September 22, 2017 · 8:54 am

Earie, Rocky and Terry

Earie decided to teleport over to the sim named Ear for potential musical inspiration but found only an empty sim with nothing in it except Route 02 and some lining Linden trees and plants. But just to the north: another potential Heterocera Smallerville.

And yet another Bodega Supermarket and Deli within. Is this where the pink elephant went? he asks himself.

Nope, no red door in back like Terry said there would be.

—–

Rocky heard a noise in back. He quickly picks up his gun and gets in ready position. “Alrighty come on out of there scoundrel.”

“Whoa, chill there Mr. R. It’s just me. Terry. The guy you hired to replace the comedian, getting off his shift. You didn’t drive him away by trying to shoot him too, did ya?”

Wiping his brow, Rocky points the gun down. “Oh Terry. I forgot you were behind there.” What a handsome demon, Rocky thinks again. Is Terry so pretty he’s turning him gay? He gets out of the way so the new bartender can pass.

“Well… see you tomorrow. About 3 o’kay?”

“We don’t really get any business until around 4, Terry. So come at 4.”

Terry pouts, and so cutely that Rocky yields.

“Alright you can show up at 3. We’ll play cards together if no one is here.”

“Swell Mr. R. I can use the extra dough. I mean, from stealing your money at cards.” He points to him and emits a cool, clicking sound with his mouth before departing eastward. The smitten raccoon watches with great interest.

Rocky begins to plan where he’ll set up the card table and how the seats will be arranged. “I hope that dreaded pink elephant doesn’t show up early again reeking of marijuana,” he then mutters.

A light bulb turns on above his head. Pot!

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September 22, 2017 · 1:11 am

Smallerville

“What happened to the other pink elephant, Ziffie?”

“Howard? (Do) you mean Howard?”

“I don’t know his name,” the visiting Baker reinforced.

“Island,” Ziffie spoke. “Skies,” Ziffie clarifed. “Island in the Skies,” Ziffie amalgamated.

“So he’s left [delete name] town?”

“Not far,” Ziffie then said. “Island. Skies.”

“Yes, I gathered,” spoke Baker Bloch flatly. Where *is* Hucka Doobie? he thought to himself.

—–

“So this is it, Hucka Doobie. Right where Ziffie said it would be.”

“And where did you meet these people? These elephants?”

“That town right over there. Baker Bloch pointed to his left. The town you were suppose to meet me in.”

“Sorry I lost the landmark. I’ve had a lot of things on my mind lately.”

“Pollinating party organizing is tough, I’ve heard. But only from you.”

“And I had other stuff to do.” Hucka Doobie didn’t clarify.

“Well, should we?”

“Sure.”

—–

“Not much to it, Baker Bloch.”

“A good view of the town, though,” Baker offered, peering over the south edge. “I suppose that’s why he chose the spot. Didn’t want to go too far up with it.”

“Should we go inside this cottage?”

“Call first… but I don’t have… wait, I remember the name now.”

“Spit it out.”

“Howard?” Baker called. “Howard??” he said again. No answer.

“That’s enough of a warning for me, along with a rap on the door. Three times then we’re in. My rule.”

“Alright,” Baker Bloch agreed.

—–

“No knocking needed, Baker Bloch. Door just opened right up.” Hucka Doobie gazed at the blood red curtain just beyond. He turned to Baker. “I’m not afraid, are you?”

“No,” the half dead avatar lied.

They plunged ahead with sweaty palms.

“This is all there is?”

“It’s the Black Lodge, silly,” states Hucka Doobie, breathing a little easier. “Twin Peaks; Black Lodge.” I wonder where the midget is?”

“I believe dwarf or little person is the appropriate terminology, Hucka Doobie. And being about 3 feet tall yourself, you’re one to talk.”

“I know who did this. Must be Buster Damm. Or that Tonshi woman. Or both of them together. This is where *they* went. I feel (this truth) in me from head to feet.”

“Go ahead and try out a chair Hucka Doobie.”

“I have a better idea,” said the bee-person. “We’ll do it together.” They positioned themselves in front of 2 of the 3 chairs. “Alright, on 3. One, two…”

The scene shifted. They were outside on the sky island again.

“Not even a cottage up here,” spoke Hucka Doobie, not remembering the last 10 minutes in the least.

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September 21, 2017 · 3:03 pm

see title

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September 21, 2017 · 5:04 am

Terry

Improvio’s siblings Chroma and Earie knew they were being betrayed, and summoned a Fire Ickle to aid them.

He promptly began working at Rocky’s bar after former bartender Bean went missing under mysterious circumstances.

Handsome devil, thinks Rocky. Olde Lapara Towne better lock up all their women for this one.

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September 20, 2017 · 6:40 am

cat and dogged

“Good tomato juice,” says the blue clad Improvio, swigging it down.

“Coffee’s nice as well,” speaks Inertia in turn. “We’ll have to keep this place in mind. They have food too.”

“Met some people, auntie, while I was waiting for you. A couple. One of them said they lived around here. The other said she might move here. Can’t remember their names.”

“Don’t talk to strangers,” the pale woman warned. “The band’s the thing. I see you have the ring on.”

He exposed it more. “Yes, I love it. Thank you so much. Now I have the Spirit of Punk at my disposal. There’ll be no stopping me.” He gulped. “Us, I mean.”

Inertia smiled. “You were always my favorite, Improvio. Ruthless and dogged like me; that’s why I decided to give the ring to you and not Chroma or Earie. You will lead us to the promised land. Have you spoken to Rocky Racco yet? You must sway him to our side. That is a primary goal.”

“Primary color goal,” he added playfully.

“Yes,” she said, looking him over. “Red and yellow might as well be dead and stashed away in that tall grass beneath the train ramp.” Inertia then scowled toward the shop window. Both knew the cat listening in on their conversation would also have to be killed and put within same.

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September 19, 2017 · 6:55 am

stay

Teebestia tries to understand. She had followed Paul up to this sim line but didn’t cross when he changed from white to black. Then she didn’t follow him again across the same line when he entered Malone Central through Owls Head. She *is* scared. Something deep down keeps her from doing so. And now Hoss has had a vision! Omikron City… black lady, he said. Teebestia suspects David Bowie’s wife but then tries to remember if she had ever *been* this wife back there. Hmmm. “Something doesn’t add up,” she says aloud.

Teebestia huffs and turns toward Clownski’s. I can’t wait to hear those kids play this weekend, she thinks. My former paper boys!

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September 19, 2017 · 5:44 am

stay green

Having filled his backpack with more food and supplies from Rocky’s market, Paul was about to enter the underground again when he saw the enlarged hole to the right. No longer a circle but an ellipse.

Then a train ran over him but he was use to that.

Scott Walker (giant sloth) was no longer where he formerly was just beyond, causing havoc in Olde Lapara Towne. Had he moved elsewhere?

He better get back home to Malone Central before he loses his bearings in the labyrinthine streets and alleyways.

But he can’t resist summoning the green ickle from the depths first.

Such fun — but it didn’t knock him out of the red circle per usual.

Sim line. And to his right again: underground. The correct way home.

Mary warned of war. Lamb will not and cannot die with Ram, she said. She had traced the slaughter back to Inertia through The Grapevine. Her three poor possessed nephews were preparing to perform in Clownski’s this coming weekend. Punk, pure and raw. At least the sheriff (their brother) broke free of its deadening influence. Thud thud thud thud. Paul winces at the thought and enters the dark waters again. 10 seconds later he was run over by another train.


Paperboy.

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September 18, 2017 · 7:34 am

pass the vegetables

Also the next day, a fully returned Mary made an announcement to the citizens of Lapara’s Malone Central gathered around the boob tube. “From now on,” she declared, “my name is Mary Tyler and our group will no longer be called Peter, Paul and Mary but Lamb. No argument.”

Everyone nodded their heads, just glad that Mary had put down her fishing rod and joined the living once more.

The great sim battle begins.

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September 18, 2017 · 6:52 am

succulent

Upon returning from her trip to Omikron City, Inertia immediately got rid of the bleating rams which had wandered into the yard from parts unknown. “We’ll not start that cycle of life and death over again,” she proclaimed while knitting a coffin purse on the front porch and enjoying the peace and quiet of nighttime Astarte.

The next day the local butcher shop started a special on mutton.

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September 17, 2017 · 1:34 pm

two and one

“You don’t mind if I take notes do you Wheeler?”

“Not if you don’t mind me watching tv while we talk.”

“Fair enough. Oh me, what iz that?”

“It’s comedy. Blowtorch to the head. Side splitting.”

“I guess so,” says a confused Hoss. “So we better start. Teebestia warned me I have to get above ground by sunset.”

“She’s smart. Have I met her?”

“I’m not sure. She sent me down to do the initial interview. She may enter later.”

“Cool. So what do you want to know about me pumpkin?”

Hoss blushed slightly. “First off, where are you from? Where are you born?”

“Farmington.”

Hoss gets chills. So that checks off, he thinks. “And your birth name is Wheeler Wilson, like it is now?” Others warned him that this may not be so.

“Nah,” Wheeler admitted. “I was born a man. Wilson Wheeler. I reversed the name when I reversed sexes. Or changed sexes, whatever. How’s that?”

Hoss scratches his head. He didn’t expect this! How to proceed: he decided to ask the most obvious question to get it out of the way. “Why… why did you do that, Wheeler?” Then he realized he probably went too far and backed off. “I mean, only if you want to tell…”

“I was in disguise. I was a woman all along. Except I didn’t realize it. Until I became one. 21.”

“21?”

“Years. 21 years. That’s when I became Wheeler Wilson and not Wilson Wheeler.”

Hoss was, fer sure, thinking that Wheeler was lying now. She knows about Henry Wilson!

“What’s your stance on civil rights, Wheeler Wilson?” He eyed her keenly.

She threw up her hands. “Civil rights for all. Man, woman, black, white, Muslim, Christian. Why wouldn’t I be for civil rights since I’ve been on both sides of the fence? Gimme a break. How can you be prejudice of someone you’ve been!”

“Have you been black as well?”

Without answering, Wheeler locks stares with Hoss.

For a moment he was somewhere else.

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