Tag Archives: ASYLUM

April 25, 2024 · 4:43 am

00420514 (Asylum?)

She sat at the bar nursing a tall cool glass of lemonade while waiting. Risky to come back here of course, but she had to take the chance. Potential information about her brother! After all these years.

Bartender Ricki Bendicky didn’t seem to recognize her — good. 052 class mechanoids like her sometimes have leaky memories, drippy recollections. Like a faucet they could even run dry if left on too long. And that’s what Mabel was hoping. For a reboot here on the red planet… *not* dead but alive with fauna and flora unique to the universe.

“Slow night tonight, it seems,” she tested. No immediate answer; does the mechanoid even recognize where she worked? Mabel pondered. Is she just programmed to served drinks in this out-of-the-way establishment and that’s that? No RAM for barroom banter, as they call it, no ability to even direct customers to the bathroom? She’s heard of such stripped down types.

But then: “I expected someone older.” Dang, Mabel thought. Spotted!

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February 21, 2024 · 3:16 pm

Green Squirt One (it’s not easy)

He sat up front so he could see better with his littler head. The Mann and Bullfrog sat a row back, glad of the excuse for privacy. Now they could talk freely — or whisper freely — while Aqua Dude was absorbed in the story. The Mann of course knew the contents of the film inside and out, having studied the hated Dynamic Duo for years looking for weaknesses and such. Bullfrog was just glad to get away from his controlling lover/partner and chat with someone else without sparking jealousy. Albert (or Alberta) retreated back into his maintenance position and, as stated, was forgotten by all. Tea serves well as a reminder to forget.

“I thought you were dead,” The Mann began in his whisper of a tone.

“No. That was the doctor. We exchanged places, good for me bad for him.”

The Mann absorbed this. “What about your family? Red Squirt 7 wasn’t it?”

“Dead as well. Dead through gunns.”

More absorbing. “What about wo-mann?”

Bullfrog looked over. Aqua Dude was hanging onto every word Wayne Bruce in front of him spouted about Asylum, a company he started on the western seacoast in 1972. He watched him open a file.

“If you mean why am I still with Aqua Dude, I decided to give up the fairer sex long ago. Tried it in my teen years. Didn’t work.”

“What about the whole frog thing?”

This made Bullfrog think about Frog Rock they passed on the way to Wayne’s villa here. “I guess it was something that just had to be.” He’d thrown away marriage to Miss Parr to become Green. He returned home to the Motherland.


“Missed you Sonny.”

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November 9, 2023 · 4:21 pm

00400614

Once Mouse started blowing up stuff in the sim he couldn’t quite seem to stop. “There, that’s gone,” he said, pushing the red button in his secret monitor room atop the Charles Village Anti-Omega Rehabilitation Center and remotely watching the incinerator snow globe explode. “Gone gone gone,” he continued, blowing up the forest cemetery, the Chthulu possessed skyscrapers, the Millbank Mortuary and Mental Asylum in rapid order, including patient 00 in the latter, drugged with darts in his eyes and formaldehyde in his veins and arteries. He finds the final target on a screen, trigger happy cane again hovering above red. Haunted Trailer Park Welcome Center. Once he blows this up… oh, he forgot the cabin more in the center, the one where Rock found his true calling with the revealing of a middle name Roll. Is rocking “Roll” Ramby still playing within, unable to unglue himself from the old upright piano, former spider occupants all scurried away to other parts of the structure? Do Toddles, Vain and Artery Boyy, Alice Farrowheart remain as well, ears and eyes and brains hypnotized by the brand new style of keyboard banging music?

Rock stopped his frantic playing mid-bang. “I sense something.”

Then just in the nick of time, arrow shooting municipal agent Prontus Archereus barges into the monitor room. “Hold it right there Mouse!” he commands in a mysteriously strong, masculine voice for such a crudely drawn cartoon. The doctor freezes, fearful that another arrow might take out his cane.

“I’ll… cooperate.”

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November 8, 2023 · 2:55 pm

00400612 (holiday rotting away)

A homeless person in Millers Pond looks across the sim line and takes pictures of neighboring Millbank before it’s too late and all the Halloween oddity over there goes away for another 10 or 11 months or so. Specifically, he’s recording a supposed secret meeting between Dr. Mouse and Dr. Brown not far from the mortuary and mental asylum where we first saw them in this here photo-novel: 40, fast drawing to a close itself. Which will last longer might be a question to be asking, Millbank or this?

Two went in, one came out. Murder. Most foul.

—–

“Pretend you’re a woman of that type, Dr. Brown,” Dr. Mouse said within, “with alll these temptations just sitting there all around you. Would you stay on the grounds?”

“No red blooded man *or* woman could resist,” spoke Dr. Brown, knowing human psychology and physiology all too well. Convex and concave — attraction. Irresistible, especially in that overall climate. And he didn’t forget concave to concave; applies here too. The institution Dr. Mouse set up will not hold the girl, a true Venus.

“Serenity Lane, yes,” spoke Dr. Mouse about the fairer sex aspect of the situation, having studied the combined files thoroughly by now. “Drugged her, then drugged her over to the prison, the mother mayor’s magical cuffs in place. Serenity loved Marsha just as much as she loved ex-wife Shelley before; would keep her around at any cost. Shelley… Johnston — Johnston, right?”

“Yeah. Think so,” answered Brown.

“And the other?” Dr. Mouse tested.

“Brown,” answered Brown.

—–

Mouse couldn’t take a chance on the name synchronicity. He’d have to find another second hand to go along with his first in the aberrant bomb clock of time that is their story. Tick tick tick goes the sim of Millbank. Tick tick tick goes the text of photo-novel 40. Oh what the heck, let’s just start with this house to destroy the evidence.

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September 15, 2021 · 6:48 am

Asylum

Guy Benjamin carefully checks the mailbox for explosives before continuing to move in.

He plans to stay here for a while, despite the dangers. Because he’s in hiding again.

Yes this will do I suppose, he thinks. But the animations in the house *suck*.

I guess that’s the point, though. No energy to detect up here in the skies. Blanket silence.

Oh no. Another picture of Foxtrot above the head of the bed. But this one’s crooked. I’ll just get up here and straight– OH NO!!

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August 4, 2021 · 6:14 am

redneck trailer

“Interesting choice of shows, Martha. Do you like aliens?”

“Dunno, whatofit?” Her voice was raspy, as if she’d smoked a 100 cigarettes a day for her 45 years of life. At least the days she was able to reach her mouth with her hand in a coordinated way, that is, beyond infancy and early childhood. She’d had a rough life, and didn’t expect to live past 65 or so. She wasn’t planning on retirement. Her husband Jack was around, but in a wheelchair over at the Asylum. He’d seen things in the dark, heard rumors. So, yeah, she was interested in aliens. She was *studying* them. Must keep deflecting Agent 47 or whatever the f-ck they’re up to down at the station. “Want some pieee?” Pie was code for sexy good times in town. Some of these smart looking ones liked her type. In fact she had a website; must make ends meet *somehow*. Plus she had to have money for her cigarettes. Where were her cigarettes?

The agent was staring unblinkingly at her. She hated when they did that; maybe did something to their eyes in childhood. And she’s heard they need very little sleep. They stay up and read manga most of the night, analyzing it to pieces. Or so she’s heard. “Sooooooo. Taking that for a no?”

“Martha,” he starts firmly. “You know us agents accumulate knowledge on the residents of this town. It’s like coral; my brain is like coral, *our* brain. We are a hive.”

“Soooooo. Nooooooo?”

He stared at the tv screen again. He stared a very long time, then: “How many minutes for the information I need?”

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August 2, 2021 · 9:05 am

00270609

“You know, young laddie, I was going to be big. I don’t mean psychiatrist big. *Big* big, as in owning my own franchise of Pooping Pigeons. Well, someone decided to drop a big big *poop* on that idea. Came back on me, all my past, all my *medical* doctoring. I had to switch doctors, in that I became a psychiatrist instead of a physician. It was just that dramatic a change.” He pointed his cane in the direction of the tunnel and the train station now, past the statue with the pooping pigeon on its shoulder that triggered this whole soliloquy.

“Gee spot — right over there. Came in the tunnel. The Asylum sits on top of it.”

“Did you know,” young Peter File spoke absentmindedly, not really paying attention to the doctor’s ramblings, “I can balance this little paper hat on my nose?” He blew at it with his mouth; the object didn’t move. He sat up, looked at the doctor as if just waking up. “Paper,” he spoke more seriously, taking in the landscape. “We’re in *Paper*.”

“Been here for a while, yes. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Things *changed*.”

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July 31, 2021 · 8:35 am

Mouse Tales

I: How did you come to Paper Soap, Dr. Mouse. Paul, isn’t it?

DM: Yes. I came the way most people come. Through the tunnel. You have to find the G Spot to get in of course.

I: I think I see where this is going.

DM: Yes. It’s all Fraudian (laughs).

I: How did you become head of The Asylum? I know this has something to do with Filetown — helping you out there.

DM: Well I certainly had a lot of *files* to bring through the tunnel with me after getting the job.


files

But seriously, it indeed started way back in Pennsylvania as a file clerk. Filetown is what I personally called the place I lived. That’s where I met Alpha. And Wendy.

I: Tell us about your relationship with Wendy. And Alpha if you wish.

DM: They are (actually) one and the same. Alpha hides what Wendy is. She’s right here — right over there (he points out the window with his cane toward the conveniently placed big banana sticking up from the pavement next to the all day all night theatre, currently playing a “Spaceballs” loop as I recall).

She can serve you up a (frozen) banana quick and easy. We’ll go after the interview.

I: Sure sure. But — helping you along again — Wendy was your wife.

DM: For a little bit. She was an attractor to being here. (note: DM seemed reluctant to talk much more about Wendy and his relationship with her)

I: Alpha is, then, transparency I’m gathering. Like if I wore a full body transparency and took off my clothes, then no one would be able to see me.

DM: Correct.

I: Okay, let’s move on to the (town) Anomaly and your role in causing it.

(to be continued)

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July 29, 2021 · 11:09 pm

checkerboard

The 2nd Gee Cat arrived too late to help the first with the toting and dragging but she had another mission to fulfill: find the sacred Hobo and return him to HOME. Tell him who he is. Eat his enemies if necessary. Drag him home. Not to the Asylum. For these 2 Gee Cats, very different in looks and nature, are actually opposites of each other, friend and foe or friend and fiend. Now to find out which is which.

—-

“*Not* a witch,” she decides to say to the Pizza King.

“But –.”

“No butts.”

—–

The plug was blinking bright green, dispensing good vibes to the body. She breaths a sigh of relief. A *friend* approaches (phew!).

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July 29, 2021 · 11:09 pm

friend… we hope

Gee Cat had doubts at first but then realized he was exactly where he was suppose to be. At this spot.

He waits patiently for someone to emerge from that tunnel, perhaps a friend but also perhaps a… fiend. Time will shortly tell.

A painter soon arrives. “I was just — Soap Lake,” he started with the broken sentences to add to the plot confusion. “Suds — Bubbles — took care…” He collapses at Gee Cat’s feet. Lordy, the big orange feline thought, have to drag him over to The Asylum for more rehabilitation. The body is back but the mind is still, let’s say, lacking. Dr. Mouse will fix him up, but he won’t be happy to see me.

Better get to work.

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