June 26, 2024 · 7:36 am

00430311

“We’ve been controlling your dreams for a while, Fern, judging your actions and the consequences involved. We’ve been studying your tree in short.”

Fern knew to be quiet in the moment. Fern knew this was important.

“We see you’re *clearly* qualified to join our group, The Masters. What we, as a group again, aren’t sure of is if you should become president. It’s either me… or you.” He looks at the golden gun on the table. Fern wakes up.

—–

“Were any jokes involved?” asks fellow cereal eating Lichen that morning at the breakfast table, the sun rising over her right shoulder in the window behind her from Fern’s perspective, just like it did with her “rival” in the dream. Lichen’s usually twirling and swirling mouth straw kept still as the sun kept rising.

“No,” she answered. “It was all dead serious. The guy even had a skull for a head. Dead — serious.”

Lichen knew this was bad and that somehow someway she had to enter Fern’s dreams with her. A mind meld came to mind.

(to be continued)

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June 25, 2024 · 4:07 pm

00430310

“What about that chick behind me, V? You stalked her around too. If you choose her instead of that orange Doofus — maybe we’ll get along better than ever.  You can see what ol’ silverhhand here can actually do.” He stares down at his metal hand and expertly wiggles each finger to emphasize his point. I’ve decided not to go with this “Hustle” girl for these very reasons. We have enough complications to deal with besides sexual attraction, at least on the part of Jonny. I told him this.

“So it’s Edward, then, hmph,” he replied, kind of lowering and shaking his head, then raising it again with a new thought. “Oh… about the Japantown girl. I remember her name — speaking of hands. It’s *Han*. And as I recall, yeah she lived over there somewhere. Mysti’s probably right about all that. 1/2 Japanese as I also recall. Couldn’t tell it by her eyes, though.”

I think: So Jonny also believes she is his missing hand come back to haunt him. Interesting. I became curious. “So… Jonny. What actually happened to your hand, your arm? I mean the real one?”

“Threw it away in that deep trash pit over in Japantown — what do I care?”

But that’s exactly where *they* found it.

(to be continued)

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June 24, 2024 · 4:56 pm

00430309

“It all started with Redd, Doc. We were just sitting in my car at the time, an old Oldsmobile I believe. Some piece of junk or another Stinch talked me into buying from his uncle’s cousin up in Grapeshot. Anyway, Redd was there, telling me what she could do, the prices — kind of like you, Doc, ha. Screwing me over.”

“Yes,” said nonplussed Clyde from a nearby chair. “Go on.”

“Bj was the standard for the car, she said. Quick yet effective. The back seat and the others will be more, she indicated. I glanced in the back, realized I hadn’t cleaned off the seats from all those Burger Shot wrappers and stray fries and such. Damn Stinch and his junk food habits. You see, I’d just bought the car off his uncle’s cousin day before yesterday’s yesterday.”

“Wednesday,” Clyde clarified more for the reader than anyone.

“Yeah, suppose. Drove all the way up there with him and still had to pay 50 dollars more than what Stinch said he was asking for the old thing.”

“You mentioned Gold earlier. Color of the car?”

“Color of the *man*,” Frank Lynn corrected to his June-July-August therapist, soon to be replaced by Fremont in the Fall. “And the car. Everything gold about him, even the teeth.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Clyde. “You bought a gold car from a gold skinned man with gold for teeth.”

“Yeah. Midas kind of fellow for sure.”

“Sounds like a robot to me.”

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June 24, 2024 · 4:23 pm

00430308

“I have a weakness, Clyde. I  can think wide easily enough, think about it all day long, all day and all *night* long. But I have trouble with *tall* — height.”

“Height challenged, yes,” spoke the psychiatrist back to his most famous and most wealthy client. Money to throw away on a doctor of the mind. All night and all day.

Clyde looked over at the 5’7″ Frank Lynn, soaking wet. He’d just emerged from the pool; took a quick swim to relax himself before the session. Albert didn’t have time to towel him down today, so busy he was with all the horses out back in the unmowed pasture. Dr. Clyde Ramsey came to him — house call. 2x the amount of money compared to back in his downtown office, he warned ahead of time. “No problem,” Frank replied, and they set up the 1st session. This was the 4th. This was the one where they started into the nitty and the gritty of the Martian problem, Asylum Inc. and all. This is the one where Frank revealed his big big plans for the future.

Albert came in through another door, smelling of stallions. Now Frank could get dry and gain an inch or two. Like the instant haircut he can receive from entering one of his many short cars except reversed.

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June 24, 2024 · 7:31 am

00430307 (1/2 mil at least)

But does he really?

He goes into his bedroom to make a call to Lester, telling him the assassination is done and that he wants his money and new house for the job. After Lester says it’s a done deal, all his personal belongings disappear before his very eyes.

“What the???”

Frank Lynn wakes up, rises off the wide if short couch he fell asleep on. 8:30 in the evening: time to get in a real bed, he figures. He has 7 king size ones to choose from now, depending on which direction he wants the sun to be when he awakens in the morning after a refreshing 8 hours, beyond just these dratted accidental “power naps” of his. Ghetto dreams, pheh. Aunt Jen can only haunt him from them on a couch like from his youth, falling asleep to “Aqua Dude Hunger Force” reruns on the boob tube or something. He’s so far above his gangster roots and Aunt Jen and her woman power ways it’s not even funny. He thinks about the wide if not high garage full of short, powerful yellow cars — horse-powerful. He runs through other aspects of his wealth and influence in his head. Asylum Inc. He *will* make it a reality.

Time to get back to the Red book colored blue. He has them all about the house to find easier. If he misplaces one, there’s always another to fill in right around the corner. Always puts him right to sleep. *No* ghetto dreams in an actual, full sized bed. Power.

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June 22, 2024 · 2:49 pm

00430306 (Ms. Blue Eyes)

“Saw a weird image out on the street. Seems like your kind of work.”

“What did it look like?”

“Grabbed a scan, take a look.”

“Yeaahh, V. You just shared a porn clip with me.”

“W-whaat?”

—–

“Silverhhand. Had to be. You form a harmonious whole in the moment. Look for more images in the same location. This… woman seems to be communicating from one plane to Jonny but also another plane to you. Another 2n1.”

“Great.”

“A difficult time is coming where you’ll have to choose a path. Then, you’ll understand.”

Exhale. “Dunno if I’m swallowing all this, Mysti.”

“Just come on back when you find more. I’ll help decipher what you’ve seen.”

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June 21, 2024 · 2:26 pm

00430305

I knew with my limited computer power combined with some limitations of the game itself, I would not be visiting C2077 and its Nightsity, etc., in person anytime soon. Yet developments still continue there thanks to the efforts of others like Daydreaming Gamer, The Martian, and, especially lately, Lettuce Walk. Through the latter, V has been stalking his potential new body around town trying to detect habits and patterns. He better hurry because those aforementioned agents are still on his trail. More on that soon.

Oh. And I found a demon in one of the longest C2077 walking videos made by Daydreaming Gamer currently online. Pretty cool. Pretty scary. Is this an entity behind the Black Wall staring out at me, however briefly? Do they even *exist* in time, though? A large whooshing sound accompanied the glance so I knew this was in all likelihood a real “paranormal” phenomenon.

A type of grandma figure led me to this moment starting with her own, much less threatening glance…

… soon passing by a TILE styled kiosk at the bottom of the stairs here. And just beyond: it.

We find out later that the umbrella holding woman’s name is Magenta. In both cases?

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June 19, 2024 · 8:38 am

00430304 (Page?)

“I tried to lighten the mood early in our friendship by showing him the Tire Nutz juxtaposition, Lichen, which he didn’t know about despite being local too. You’d be proud of me that day. Two big tractor tires on top of an auto repairs shop just down the street from my dealership, with a phallic water tower in back if you look at it straight on. Obviously done on purpose. Can you picture it in your mind’s eye, Lichen my partner? Do you even remember what those things look like, how they’re configured and such?”

“The tires are nuts, right,” says Lichen, serious in the moment while trying to figure all this out with her lesser brain power. “And the Blue Balls were nearby?”

“The Kentucky sculpture, yes, with three balls instead of 2, so: moons. Made by Tennessee. This was the fulfillment of her unfinished Mars project, poked through into another dimension. But Asylum was behind all of this still.”

“So we’re beyond… the Black Wall?”

“I’m not ready to go that far, my blonde buddy. It’s beyond me right now. And you know how I don’t like limitations of the mind.”

“Dangerous,” responds Lichen to this. “Keep ’em at bay with jokes.”

“Hmm.”

—–

One sector over, Clara Bellissaria is keeping tabs on tobacco selling Redd back at her station, noting that she is a 2n1 now and that the new left is different from the old right. The white horse leads, the black horse steers. Hasn’t gone off the rails yet. But soon she knew there would have to be a decision made, and Fern through her.

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June 18, 2024 · 2:49 pm

00430303 (transparent meanings)

Augusta ponders blame and culpability. Looking at you, city council.

In the mind’s eye, Frank drives by the now empty lot after the disaster and thinks of his own emptiness, as in the past he came from. Growing up in Davis with an aunt he didn’t respect enough in retrospect. Didn’t take her woman power ways seriously enough. And now here he is desperately seeking the feminine in himself. Too much masculine: too many powerful, horse laden yellow cars and such.

Who to turn to in a crisis? Certainly not questionable tea dispensing Albert from Murkville. Should’ve screened him better before the hire.

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June 15, 2024 · 1:17 pm

00430302

—–

“I’m actually here looking for V, Emeralda. Have you seen him around lately? Horns, you know, like me, except two of them. Like if Benny and I were one again, Horns of Hatton and all. We’re looking to synchronize the left and the right again, two parts of one. Side for you, side for me.”

“V is in a different world,” spoke Emeralda in that strange, smokey voice of hers. Only 1/2 woman at best. 1/2 human actually.

Jer Left Horn waited for more, then had to ask himself. “Okay, *which* world?” Authoritative tone for an authoritative man. Brother Benny’s in contrast was ordinary, even goofy. Like he didn’t give a damn about his high position in the world. Except for the women — low self esteem you see — figures it’s the only way he can get any.

“His own”, she answered, then just vanished from the couch after flashing him some weird sign, he observes. First a V with one hand then a V with the other with the first still held up, then joined together. VW… V or Val’s World? he ponders later.

Great, Jer Left Horn thinks in the present. My only contact in this God forsaken place disappeared into thin air like the green genie she is. He’ll have to poke around himself, see if he can find any more clues concerning the whereabouts of his… well… father. *Supposedly*.

Meanwhile, on a different world, V looks to switch bodies again, knowing new agents were on his trail. This doofus will do, he thinks, seeing the figure superimposed with his letter as he passed him on the streets; determined it was destiny. To prepare the transfer, he’d have to stalk the fellow for a while, learn his habits, figuratively live in his skin before doing so literally. All this coming from the future — shouldn’t be hard since it was preordained. Pieces should fall into place pretty quickly, he thinks. Side for you, side for me.

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