May 14, 2023 · 10:11 am
Newt was now exploring another mystery in the same general Jeogeot/Sunklands area: a new-ish and obviously unfinished city called Moon that strongly reminded him of a former one, again from the same continent, named Gold. Hot from running about the pretty big place — almost a sim in size itself — he took off his Axis Duster Coat and aired out his armpits on a handy bench, eyeballing the scene from this fresh perspective.
Hmm, a car covered in pink diamonds. Seems to be a clue.
And another one just up there! he spots remotely, peering all around.
February 21, 2023 · 6:29 am
I arrived at the hotel and Duck was already there. I made peace with it. I tried to write but Duck kept quacking and shacking the floor. I took up read. The bag shushed loudly. It was tired of the quacking too. Nervous about meeting Mother.
The bed is a bathroom.
A call interrupted my dream. I awoke in the same position as sleep, one seamlessly changing over into the other. Which was real I couldn’t help but ask. “Hallo?” It was Hucka D., wondering how I was. She wanted to join me as soon as possible, her other engagement ended. She wanted to come back home, if in a different part of the state. She wanted to reinvestigate… herself.
I went back to sleep after playing “Gunn Mobile Home Trailer Park: Your Darkness” until 3 in the morning. Just to keep the boogieman away. I finally succumbed. Should have never played that game so long. I had another nightmare about The Void.
Only now I recall that Hucka D. will be arriving before tomorrow’s yesterday. And, yes, there she is. At the door. “Hallo, hallo?” she cried, knocking and knocking. I couldn’t get up out of the bed. I voided myself — disgusting. It was all over the place. I couldn’t let Hucka see me this way. “Hallo, hallo?” she cried, and then went away. I looked down. I was not disgusting. It was all a dream again. Caused by the Duck.
A call awoke me, real this time. It was Hucka D. She had been delayed by another project. She would instead be arriving Munday, a day which I knew didn’t exist — not one of the happy ones. The Duck quacked the bag shushed. Dreams…
August 31, 2022 · 3:04 pm
“You need perfection. You reach perfection. You pass perfection on the other side. Of course Wheeler Wilson was going to defeat (and assimilate) the new Tina Turner.”
“Tina Louise I believe,” said the fainter voice from the side, another Observer. “Like Mary Ann except beautifuller.”
“All-American still?” the first questioned the second. “Ρùℜ℘Îē?”
“That’s the key,” said the second.
“Heart of the matter,” reworded the first.
Resurrected Arthur Kill had finished retrieving the “Spider” from Tennessee but he was around for good thanks to the mop, with its silliness reinforcing its power. So they — Wheeler and he — decided to form a band, creating an alternate reality where “America the Beautiful” replaced the “Star Spangled Banner” as our country’s great national anthem. First gig: Towerboro or thereabouts, playing to an audience half blue half red. Now to split the two right down the middle, form a third. Wheeler kept wearing purple.
Wheeler kept wearing purple.
Wheeler kept wearing purple.
It worked. St. Francis Scott, the key, was hatched at the beginning of the 5th.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0501, Big Woods, Gold City, Hana Lei^^, Jeogeot, Wendy-Ontario
Tagged as Arthur Kill/Lemont Sanford^*++++%%, Baker Blinker^^++++@, DOVE, Greg Ogden/Gregg Oden^*++, Jim/John L. Brown^*+++%, Leila/Eyela/Rose Wells^^++++$, Newt/Windmill Man^*++++&, Pixley^^====, SHOWER, Turnkey^^=====, Wheeler Wilson^^++++@
August 23, 2022 · 4:52 pm
We had to go through Gold City and Barry and Stinkerfoot to get back to Zapppa and the Big Woods cemetery. He dug up the truth about Franklin. It wasn’t pretty.
There was no body; there was nobody.
“Black Jack,” psychic Donald said in a related scene from Towerboro.
The TV went to snow.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0406, Big Woods, Gold City, Jeogeot, Towerboro
Tagged as Barry DeBoy^*++++%%, CEMETERY++++, Franklin^^+, Gnome 04^*=====!, Kactus/Donald^*++++!, MONOLITH++++, NODAL++++, Zapppa^*++++~
August 23, 2022 · 6:02 am
“Guys, a little help here? Some kind of… force field… blocking my…..
Newspaper reading Mr. Yo White next door heard the screams of course but did nothing in response, not notify the authorities, not go over himself and see what went wrong, nada. He tried that before and just got in massive massive trouble, him and his whole family by association. Let the Cards lie where they fall, he said to his wife Tammy, turning a deaf ear and a blind eye as well, scars of the turf battles.
“Should have been Gibson,” opined Mrs. White bitingly.
Another proxy, Mr. White understood, looking over.
August 22, 2022 · 2:25 pm
She halted at the corner of 33rd and Masonic, a stop sign beside her, a stop sign beside it.
“Marsha *Pink* Krakow,” she managed to utter, recognizing her portrait. And then she wasn’t.
Armed with much more knowledge than he had before, Barry De Boy enters the mysterious, run down house.
Deal made. McLain, rival to Gibson, now owns the rights to the 112 (as well?). STOP
August 21, 2022 · 9:31 am
She stared and stared but she couldn’t wish a day gone to return. Munday it is, Munday it remains. Like hamster. Hers should be coming soon.
She overhears some of the conversation from a couple of tables over; her purpose for being here. Something about channeling. Something about triangles.
He walked into Slice, waiting for the mathematician. “Duck, please,” he tried at the counter. “No Duck: chicken,” said the Slice employee, a Mrs. Wiggins I believe. She didn’t even mention the hamster. She knew he wasn’t here for food and had to repel him that way. For emphasis she made the number 5 appear in one of her hands, a sign of non-acceptance or non-compliance. Stop, in other words. We don’t dispense that crap here.
“Barry?” Marsha “Pink” Krakow called over from Eyela’s former seat. She was finished with her hamster and sucking her teeth as inconspicuously as possible. The channeling/triangle couple had gone. She had absorbed again.
“… Mom? What… are you… doing here?”
Well you ordered a mathematician, she thought but didn’t say aloud. She should be at church and he should be at work. But they weren’t.
“I’m just going to check that calculation with my phone, Mom. Hold on…
“Damn.” She’s good! he realized. This could work.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0402, Gold City, Jeogeot
Tagged as Barry DeBoy^*++++%%, HILL HOUSE, Leila/Eyela/Rose Wells^^++++$, Marsha "Pink" Krakow^^+++, MELON/TRIANGLE+++, Mrs. Wiggins^^=====!, NODAL++++, Slicey^*, Wheeler Wilson^^++++@
August 21, 2022 · 8:07 am
“Man I can’t even look in your eyes today, you’re so small man. What’ll it be today Mickey Rooney? Duck?”
“You better return that cap to the St. Louie Cardinals, bro. Bro man. They’re need’n it for their shortstop, you know what I’m saying, yo?”
Gibson reaches into his pocket, pulls a bill out. The special kind belonging to Duck.
“Alright here you go Peewee,” he says while exchanging his own with Barry’s, knowing he always gets a head in a deal.
He moves on. He has no real fear of the larger man-boy similarly wearing a red cap, in his case dipped in the blood of a particularly hated and wounded-if-not-killed rival. He’s been here every day since Munday, that special new day of the week where you simultaneously go to work and go to church at once. Work-church. (S)pray. Barry was a kind of professional graffiti artist, the ones who have an unpronounceable name. Like Spock. He’d head to a particular wall-surface as soon as he made the purchase. 300, he thinks this morning. 300 Triangle. A number anyway. Maybe 112. He’s going to meet up with [delete name] afterwards, a mathematician, to decide. Slice.
“What’ll it be today, Mrs. Gold? Duck?”
“Chicken, I think.” STOP
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0401, Gold City, Jeogeot
Tagged as Barry DeBoy^*++++%%, Dragon Guy^*=====%!, Gibson^*=====%%!, Leila/Eyela/Rose Wells^^++++$, MELON/TRIANGLE+++, NODAL++++, Slicey^*, Spocari^*+, Wheeler Wilson^^++++@
August 20, 2022 · 10:20 am
She was at the house now, or the edge of the hill it stood proud and dominant upon.
She summoned Newt again to take a gander at what she’d found. This was obviously the source of their names. They *were* still married…
… to this town.
August 20, 2022 · 8:25 am
“You’ve found the shower again, congratulations. It’s in the Oracle you know. Chicago.”
“I think you mean Illinois,” I replied. “As in: someone was bad and deserved to be
“In the circle of the shower with the water on, all is good,” he replied confidently. The person sitting opposite of me. Triangle, I gather. Something about the stabbing of the duck obviously. I am now a resident. How did *that* happen?
“You are not dead,” I decided to say. “You were supposedly killed–”
“Look to the House on the Hill. All revolves around the House on the Hill. Just like before.” The apparition, so solid just a second ago, fades…
She finally got out of the shower and put on some clothes, bound and determined to find the graffiti that would set her free.
“Scuse me, boys.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0316, Gold City, Illinois, Jeogeot
Tagged as Gibson^*=====%%!, HILL HOUSE, Leila/Eyela/Rose Wells^^++++$, McLain^*=====%%!, Paul Duck^*+++, SHOWER