October 28, 2023 · 2:36 am

00400508

In her mind, the 3 within settled down and organized themselves, Marsha “Pink” Krakow on top and up front again. As such, she approaches the effigy of the crocogator in the southeast corner of Sirens Isle.

“I was wrong to seek the treasure in the sea, Carrcassonnee (she says her true name). Nothing but pyrite here.”

But then she spied the handy teleporter next to the false treasure chest and was lured away again.

MEANWHILE…

The crocogator takes to the land and moves inside a different southeast corner to give Bart the news.

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October 27, 2023 · 10:43 am

00400507 (Flashback Friday)

00080601

Walking through the arch once more, [Tropp] traveled far from Braynard’s Place to a 4 sim land some call Eden itself.

Whilst sitting against a log beside a grove of nice, pink trees, he is inspired to write a song about New Island’s Pipewold and being X-ed out.

But he was not alone. For the Alices were there.

And the Rabbits.

And some others.

All in all, a Grand Old Time was had of it.

Mention of Tropp passing through the past-future arch again, you’ll notice. And 2 Alices here, although yet different again from the 2 Alices in Big Sandy now, Tart and Farrowheart for the latter pair. The 2 earlier ones: no surname that I recall; undifferentiated in that way.

The mentioned “some others” didn’t matter. Or… did they?


Madam Mexico

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October 26, 2023 · 2:59 pm

“Wobbly…

“… she was in the head, just having finished her stiff drink. But she knew.”

Laura was reporting back to Dolores, the Big Boss of Big Sandy. Just across Big Channel she was. Somewhere. Laura had her phone number at least. She continued speaking into her cell after receiving message after message earlier. “Call me”, “Call me”, “Call me”, they read. “We need to talk,” was the implication, “we need to catch up. I’m here to help.”

She was on my council, perhaps as a counsel.

—–

“I had a dream there was not one giant bug but many, weaving a grid so regular it acted as a prison. I was back in Meat City, the Utah part after Broadwater and Rockaway Beach and the Osbournes and Kuradov but before the big bend away from all that at Rhodenwald. The part that’s *locked up* with (Utah’s) Kamas in other words.”

Kamas reduced to Kama was too close to Karma, she knew. And Laura also from a defunct place called Strong Karma — resonance.

“You must focus on Big Sandy right now as best as you can,” she advised. Until the end of section 05 of this here present photo-novel was the hidden meaning. I think.

—–

I knew the Silver King Grill was a stand in for Strong Karma (SK). And although defunct, I knew where its spirit lived on, then. New Eden.

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October 24, 2023 · 10:41 pm

no humbug

“You don’t understand the corruption of Butterfingers. He and his big ol’ parachute came down from the sky and cast a dark shadow over the whole mountaintop, likewise yellow Brick Road, *everything*.” Spoken from the heart. Laura knew a lot about the Land of Oz. She, after all, use to live there. Right before they turned off the lights.

“*Money*,” she followed, looming over them and casting her own black shadow. “Money ruined it then and money’s ruining it again. Cheapskatedness,” she made up a word about the issue.

Earlier:

“2000 linden dollars,” he said in his nasal, boyish way about the price to custom spray paint her dune buggy, careful not to cross the southeast corner of the property else the spell might be broken. Or so the Wizard told him.

“Oh that’ll be fine,” she said dreamily. After she saw the finished product and received the exorbitant bill she kept asking why why why?? Magic was afoot here, she then thought correctly. And not the white variety.

Mrs. Ordinary felt the need to go over and tell new bestie Pink all about the latest Big Sandy mystery/sorcery. What better way to do it than to show her the revamped bug up close and personal. But the reaction was unexpected.

“I *love* it — except for the price of course. Let’s take it for a spin — say, the tiny restaurant again?”

When Marsha watched Mrs. Ordinary — Ginger (Ginger?) — pay the bill once more, including another bottle of expensive liquor, she got an idea. “Here’s a theory — do you suppose that word has gotten around Big Sandy about how much money you spend? Attracting the scheming boy?”

And this is when overhearing Laura at the next table came over and did her spiel.

“*Wait*,” exclaimed Pink afterwards. “Did you just say he was *yellow*?”

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October 24, 2023 · 3:28 pm

00400504

Laura (black woman dancing to Black Sabbath in that last post) use to live next door to where she is now in a trailer with more colorful decoration. She left it behind for yet another Alice, Farrowheart in this case, who by chance was *also* looking for family here. “What a coincidence!” she cried over “Into the Void” when Alice Tart relayed to her the same. The 2 Alices must be looking for each other!

But, turns out, the name synchronicity was meaningless. Alice Tart was searching for her sisters Gloria and Wanda, who were indeed last seen in a Bellissaria sandy spot but further north and west on the old continent. We’ll see if they turn up anyway. Then Alice Farrowheart, the replacement neighbor in her former trailer (old woman, she thinks when accepting her application; *she* won’t be too much trouble surely!) was looking for a child, a granddaughter to be more specific. “Smart as a whip,” she described her when signing the agreement, adding in the alliterative phrase “precious precocious” a couple of times, she recalled. Last Alice F. heard: taken by pirates, rumored to be associated with USS Galaxy sitting big and fat and loong out in the Big Sandy harbour over there.

“Well, did you go on the ship, look around?” queried Laura after signing the contract herself as owner. 1 year lease. She liked the neighborhood but the neighbor’s trailer to the east was just a bit too close for rocky comfort. And also he (Tom) liked to spy on her during various moments of the day, like shower time, exercise time, times when her boyfriend Ted came over — you get the picture. Let Tom get a gander of old, wrinkled up Alice F. instead! she thought while the ink dried in front of her.

“I got in touch with a ship steward who verified she was there,” answered Alice F. “Last seen hanging out with 2 men, one of whom was two toned in hue.”

“How did she get there in the first place?”

“Well. Let’s just say Toddles has a penchant for *wandering*.”

(to be continued)

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October 24, 2023 · 5:29 am

blackness and light

She was just finishing hanging up the sheets when the music started next door. “Darn tiny restaurant,” she cussed at first, then began involuntarily dancing in place when she realized it was Ozzie Osbourne’s old group Black Sabbath, and her favorite album of theirs “Master of Reality” ta boot. Oh what the heck, she thought. Time to meet some of the neighbors anyway, make some new friends potentially. But I’ll also gently remind whoever is in charge over there that the music must stop at 11 — she needs her beauty rest. And if they started with the country… well, that’s it. She’ll ring up the mayor of Big Sandy who is a good friend. Dolores something, she recalls, if not quite grasping a last name to go with the familiar first. Just across Big Channel she lives — probably can hear the music a bit from her place as well, she figures.

But by the time “Into the Void” rolled around, last track on the famed heavy metal album, everyone was pooped out except herself and Alice over there, still dancing up a storm too. She may have made one friend tonight. They had a common interest. Finding family in the Land of Sand.

(to be continued)

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October 23, 2023 · 9:43 am

blog post now

“It was a naval kiss but not that kind of kiss. From River — you remember. You almost put it in a blog post back then. Novel 39 I believe. Jack Benny the comedian-violinist would not be proud that you have moved into 40. He wished to remain (in) 39 all of his life!”

Once again Marsha started to ponder All Orange, thinking back to the research she did in her old room over in Meat City on the Omega continent, Mother feeding her free sandwiches and whatnot throughout it all. Probably drugged as well, she concludes as she’s thinking of it, reviewing it. Distracted by the computer, she knew she wouldn’t notice. Mother. *Mother*.

She bounced up out of the lounger. Mother put down her second apple she was working on, having thrown away the core of the first in the beach grass or bushes just over there. 1st green, this one red. She had progressed from better to best by the taste of it. Or worse to worst, depending on which way you’re looking at the situation.

“Stew dogs’ ready!” called Eddie from the red hot grill. “WELLL. I hope you’re still hungry after all that fruit,” spoke pseudo-daughter Marsha down to Wheeler with this. Wheeler, on her part, was going to see eating the latest apple through to the bitter end. She intended to eat the core this time. She was going to finish it all.

But not until after the dogs. Dogg walks up. “Rat you reating Reeler?”

“None of your business mutt,” she dismissed him out of hand.

“Rogg, actually,” spoke Dogg, thinking she just misstated his actual name. Moving on…

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October 22, 2023 · 10:41 am

00400501

When Marsha “Pink” Krakow returned to what she knew was her true home now, Big Sandy on the oldest Bellissaria continent, her Mother was waiting. With a big surprise. “I bought this for you,” she said to her shocked daughter after she arrived, indicating the trailer. “Pink, you see, or as close as I could get to that hot variation you prefer.” Edward, her Eddie, was already blackening his patented vegetable stew dogs on what Wheeler told him was his new grill. He was already sold.

“Oh. And that pink scooter you’re standing beside! What do you think?”

Marsha was thinking of *price*, not necessarily money price but emotional price. And here it comes.

“I can see you’re speechless, dearest. Come sit beside me and we’ll talk.” Wheeler patted the lounging couch across from her and then pulled out an apple to eat. “Price?” Marsha wanted to ask her so bad. “Price price price?” And here it comes.

“Have you talked to Serenity since you’ve been here (chomp, chew chew chew)? Never mind, dear, I know you have. You told her about Shelley, my *actual* daughter.”

“*I’m* your daughter,” she wanted to protest at this point, but knew it technically wasn’t true — in a way. Shelley provided the body and added a lot to the personality as well. But Brown was also there inside. Conscience? Mere gestures? She wasn’t quite sure yet about the so-called 3rd component, the last of a trilogy. And then herself up front and on top of course, resurrected from what happened in photo-novel 19 that she doesn’t like to think about a lot. Cook for the Ozmo Devils. Dead in the head in bed like Jed. “Why didn’t you tell me about Serenity?” she actually said aloud. “That she wasn’t her cousin but her *wife*?”

“Oh it’s just one of those things that slips the mind (chomp; chew, chew, chew). Lots of important stuff going on up there,” and here she pauses in her apple eating to tap on her forehead. “I’m still the mayor of that damn Meat City and its dominant male energy. *I’m* more male than them, despite the body, the femininity,” she decided to put it. Marsha understood. Her mother had to put the town council (etc.) in their place or they’d gain the upper hand again, the blame misogynists. Dominant sex, *pheh*. Marsha had to do the same with her Eddie in a lesser way. It’s just how men are raised in our society in part, she figured. So she didn’t blame him *all* that much for his own, lesser brand of the disease of the mind.

Marsha had to ask this next”: “W-why, then, oh why… did you put me in prison? Turn me into a *doll* Feed me those drugs through my head to think that I *wasn’t* in prison but next door, singing karaoke until the wee hours of the night? With the fake doll looking on?”

“Rockaway Beach?” Wheeler started her answer, citing the name of the first place which was also its location. “Kenzie’s Korner in Kuradov?” she said the same about the second. Now the circumstances.

(to be continued)

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October 20, 2023 · 8:29 pm

another try/revisions

“Senseless war, Speck. Redshirts a plenty.”

“Our past, Cpt.” He arches one of his non-spiraling eyebrows ever higher while checking the tricorder he holds in his hand. “Aand. Our future I’m detecting.”

“How– can… that be, Speck. I… mean…”

“I know what you mean, Cpt.” says Speck, the person playing him thinking that Don is overdoing it again. Shakespearian actors, pheh. He: a Marlowe fan. “Time… doesn’t seem to factor into the equation. Nor space.”

“Space and time, Speck,” gruffly cussed Doc just offcamera here. “Is that all your Vulcan mind can comprehend? There’s such things as *feelings*.”

He turns toward Doc and thus offcamera as well. “I understand feelings too, Doctor. I’m half–”

“Just… stop it– guys.” Cpt. again of course. “This is just– what the Daruvians want us to do. Bicker… amongst ourselves.” He turns halfway toward the camera, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He’s hatching a plot in his mind, a play within a play. “What if… *we* become the actors they *want* us… to be.”

“Or not to be,” Speck chipped in with a rare kind of joke.

Doc — offcamera still — huffed. “You *act*, Cpt. — like the Daruvians are also anything but barbarians. They’re not, dammit. I’ve seen what they did to Jed. Right in the head in bed until he was dead.” He stares intensely at the Cpt. and then Speck. Or so I’ve been told.

“Jed was… an anomaly, Doc.”

“He was a *person*,” counters still fuming Doc. Always angry. Grumpy. “Just because he had 8 arms and a head the size of Nebraska–”

“I’m picking up on something else,” interrupts Speck, always checking for logical developments. “The situation inside the arch has slightly altered to make it a bit more interesting. The primitive weapons known as muskets… are now hoisted over their right shoulders. Not their left.”

All watched as the guns were then lowered and turned. At them.

“RUNNN!!”

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October 20, 2023 · 9:12 am

00400415

Ketchup Tom knew this day would come. End of gig; time to go. But what is time here? It was as if he’d just arrived.

He stared at what he remembered was a sim-skipper outside the window in the harbour. “Should’ve come in on that instead of Marsha’s VW,” he muttered to himself. Marsha was in the shower. *No*: Marsha insisted on renting the place next door instead of staying in the same apartment with Ketchup. She certainly hadn’t given up on Eddie, her Edward, back in Big Sandy — which we’ll be returning to soon.

Ketchup Tom knew he was The Musician. He knew he could come in but, once here, couldn’t leave, unlike so many before him. Because he was different. He and the town were like two cut out pieces of paper stuck together. Like fused leaves of an old waterlogged book found floating in the harbour. “*No*,” he insisted just as vehemently back to Marsha in the rental place next door when he came to tell her. “You have your place and I have mine. Here.”

Yellow House, he knew. He wasn’t going anywhere. Marsha would have leave Gaston by herself.

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