He continues to talk to his boss even though he isn’t with him any more.
“That boat over there in that bay, Jeffrey,” speaks Man About Time mildly. “Lower Austra. But just beyond, just beyond the bay: Wild West. That’s how they slipped away from Miss Ouri, Jeffrey. They outsmarted her, which is difficult to do. Someone must know the whole map to do this. It’s like they have the entire knowledge of Nautilus itself.”
“Think,” he could hear Jeffrey Phillips in his head now, which he often does.
“That’s right, Jeffrey. (The) Thinktank (sim) is just beyond the bay. The Wild West.”
“No. *Think*.” Jeffrey often emphasized words for Man About Time in his head because he misunderstands what he’s actually trying to convey. Because Jeffrey Phillips is still around, just not physically.
“Oh okay. Think, huh?”
“Think,” he finished.
“We went out on the same date. March 1, 2022. Yet he was a King and I was a Bishop at best, a Knight.”
“9 to 5, yes,” stated Wheeler Wilson to Baker Bloch at The Table, which had moved from the Blue Feather up to the Castle in De Skies, although not out of Collagesity itself. It was a conundrum because (the castle) sat in 2 completely different places on the continent at once: Lower Austra’s Collagesity and North’s Rooster’s Peninsula, with the ultimate link being glowing MOA down in the basement of each. *They* sat in these 2 positions. “I think you underestimate *your* position, though,” she continued. “Rook… you were a rook; a minor rook but a rook still. And people around you didn’t like it because you had no ambition to further your place in life. You were happy as is, just riding everything out until The End. You were stuck on a 5 which was much closer to 5 than 6 and you were satisfied. That was the basic issue. That caused the distancing.”
“I started out as a Pawn.”
“We all do,” explained Wheeler. “We all do.”
This boat remains landlocked.
I have them now.
The white block shoes were not ideal for walking on rocks but she had to find something on this beach, perhaps a discarded *Can*.
But how to kill that man who found it first and then dispose of the body? Issues. Always issues.
Pincushioned Nauty hid behind a nearby tuft of grass ready to run interference on this beachcombing chump if needed. He’d found MOA and that called for protection. Because *everyone* still in their right mind was looking for it, good or evil. Miss Ouri: probably evil since she’s emphasizing kill over kiss, death over love.
Whatever you seek with focused intent, there it is. Fear (tentacle emphasis) can bring you to this point as well.
The massive ego of the artist, the painter.
A whole village is taken over, becoming a canvas itself.
We must question the need, not to criticize but to understand.
And then return to Collagesity with new applications.
It’s time to tell the story of the Ant and the Elephant, both chics. CUE MUSIC
“First off, the elephant is a Trojan Horse, pardon the mixed metaphor of sorts.”
“Pardoned,” she said, because she had that power. She was queen over her own little land which wasn’t little atall to her. Like Rose Wells before her. Or after her. We continue…
“We know that because of the triangle that can be opened with stuff put inside. Like a *bomb*.”
Attagirl gasps, throwing her hands cartoonishly to her mouth. Because she was. Would her subjects do such a dastardly deed? And why in Dennis of all places? Or a TV shooting screen in Dennis?
He stared at red, the cover closed for now, the puzzle incomplete, the TV shooting screen: disabled. But luckily we can view remotely.
Grasshopper is dead.
Her bugs are responsible.
The proof is in the pudding… and the sandwiches, and the cake, and the sausages.
“If we keep focusing on Nautilus I think we’ll be okay, W. The link with Iowa.”
“Successful,” concludes the other. She seemed happy for a change. Or at least happier. Maybe the change of scenery did her good.
“Where to, Hucka? Post, Texas?”
“Next post for sure, ha. Have you peed yet?”
“Get on back in there, then.”
I was dancing with Hucka Doobie under the red car and next thing I know I wake up here. I’m beginning to think this world isn’t real, ha. Oh well. I’ll wait until I’m called again, pheh. Hopefully something out of the tall weeds.
It was merely a black and white picture of an unknown town with one somewhat colorful tree. But then it came to life and we were somewhere else. Hermanly again, I would assume.
Yes: Hermanly. Axis-Windmill, who may be the same as Helmet Newton, tries to ignore the increasingly busier burg, knowing he could get sucked into the picture. Like Baker Bloch before him. I mean: Jeffrey Phillips. Man About Time panicked at being thrust into a leadership role, even though he desired it forever. He had to find Baker Bloch (!), but when he did he’d forgotten how he got there and how to get back home. He pointed aimlessly, trying to get his bearings, just like we saw Alysha scramble with in Squared Root City just a minute ago. Alysha had decided to seal off the black and white city in its own little room, handy if needed, but not viewable at any one time. Out of sight out of mind for the most part. Until Helmet was mentioned. It was time for Axis-Windmill to acquire a proper non-hyphenated name. We’ve tried out Brend but then that went to another character — two characters actually, twins, one blue and black and the other red and white. Perhaps live in this same city, even. But Axis-Windmill is not Brend.
The sound of horseless carriages was deafening.
“She’s coming mum, sire!” called the gardener through the window, having nothing to do now except be a watchdog since there wasn’t a garden in this new location. Only flat plywood covered with a light snow.
“Do you think she found him?” asked Herbert Gold over to his wife, often his partner in crime. The latest theft: “The Blue Panther” by Horace Go Lightly of Spain’s France, prized for its use of cobalt in a thin veneer.
“Doubtful,” replied April Mae Flowers, out on bail from Collagesity jail and thus able to help her hubby with setting up the new house. She just had to have the “Panther”, bail or no bail. She talked her husband into it. As she always could. A team once more, just like Baker Bloch and Wheeler thanks to Nauty. Googling the safest and most efficient way to commit the crime, they bought a fishing pole and lifted it out of a transparent ceiling. Suc-cess!
“She’s pulling in now, sire, mum. She has something in her boat. She has *someone* in her… boat?”
The house never stood a chance.