On the other side of Paper, Swamp Lake had been drained by the resistance *here* in an attempt to stifle the efforts of the kids. The Asylum was filled with those who weren’t really loonies but were deemed so nevertheless. And Dr. Mouse was the stamp-maker. He wore many hats, but there was only 1 he wanted to live under. Hatti’s.

“What do you think? First attempt, mind you.”

Greg Ogden was stymied. “Is that a… banana?”

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Boos (narcissist 02 (abcdE))

She finds herself in a place doing realistic things, like blow drying her hair. But this is the morning she finds out she is actually a man. She stares into the mirror, looking at them after the removal of the false, the fake. How deflating!

The mayor’s nose keeps growing. Guy visits the doctor again, still working for the resistance. A new strategy is being hatched. Stealing the golden goose egg *has* produced results. He’s straightened out, elongated: the I of TILE revealed.

(to be continued)

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stepping out

John thought and thought and realized he wanted a Corona-V. “The new one,” he uttered in calm, stoic way, fit for a Man of Faith. Lamb was behind him now, supporting him, uplifting his career. He must get back to the parish. “I hate to do it but cancel that, Jack.” Man of Science was not amused. “John, *how* am I suppose to keep in bus–“, but he was cut short. John had disappeared (again). Jack re-turned. “I guess this one’s on you,” which user Peter Oesso didn’t argue with.

Come on, *dance* with me boys, the blue haired witch requested in her mind from the corner. Soon they were with her.

—–

“*Just* escaped, whew!”

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Rael-ing

He had followed John down to the Ravine (bar) but he was no saint. Lamb equals Ram; he sees himself in his own face, the user power.

I was a beautiful little girl before becoming such a handsome man, he thinks, still changing, still metamorphasizing.

“I’ll have what John’s having, please.”

Brother Jack the bartender turns. “Yeah, what’ll it be, *John*??”

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teacher (Zebra?)

Always look for the spaces between things. There lies art.

I am not a painter in this life. I am a collagist. Moving on…

“What does the future hold for me Esmerelda?”

“A cave? A *landscape*?”

Very faint from across the table again: “Enter the cave.”

He paid Ms. Wells handsomely and was on his way again.

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continuation of Boos (hints of the afterlife)

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the wedding of Winsor and Newton (damsel in this dress (embarrassed zebra))

“MO like on a ship?”

“Plane. But a plane is a ship in the sky.”

—–

We land in Misty MO again. Someone steps out of the plane. I believe it might be Jennifer M. Friend but I’m a little discombobulated tonight admittedly. I’m on a straight diagonal toward Endgame but can I reach it? I had a sister.

I had a sister.

—–

He looks away from where he’s been and thinks about the present.

—–

He wasn’t happy with his latest painting — “Parasols” — and he’d run out of green paint as well. Irritation tonight. A big black fly zoomed around the room, sometimes landing on his painting as if it were a window outta here. And perhaps it was.

“Jerry?” he called over. “Wanna go on a walk?” He was trying to be as cheerful as possible, given his mood.

Jerry, she thinks. Is that who he believes he’s sleeping with? The *ex*?

“Hardly.”

He recognized the voice. “Flo?”

“Jerry… went home.” Flo wondered if he still had a relationship with “Mr. Green,” given that he had none. She could tell if the painting was dry or not. She went into the other room of the Greek village apartment, hovered over him.

“H-how?”

“Tell me if that’s Wet Glaize. Or Dry Glaize.” She stood her ground, allow him to absorb the shock of her presence her on this romantic isle in disguise. Instead: trap.

“Wet Glaize *is* Dry Glaize,” he uttered automatically, bringing in more memories.

—–

She couldn’t tell. They next went outside to drink and catch up and look at the view. She turned away from the blue, not wanting to be reminded of crosses. Because she remembers. Greg Ogden was… well, she didn’t want to think of it right now. The bastard pirate!

“Do you even remember Ruby the green alien,” she complained after finishing one glass of wine and beginning another. I believe it was her 5th. “Where did you *leave* her?”

Green, he thinks. Where did I leave green?

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artists (something to chro about)

Right over there he was. My greatest creation: Harrison Ford Jett. I’ll never get close enough to call him Harry, but *Jerry* might. What’s her name again now? he thinks, folding his arms behind his head in a mimicking action. Sally?

Bluebird, he remembered later, descended from Blackbird. And he was a whole band on the run. Perfection.

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name games

He told him of the missing letter in the 4 letter name, and that would take his power away and the rebels could triumph and be top dogs (once more). “Before the coming of the 4 color-letters,” he explained. “We tortured him — extensively. We got a name: Rael. Rael McCoy. We could crush him like a (golden) goose egg, we realized, but, in the end, we just let him go, let him return to the other 3 of his ilk. We realized we could never win. Because we saw ourselves in *him*. *We* hurt when we tortured him.” Guy stopped, wondering if he should say the next thing. The Chinese cook kept stirring, always patient. He’d heard so many similar stories now down through the years. All involving letters, all ending in pain.

“Let me guess,” he said calmly, steam obscuring his head from Guy in the moment. “You realized… you were missing one as well.”

So he knew that also. Because Guy had started out as Guyd, the glossy yellow and green eyed cat who was actually quite inept as a guide, despite the name. Rebl knows.

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