He woke up the next morning to find this basically blocking the way between his new house and his old spherical rocket ship he intended to use to fly down to the city and scout out the place. A coffin, he realized after a pause. He noted that it was held up by a kind of teapot shaped object which he didn’t recognize immediately as a water faucet. His plan of world domination was in jeopardy. The originator of Pan-Z had arrived.
He sat on a plywood cube he’d rezzed underneath a blossoming cherry tree behind it — Apples only spotted him after first seeing the coffin, the “teapot”, the tree, the cube. The coffin made a diagonal between him and his green colored nemesis. Appropriate.
Apples could barely make out the tiny voice when he announced himself, but thought it sounded like, “I believe you have something I want,” which would make sense in the moment. The two entities representing the forces of Pot-D and Pan-Z had come face to face at last. Spore was threatening Apples with death if he didn’t get what he desired.
Apples’ senses were finally waking up. He sniffed the air. Someone or something was inside. Rotting.
“That person inside is *you*.” Clear as a bell now.
Before she left the double peaked mountain, she said goodbye to next door neighbor Oranges, who you may remember as Appleyon from our last photo-novel. He’s switched sides: he lives on the east part of the west side of the double peaked mountains. There’s significance there. Apples and Oranges in one basket.
“I — have… nowhere to go!” she cries between sobs, hoping for the obvious. She knew Oranges had fancied her for the longest time. She’s playing her final card.
Oranges looks on, slightly sympathetic but mostly amused. He offers her a drink from his demonic vending machine blocking the nice view down the mountaintop. “Jedi tea?” he says over. “It might help to cheer you up, Pumpkin.” It was an old game they played with these names, always (an) orange (object) for the green one and green for the orange one. “Okay, Lemmie.” She couldn’t help herself and changed a sob to a giggle in the moment. But he had no intention of letting her stay. Or did he? It was a Somerset dilemma. Another one.
Apples’ plan hatched next door was working perfectly. Or was it? He stares at the teapot hoping for an answer that never came.
Maybe he should ask the apple tree suddenly appearing outside instead.
“Well well well. What do we have here?”
“I can’t steer this thing at all!” purple alien Apples thought while struggling to land his spherical craft amidst the cherry trees atop the western half of Somerset’s Double Mountains.
He walks into his new base, carefully avoiding a rickity looking, boarded up pump well. It’s the little things that often end those of his type, he’s wisely learned down through the centuries. Don’t show off, don’t take chances. Focus laser-like on the task at hand: world domination, ha ha ha.
Apples Too waits pensively at the window.
“Heck of a year so far, eh Apples?” he speaks over. But she had nothing to say, since she knew he felt she was responsible for most of it. Apples was here to take over. Apples Too to her but not to him. Not any more.
“*Now*. Let’s discuss what’s happened since I last saw you.”