making history

“Ooo. I *love* it,” actress Cathy A. coos. “So you’re Gabby Truth as well. Splendid!”

“Thanks. But let’s see what we see inside my crystal ball. Here. Let me turn it on first.”

“Ahhh. The *Moon*. Didn’t recognize it in the dark.”

“The New Moon is a false Moon,” Gabby Truth (Greg) states cryptically while beginning to stare deep into its glowing, cratered surface.

—–

“Interesting. We will remain Marcus Fox Smartville and Cathy A. instead of Greg and Dharma. Pencil Man wishes it that way and says we already have a Greg (with two “g”‘s) and also Gregg (with three “g”‘s) in the production. *His* production, because Phil has yielded to a stronger, *living* entity now.”

“Phil Austin?”

But Marcus Fox Smartville currently playing the role of Gabby Hayes Truth doesn’t answer Cathy A. and instead begins speaking of Gregson or whatever name the small Northern town will ultimately annex. “The 66(6) sign was just that — a sign. Owner: the Red Devil indeed. Here’s a quote I’m seeing about the him… or her: ‘Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth — and taste. I’ve been around for a long, long year….'”

“‘Long, long year?” Cathy A. quotes, snapping Gabby out of his trance. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Now let me *concentrate* again — don’t interrupt unless absolutely necessary.” Gabby (Marcus) stares into the lighted Moon again. After a moment: “Devil… yes, I’m seeing it again. An establishment was there (on that parcel). Southern, not Northern, although within the North.” He pulls back, still staring into space. “Red Devil was a Northerner.”

“We *all* know that,” replies Cathy A., new memories suddenly snapping into place via The Magic. “It was a hidden fact, but now the townspeople want to embrace this noble past. It’s in all the local papers, duh.”

“It is?” Marcus behind Gabby then realized this was truth. New memories had snapped in for him as well. “Ahh, yes. His *establishment* there. Southern — but a disguise.” He had no need for the Moon now. Scrying information had become real information for all to see and remember.

(to be continued?)

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numbers and letters

“Congratulations on being the 666th character of the Collagesity novels, Cathy A.(!). Sorry about the Satan part on the icing. Had to use what was at hand, see.”

“Thank you. I wanted to say, ‘do you like my b.’s,’ but I don’t have any to show.”

“We’ll work on it.” Baker Bloch was thinking they definitely weren’t going to work on that.

“Better get back to Gregson or whatever. Am I in that (town)?”

“We’ll work on that too.” Baker was thinking (her presence there) was a stronger possibility. In fact…

—–

“Do you think I’m beautiful, Marcus?”

“Um, sure you are, *Dharma*,” actor Marcus Fox Smartville answers while staring at himself and wondering basically the same thing, except switch “beautiful” with “handsome.”

“Oh right. Dharma,” she tests. “I like it. Better than Cathy.”

“And I’m Greg,” Marcus added, thinking of how much pancake to apply now. “Like the town.”

“Hmm. Hehe. How does — *prrr* — how does *that* work?” She keeps spinning and spinning in front of the full length mirror with her rose, looking at every angle.

“Baker Bloch said he’s just winging it again. But, don’t you think… *Beautiful*…” He looks over.

Dharma twirls in place and faces him as well. “Yes, *Handsome*, hehe.”

“Haha.” Greg completes his thought, character fully in place now. “Pencil guy,” he states simply.

They exchange some more laughs, picturing the situation.

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dharma

“So how did you find her?” queries Trojan-Durexian war vet Sam Bee, back from the dead.

“Accident,” answers fellow vet Duncan Avocado. “About like everything here. That matters.” They both watch her hover around some more.

“Carol?” calls Sam Bee toward it after the wait. He looks at Duncan. “Could it be…?”

“I think it has to be. A cemetery with one ghost and no headstones. This is the town.”

“Better follow her, then.”

—–

“Well. You are the *Pumpkin King*, after all.”

Duncan always hated that war derived name. To death.

—–

The ghost disappeared on this parcel. They stopped. “This must be the place she wanted us to visit,” spoke Duncan A. “Another empty cemetery?”

Red stop sign; red rent overdue box, they noted. Then something else red more in the distance…

… but on the same parcel and in line with the other two.

—–

66 sign, which probably can be expanded to 66.6. Owned by the Red Devil himself.

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false paradise

It’s going to be tough finding Blue Feather Douglas in the North without falling over the edge. 128/128 here again: right on the edge. I must use caution.

This central island (across the bridge) may hold answers.

So pretty here. Some thread of the storyline must be found.

Tempted to stay on this island forever, but must return to the beginning.

Start anew.

Think of the Trojan-Durexian War again. The last thing I want to do. But I also cannot cross that bridge again. Ever.

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not far enough

“So tell me about this chicken outside, The Mann. I thought this place was the North already. Why the big, Southern mascot, then?”

“Do you like this song? The *black* Elvis, not the white one. Listen to that smooth, jazz-cat voice, eh?”

“Now, now. You’re switching subjects on me again, white man. But — then again, I guess if you’re playing the black Elvis on the jukebox then this has to be the North.”

“Well,” and The Mann turned around to look at the chicken here, “we have interlopers here still. *Close* to the South here. But when you reached this truck stop you could feel safe and breath freely once more. Just a sim down on Route 8: a different story potentially. No trust there yet.”

“Where did you get your car?” I asked, looking outside myself but in a different direction.

“Bought it from some dude who hailed from Pipersville. Heard of it? Sweet deal. Only 60,000 lindens — *no* shipping.”

But then the man in front of me changed. I was speaking to Keith B. again. Or was it Kevin A.? Of the Kevin Orchardsity trio. Time and Space and *Options* were still unstable here.

And who was I?

Better get further North. Totally away from the Chicken People.

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The New Truth

Cathy A., natural mate to Marcus Fox Smartville and also a DJ like Grey Scale Kimball, had long dug Elvis White but didn’t know about Elvis Black until he showed up at one of her pretend gigs in Kensington’s Serenityville day before Wednesday. Always with the primmy rose she was, thus couldn’t spin the other record, the dark side this time. Like the South — but they were *barely* in the North now. North side of the middle that is (Hills of Bill/Neutral Zone). But, perhaps: close enough.

Elvis Black, who of course is our Duncan Avocado in disguise once more, just sat on the wooden bench on the far side of the lawn, letting his presence be known. He didn’t want to seem threatening at all, just seen. Here was a keeper of the portal, he thought from within. Like Marcus before her. Maybe they’re even one and the same, or at least soulmates. I think with the common rose it’s obvious. Is it the *same* rose?

—–

Day after Thursday he stands before Cathy, turning Grey in the process. Exactly east from this spot on the day between Sunday and Tuesday of the previous week, Gabby Truth saw it coming.

“You have lost the West but gained the East,” he spoke, seeing visions in his scrying ball once again. “But, at the same time, you have lost the South, but gained — yes — the North.” He draws back his white, pancaked face from the glow. “Interesting.” He looked over at Elvis Black — black Elvis. “All the 4 directions at once, blabber de blah…”

But they weren’t “all at once,” as Gabby proclaimed. He had himself lost separation of time in his chatty mannerisms. Elvis’ — Duncan’s — losses were 2, the latter nested inside the former. This was not seen today, this between day.

—–

Duncan becomes fully Grey on a day of the week further down from Friday. “I have lost the South but gained the North,” he said in DJ character, staring at the 2 records, spun and un-spun.

Gabby Truth finally remembers to turn off the light in his crystal ball.

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Return

TO BE CONTINUED…

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August 15, 2019 · 7:38 am