Tag Archives: Alo Bama^*%%

00400613 (Yellow again!)

Marsha thought they could talk freely here during the night in the park between all the buildings of the compound. Little did she know the trees, the birds, the flowers, even the bugs: bugged. Dr. Mouse would analysis the recordings later from his various sources. Eddie looked up at the big fat full silver moon before starting his soliloquy, “I love you,” being the summary sentence.

“Run away?” she said about one of the other parts, the “plan” we’ll call it.

“Yeah,” he said at the time. “Look over there. Between the bushes. I brought you something.” Broad smile. About time to say the “love” part.

Yet another bug, seemingly a different kind this time. But it was miked up as well, along with having an attached tracker. And perhaps even another one of those explosive time bombs, but definitely the first two. And maybe even Eddy, her Edward, put them there, in cahoots with the good Dr. Mouse by this point. Maybe he knows about all the bugs here. Thanks to the mother once more.

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00400610

“I try to meet our new, ahem, students at least once but I hope in our case we encounter each other again and again, Ms…”

“Krakow,” spoke Marsha to Dr. Paul Mouse, head of the organization and secretly working for Head, often known as Perch.

“Yes, Marsha Krakow, hmm. And with an additional name if I remember correctly. One only friends can say.”

“Correct, Dr. Paul… what was it?”

“Mouse,” said Paul Mouse.

“No. A middle name.” She smiled wryly.

“Oh yes — clever. I’ll give you mine and you’ll divulge yours. Well, mine is [delete name].”

“Never heard of that. Well mine is Pink, spelled like the color and not the cologne.”

“Not p-n-k, then. I remember from when my wife got me some a couple of Christmas’ ago. Still sitting on the shelf above the medicine cabinet, unused.”

“But other people swear by it. Man of your,” not age, she thought — *distinction*, “*distinction,*” she said aloud, “– might be handy is all I’m saying.”

“So you believe in its love potion powers. You are a true P-n-kie.”

“Look at me,” Marsha spoke about her appearance. “I use to sell it. I had a hot pink car before I traded it for a yellow. Got tired of seeing putrid yellow-green as an aftereffect all over the road on sunnier days.” So for the first time we understand the color.

“Interesting. But do you *really* believe–”

“That is for me to know and you to find out.” Could she wield her considerable powers over *him*? This is what her mother feared, why she was put into that totally colorless black and white cow costume and forced to forget. Venus power. All this, she realized, all this organization must be about her.

He realized he was staring at her uncomfortably. He pretended to organize his files about her before him, shuffled Pink on top again from the bottom. This was no time to bring up the 3-n-1 and the presence of Shelley Johnston Struthers (I was right!) and Frankie Brown Beige (or Beige Brown!) within as well. Pink on the surface; Pink she is. If only Marsha to him still, not counting as a friend. Yet.

(to be continued)

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00400609 (Perch)

The slideshow they had prepared was *bore-ing*, but at least she wasn’t in Rockaway Beach Municipal Prison any longer, thanks to her mother. But it was thanks to her mother, she reminded herself, that she was in there in the *first* place. What did she do wrong except be adorable, she couldn’t help laughing at herself.

She looked out the window, at the large, altered American flag flying out there. At least they also like Obama, she thought about the face superimposed atop the stars part. But maybe this is just an older parcel and he was still the president when all this was formed, this *reform* camp. Land description does say the owner is not that involved in Our Second Lyfe any longer. Would explain why the mug of Trump isn’t around, because it sounds like the guy, from a glance at his other interests (suggested open gun carrying in Our Second Lyfe? say whaaaat?), might be a follower of *that* cult. Cults attract cults after all, refuge for the causers.

And what’s all this stuff about worshiping Venus?

This is what you get for following a Head without a Body.

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red over blue (Democracy continues)

It’s a very blue place, she thinks. 10:01 AM. Yet she stares.

Wonder why Myrtle doesn’t like linden plants? she ponders.  I’ve *always* liked linden plants. Maybe the only one she respects, the branchy winter tree with no leaves, is my *least* favorite, hmph.

Someone else should be with me here in this lonely spot, she ruminates. Someone else blue.

She suddenly has the urge to get up and dance. Must be the costume. And the place.

—–

“I see plumeria over there,” she spoke later to rail sitting Edward, her chosen beau for the day. She’d changed into something safer, something non-dancey, urge abated. “I see palm tree no. 1, palm tree no. 2. And then a cypress tree 1 just up the hill. What’s not to love?”

“Different strokes for different folks,” Edward offered to Shelley’s continued rant. She just couldn’t get the logic of Myrtle’s opinion.

“Very regimented. *No* chaos. No mention of mainlands. What a mess! she might exclaim. Yet… she’s there. On Constance.”

“*You* put her there. Even gave her that weird belly button, the on and off thing.”

“The Abyss must be a key. That’s where we meet, her and me. That’s where I can tell her off if she doesn’t friend me.”

“Drop it,” urges Edward to the girl, perhaps the love of his life. If Wanda doesn’t enter the picture again. “Let it go.”

“The *island* is all about that merger.” But as she spoke this, she began to doubt her words. It was more than just that.

—–

The next day Shelley replaced Edward with Arthur in the sim of Escanes and they studied the illegal TILE treatises of Bart and Lisa in a sand covered underwater room directly beneath a false island planted with those plumeria and palms, thinking their actions there were unexposed to the prying eyes of superiors on the FILE. They weren’t; didn’t call them that for nutt’n.

(to be continued)

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investigations continue

Blue Rose Thorn is at it again, stopping at Escanes this time in the Wild West’s Long Islands. Check out the sign: “YES… WE CAN!” Es… can(es) again you’ll notice. Democrats as well, since this is Obama’s presidential slogan. It’s all about symbols this go around. Signs.

Blue Rose Thorn writes down what he’s found in a local beauty spot before moving on.

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getting small

First he was on the floor.


Then he was stuck in the eleva-toor.

I wish Alo Bama would make up his mind.

Whether he was in front. Or behind.

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Presidents’ Ball 04

“Money, get back / I’m all right, Jack / Keep your hands off my stack / New car / Caviar / Four-star daydream / Think I’ll buy me a football team.”

The gala crowd erupts, to which Sprite adds on top: “Tear down this wall, Mr. Orange!”. The crowd continues to clap. A “Tear Down The Wall” chant begins slowly, then builds, until Alo Bama takes the mic and motions everyone to calm down.

“*Freedom*. (pause) It’s what everyone wants, everyone cherishes.” Alo Bama indicates Sprite sitting back in the crowd. “Like our tree friend Mr. Sprite, waiting to be unencumbered by the shackles of The Wall, ready to join Wallytown as a *full* *fledged* *citizen*.”

The crowd claps enthusiastically again. “With inalienable rights,” he says over them, calming them down once more. “And established levels of treatment honoring decency, character (pause), respect.” “You go Alo!” someone shouts in the rear, prompting him to reply, “I’m going, I’m going. ” Scattered laughter is heard. “I’m telling it like it is.”

—–

“I thought you were going to dramatically change into Green Squirrel or Roger Pine Ridge or something to show who you really are,” spoke Natali seated beside Sprite now, his date for the night.

“Ahh, it just didn’t seem to fit the bill. Didn’t feel right. It was *my* poem and that’s what counts.”

“I suppose… oh he’s starting to talk about the Bottle Mound indians now.”

—–

“On the one hand,” Alo Bama extends his left arm and opens his hand. “Orange. On the other…” Alo Bama extends his other arm with the mic. “Purple… Violet, some say, although they prefer the former and we should respect (pause) their rights. And they’ve fought with each other, fought, fought, fought, down through the years, the centuries (pause). And what’s come of it, hmm?” A “free the trees” protest comes from the same person as before in the back. Alo Bama ignores it this time.

“Death is what came of it. And *disappearance* (pause) in time.”

—–

“You know he really is quite the orator,” opined Dr. I.C. Yourinsides to Captain Spocari. But when he didn’t respond she found that he’d fallen asleep.

“*Really* Captain. But I guess you’re all knackered out from this afternoon, hehe. Twice a day keeps the doctor okay.”

—–

“And now. (pause) The Mound. (pause) Comes here. Leemon or Leeman standing on the beach just beyond 1/2 refuses to even admit it is there. He can’t fully *see* (pause) this *new* New Island. The Greys *descend*…

… and fall backwards, face down (pause) in the sand.”

—–

“When’s he going to get to Jimmy?” whispers Billy Bloodsworth on a back couch to Lavender. “I can tell he’s nervous up there, ready to come out of his shell like Alo Bama and Bill C. did before him.”

“Be patient,” replies his sister-in-law. “He has to get to the point in his own, circular way. That’s what makes him such a great speaker.”

“Jimmy was better.”

“Nice of you to say.”

“He *was.*”

(to be continued)

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