Tag Archives: Baker Blinker^^++@

Waits

“Ahh, I must admit it’s good to be back Baker Bloch. Collagesity North has been reborn. A lot of characters have or will be returning. But there’s still the matter of Tronesisia and Bendy. I can’t wait to meet her. Hasn’t she been in Collagesity before, though? The name rings a bell.”

“No,” answers the male Baker with a lie. He wants to erase the robot’s seedier origins in Collagesity and other towns like Bennington. “She’s worked for Pitch and Buster for a long time.”

“More new faces. But: exiled vampires from VHC City? I thought that city was supposed to be sort of a mother to Collagesity, kind of like Chilbo.” Baker Blinker pauses and puts her finger to chin. “But I guess Chilbo didn’t work out either as a whole. We’ve been there 3 months and our story hasn’t even begun. Karoz got tired of waiting — said he needed to return to his Temple of TILE, his school, his rocket. Most immediately, his rocket.”

“Yes, we need to get Tronesisia and maybe Mary up to Muff-Bermingham asap, whenever she shows up.”

“Which should be soon,” Baker Blinker adds.

“Yes.” They both look up the road into Collagesity North but nothing appears.

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here and there

“So you’ve decided to play the role of Clare Nova, Wheeler. Third Nova sister.”

“Third *found*,” she said. She takes another sip of her Cabernet Sauvignon wine. “Somewhere in this store is the appropriate avatar. A step up from (Summerhill) and (Golden Bee-ing), true. Something with a little more meat and flesh. Maybe the ancient alien.”

“Study up more on the real Clare Nova,” Baker Bloch suggested. “Find out additional stuff about her land and its relationship with The Diagonal. We’ve already discovered that obelisk tucked in the southwest corner of Hooktip right on the line…

… and then an accompanying leaf screen in *Leaf*roller to the immediate south.

Synchy stuff still going on.”

“And the multiple rose pictures The Musician found in Sister galleries,” reinforced Wheeler. “In his dreams.” She turned toward her Musician, now fully awake and tinkling the ivories of a nearby piano. The tune for the day: David Bowie’s “Alladin Sane.” Third take was the charm.

“Where’s Baker Blinker?” Wheeler suddenly asked.

“You know where they are,” Baker Bloch responded.

“Oh yeah. Chilbo.”

—–

“Where’s Wheeler?” Karoz suddenly asked.

“You know where they are,” Baker Blinker responded.

“Oh… yeah.”

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Precious

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Holding back, Urch found Precious Snowflake upstairs sitting in front of the mission’s computer console. She was unsure of her feelings about the small, beautiful blue fairy lady. Urch had known for quite some time that she preferred girls over boys, and initially she certainly had a crush on Precious that wouldn’t stop. But now this had started to change or morph. A dream being had come into her life.

“I know you’re over there, Urch. Your stomach!”

Urch laughed about her tummy rumblings. Hard to tell when they’re coming from inside you if others can hear them. Now she knows.

“And about the dreams — you’ll be happy to learn that some of them are already recorded, as I’m reading now. (But) the girl you took into the woods is looking for you in the wrong place. I see an island lit, or I should say, *un*lit by a new moon. Darkness all around. The girl is in darkness.” She turns toward Urch; such a beautiful face, she thinks. “You must find her or all is lost.”

“I *want* to,” speaks Urch. “But how?”

Precious was frank. “Do you still love me?”

“Of course,” states Urch.

“But not in that way any longer,”

“I don’t know,” says Urch. “We haven’t done anything to, um, consumate it.”

“You know I am untouchable,” replies Precious Snowflake. “If you need pleasure in that manner there’s always Tronesisia. She was built for all that.”

“Not interested again,” replies Urch, having heard this suggestion quite a number of times now from various camp members.

“Do you know who I am? Who I *really* am?” She turned toward Urch.

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“You are Precious Snowflake,” Urch says routinely. “You are yet another refuge in our camp, having come here after the great war that saw Bennington and Ob-blong combine forces against Fairywold.”

“Yes, I am that. I want to show you something. Have you seen my bones?” She shows Urch her “bones.”

“Quite a number of times,” Urch replied. “Still not sure what it means.”

“And my skeleton?” Her figure then alters even more into blue abstraction.

“Several times, yes,” Urch states.

“And how about *this*?”

Pink had switched with blue. It was a new development to Urch. “No,” she replies. “I haven’t seen you change even more beyond the bones and skeleton. Who are you?”

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“Guess.”

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3 to 2 to 1?

Baker Blinker and Baker Bloch were alone now, sitting one table down in the Blue Feather. After her spiel, Hucka Doobie muttered something about heading over to Yeodeol to check on that letter making workshop she first visited almost 7 years ago. By inference, much was learned through the bee being’s One Pink story concerning Mid Hazel’s much more recently affected curse at New Island, and why the Spookmobile is both back in Collagesity and over there still at once. Dimensions remain split. The Bakers’ had a trick up their collective sleeve, however.

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The Core

Baker Bloch walks back into his Collagesity from the front gate of Old Mabel’s Clarity home (new name!) and pauses to admire its complex collage of structures.

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Ballerina returned to her rightful place beside Boos, check.

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A new being in town. “Welcome stranger.” No answer.

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Marv Taylorson never opened that garage of his here, thought Baker Bloch while passing. But Allen Martin’s got a much better setup over in Collagesity North now. He reminds himself that he’ll have to pick up the Spookmobile tomorrow. 5000 lindens for repairs! Well, that blows most of the money Baker Blinker made on the recent land sale over there, pheh.

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Into the private Blue Feather he goes to catch up with the town’s core constituents, meaning Baker Blinker, Hucka Doobie, and himself essentially. And also share news about Wheeler and Karoz Blogger over there on New Island. Karoz is returning for real this time! But alas — no, he shouldn’t think that. But Wheeler is coming back as well. The “Bill”, ugh.

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——

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“Thanks for sitting down here for a change,” said Baker after they had arranged themselves around a table on the bottom floor of the Blue Feather. “I’ll take one of the seats looking away from the forest since you two were so agreeable. But isn’t it beautiful?” He glances at the forest over his shoulder before unrendering the trees and grass to decrease lag. “I missed it, even in the short time I was away.”

“So explain, Baker Bloch,” opens Hucka Doobie. “You said you had something to tell us about Old Mabel.”

“First off,” says the male Baker, “we need to discuss a little bit about *time*. Remember the last Table meeting?”

“Sure,” states Hucka Doobie. “You were there.”

“No, I really wasn’t. That was Wilson. Old Mabel picked up on it. But here’s the thing — it doesn’t matter any longer who is who with what avatar. Not overall. I’ll show you.”

Baker Bloch turns into Old Mabel before Baker Blinker and Hucka Doobie’s very eyes, shocking them.

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“How?” is all Hucka Doobie could manage with dropped jaw.

“Well… Baker Blinker, check your outfits. You can do it too now. You see, our user had to first give me the power to also become Old Mabel because I had all the stuff. In any one *scene*, let’s say, it’s easier if one of the characters is me. Even if it isn’t me per se. So sometimes when I play Old Mabel, and I’ve been doing it frequently lately, then Wheeler becomes not *Wilson* but Baker Bloch — sometimes — to back me up. Of course Wheeler could also have the power to become Old Mabel. But we don’t like doing that to her.”

“Why not?” asks Hucka Doobie. She checked his outfits as well — no Old Mabel so far. Just her present form and the old bee outfit, her original Second Lyfe avatar.

“I can answer that question,” Hucka,” speaks up Baker Blinker. “It’s because Wheeler is different from everyone else here in town. I *use* to be her. We’re — what would you call it Baker Bloch? Complex.”

“It’s a definition we need to start thinking about, yes,” agrees Baker Bloch. “We’ve *all* changed a little. I’ve dropped the (Space Ghost) mask. Hucka Doobie, you’ve moved away from your Bee purity. But nothing like Baker Blinker has been through. And now: Wheeler. So we don’t like to tinker with what Wheeler is. That’s why she’s The Bill. That’s why she technically still runs the town. Baker Blinker knows all about this.”

“My time in the complex world is over. I’ve returned to basics, the simple. I’ve returned to what you guys are. I’ve had my walk on the dark side. I’ve stared through eyes of darkness. I passed that onto Wheeler, however, and I’m glad of it. I feel free.”

“You see, Hucka Doobie,” Baker Bloch says. “Baker Blinker needed to talk about this. Go ahead, Other Baker. You have the power now. Change into Old Mabel as well. The world won’t end because there’ll be two of her. Go ahead and show Hucka Doobie our user power.”

Baker Blinker decided on a different tactic, just to fool around with Baker Bloch.

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“Oh right,” he says. “I forgot about 3d Karl. You’ve been through this. And that was during the days of your dark passage. Very brave of you. Very brave indeed.”

“Let’s see if I can smile,” Baker Blinker says. She tries and fails. “Nope. It’s an old avatar, no longer available on the Second Lyfe marketplace. And the avatar is non-transferrable. So I’m essentially — most likely — the last Karl of my kind.”

“I had no idea about all this,” proclaims Hucka Doobie. “No idea atall. You’ll have to make a diagram to help me understand. You see, I’m still just a simple bee underneath at all. And I’m not inworld much. But I *do* remember one time I was here.” Hucka Doobie’s eyes slant knowingly behind her sunglasses. “See, I understand stuff you guys don’t. Baker Bloch, if you would insert a photo in your blog later on and I’ll tell the story now. The story of how I became One Pink.

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The right way

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“It’s time we do something with this TILE Temple,” states Baker Blinker to the always awake Carrcassonnee.

2 minutes and 43 second later: “Yes.”

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—–

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“How come you never removed the collages from SoSo South?” asks Hucka Doobie about 15 minutes into their rendezvous later in the evening. “I thought they were causing too much lag.”

Baker Blinker came up with an excuse. “I think the appearance of Jerome T. Newton changed all that. Him and Keat Owens.” She peered through the opening to her right. “Speaking of whom, where is he with our clean cups he promised. Coffee’s getting cold.”

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“And Steve over there” begins Hucka Doobie again, looking north now. “He’s only a dream being. But we’re not asleep. So that’s a continuity error.”

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Baker Blinker blows out air. “I can’t do *everything* in this town. I don’t have enough power. I can control Collagesity North well enough but not here.

Hucka Doobie and Baker Blinker become silent for a moment. Both think of Baker Bloch and Old Mabel on New Island along with Wheeler and Karoz. Baker Bloch is the custodian for this part of town, the main part. He’s the one who cleans up all the creative clutter here from the night before. Like Steve.

But suddenly, Steve the giant red robot wasn’t holding the sideways and backwards ballerina any longer. Urch had reappeared!

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The robot went away. The ballerina returned to her rightful position on the ground directly below.

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Things were moving forward again…

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Martins

Hucka Doobie threw Baker Blinker a party at Perch in celebration of her recent land sale, a 3856 parcel in the northeast part of Minoa. Now I feel Collagesity is how it should be size-wise, with Blinks’ land costs reduced down to the next tier. I anticipate no more additions or subtractions to the town. It’s great as is.

Afterwards, Baker Blinker decided to go over and talk to new Collagesity renter Allen Martin to see how the move went. You see, Martin had *just* set up his gas station and backing house on the 3856 when the sale went through. The Bakers kindly offered to immediately move the still empty World of Collage building next door to make room there for his structures. Baker Blinker met Martin’s son Doogie in the garage. She was surprised to see Baker Bloch’s Spookmobile being worked on within.

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“Hi, I’m Baker Blinker.”

“Nice to meet you,” Doogie said. “Are you here for the car? Because we need to talk about some costs.”

“No, that’s Baker Bloch’s car. The other Baker. You know who I am, don’t you?”

“You’re the owner.”

“Of the land, not the car. That’s the other Baker. But I thought he took it on his trip with him, hmm.” She scans the car, verifying as far as she could ascertain that this is indeed Baker’s Spookmobile. “He owns the middle and south parts of the town,” she continues. “I own this part, the northern part. But not the car, see. That’s still Baker Bloch’s.”

“Well, I still need to talk to someone about this car,” Doogie said, thinking that this dame sure is chatty.

“Your father around, um… what’s your name again?” Baker Blinker felt it somewhat rude that he didn’t introduce himself properly but just kept going on about that car. That blame car.

“Douglas. But call me Doogie. Like Doogie Houser the tv star.”

“Well, nice to meet you again Doogie.”

“Likewise. So about the car…” Doogie, a born mechanic, couldn’t help himself. He goes on to explain that the whole exhaust system needs to be replaced. He said that it looked like the car had been sitting on the bottom of some ocean for years, a joke that hit the target dead center.

“Well, actually…”

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Allen Martin then walked up from behind Baker Blinker. She caught him winking at his son. “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here at this old, dingy garage.”

“I’m Baker Blinker,” she explained again. “The owner… of the land, not the car. We spoke on the phone last night. We moved a whole building next to yours this morning.”

“Oh, right right,” he said. “The *boss*. Well, I do appreciate it, I really do. We — Doogie and I — have been moving around quite a lot lately. It would be nice to settle down somewhere on the mainland and establish a clientele. Last place was up in Bennington. Let’s see, it was last Tuesday — right Doogie? — when the gangsters came and shot all the windows out. And then there were the fires, the floods, the tornados. No, Bennington was not a place to set up shop. A wild wild town. So we’re glad we’re here. Aren’t we Doogie?”

“I suppose so father.” He was still looking over the car. “And the headlights don’t work. Horn neither. Spark plugs and wires need replacing. Distributor obviously. You can’t put this car back on the highway without a lot of repairs.”

Allen Martin approaches the back of the car and bends down. “I thought I saw something wiggling around in that tailpipe, hmm.” Inspecting it and seeing nothing now, he rubs his peepers with his fingers. “Ehh, it’s been a long day. Just a trick of the eyes, I’m sure.”

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It wasn’t. The banded grey sea serpent waited until nightfall to crawl out of the rusting exhaust system where he’d been living for years and make his introductions. Allen Martin was still sitting at his desk on the top floor of that backing building, where, about a half hour before, he enjoyed a beautiful sunset over Robin Lane while thinking to himself that this is a place he could maybe stay a spell.

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Allen Martin was asleep, feet on desk, by the time his son Doogie yelped upon finding the serpent on the floor next to him while underneath the tv, trying to jerry-rig a free cable connection.

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“Nothing but static, phew hew!” slurped the snake loudly. “I’m Aspinwall by the way, like an asp in a wall. And I’m about to have babies!”

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Rubis and Sylver

“We have to lend all our resources to Old Mabel. She’s on to something. A definite trail through the wilderness.”

“Strange that Chesterton the Librarian would skateboard into her and blow her up,” Baker Blinker responded, referring to very disturbing and lucid dream Old Mabel had the previous night.”

“Maybe she was just trying to wake herself up… so she could remember more of the dream’s details. But she was quite rattled. I reinforce: she thought it was real within the dream. She thought she actually died. She felt her soul depart from her body. She floated up up up. Back to Mars. Little was there. He was dead as well.”

“Awful. And your other theory — about Little contacting Old Mabel through Jiff?”

“Well — before he departed through the woods portal with Brenda — you know, the giant female warrior, and, some say, his lover — Jiff insinuated to Old Mabel that he is a probable Little trapped in a different body.”

“Say that again?” Baker Blinker requested.

“I said, Jiff stated to Old Mabel on the day of his departure that he was her brother Little Big trapped in a different body. Not quite reincarnation, he emphasized, but related to it. All that he knew was that he was Little, another warrior but from a different era.”

“He could be delusional,” a realistic Baker Blinker proclaims.

“Possibly. But Old Mabel is leaning toward believing him. Jiff said he would return in several weeks, which would be considerably longer for him and Brenda in their timeline. They too have a battle to fight, but he wouldn’t give specifics. He hinted around that Rubi demons were involved again. And the Sylver Forest.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

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most likely probably still

9:30 pm.

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“The usual please, Furry Karl.”

“Coming right up, Baker Bloch.” Karl reaches into the cooler behind him a pulls out a tall can of Krings, popping it open and positioning it on the counter. Baker partakes.

“Ahh, good beer after a long hard day of work, eh Karl?”

“I suppose. I don’t drink myself.”

“Oh right,” says the male Baker. “The farming incident.”

“And the prostitutes. And killing that guy over in Bennington… besides all the other stuff done there.”

“Well, that’s all red liquid under the bridge for you Furry Karl. Clean sweep in this here Collagesity. New beginnings. Here’s to new beginnings.” He raises his beer.

“I can’t toast with you, but I’ll second that anyway. Listen, um, Baker. I can’t really talk much tonight. As you can see (Furry Karl looks around), the bar’s pretty busy.”

“I noticed that. Demon Days.”

“Yup. Gates of hell opened wide this weekend.”

Baker Bloch also looks around. “None in here at the moment I can spot, though.”

“Oh, they’ve been here. The mall’s been invested with them. Especially the Santas. I’ve counted at least 3. So… enjoy yourself here. Drinking alone tonight?” Furry Karl tacks on.

“No. Old Mabel will be joining me. We’re going to talk about her new living quarters — Spongebub’s former home.”

“Good, good.” A bald headed demon enters the bar and sits down at the last stool; starts to play computer cards as both Furry Karl and Baker try not to stare. “Okay, gotta run,” Karl says, moving toward him.

—–

11:15 pm.

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“I’m sorry once more I’m so late, Mr. Bloch. It’s just that Unch was there (!). I could see him finally. And from that perch on the southwest corner.”

“Next to Perch, yeah you told me.”

“Sorry.” Old Mabel realized that she was repeating herself in the excitement. “I dare not fully approach him yet. It is a him, correct?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Baker responds. “I’m not sure he’s — or she’s — anything. Like the typical plant, I suppose. Minus ferns?”

“Mosses, maybe,” Old Mabel offers. “I’m still getting familiar with terra firma flora and fauna.”

“Right. You should have been here earlier, Old Mabel. Place was jumping. I think Furry Karl will be alright in this new location. It’s just so… in the middle of things.”

“Malls are special places,” agreed Old Mabel, taking a sip of her lemonade. “Well lighted. You can accidentally bump into your friends and neighbors without having to telephone them up.”

“Good point,” agrees Baker. “You get the social niceties out of the way without a social commitment.”

“I’m learning your ways.” Old Mabel smiles at him, studying his rugged orange face and dead white eyes. Yes, he’s still most likely the one, she thinks. Despite demon Jiff offering to change over his body to a larger and greener variety. Despite Snowbob and the day before yesterday. In the closet.

—–

1:00 am.

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“You’re so strange, having to sit with your back to the wall if anyone else is in a room with you.”

“One demon left around,” Baker Bloch whispers to Baker Blinker. “And it has to be here.” The small cyan demon squeaks in return — good ears on this one.

“Good that Old Mabel is getting adjusted. Maybe now she can get over this dislike of Wheeler, since she’s getting over, well, *you*.”

“I don’t think she likes Wheeler impersonating me at times,” Bloch agrees.

Baker Blinker sighs. “So where does that put *us*?”

“Same ol’ same ol'” the male Bake responds. “We are the parents of all that’s around us.” He waves his arm.

“I don’t think Karoz is coming back,” Baker Blinker says, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Oh sure he is,” Baker Bloch attempts to comfort. “Wheeler’s probably sent him off on some crazy assignment to retrieve an ancient diary again.”

“She’s still looking for Number One, yes,” a sniffing Baker Blinker agrees, taking a sip of coffee with a shaky hand. “Muff-Bermingham was a bust. Plus the war started while we were there. Greens versus Grays. The one Little is involved in. A shame Old Mabel hasn’t heard a thing from him since he left.”

“Hasn’t she?” The male Baker eyes the female Baker knowingly.

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Paper.

It was night again. Jerome’s time. Seats were still cold and warm. Icy fire.

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“Let’s take you somewhere and put you to work, Mr. Author — Mr. Detective. How about Perch, hmm? Wait… that’s currently closed for ceiling repairs. Blue Feather it is!”

—–

(meal joined in progess)

“I can’t eat another single shrimp, Baker Bloch, despite it being on the house. I wonder if our waiter would enjoy taking it home with him. Oh, this must be the chef.”

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“I’m so sorry about the paper in your wine,” he began, hands wringing. “I hope you are enjoying the free extra food and drink. Anything else we can get you here at the Blue Feather? Anything at all.”

Baker Blinker looked him over from head to foot, noticing a small red stain on the right pocket of his rather rumpled coat. “We’re fine, Mr. — what’s your name again? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“I’m new,” he replied. “I’m Mr. Owens. Amateur chef by day, professional sleuth by night. Here’s my business card.” He reached into his right pocket, hesitated and perhaps turned slightly red (?), then switched hands to procure the promised paper from the left.

“Cool,” responded Baker Blinker, taking the card. “Interesting first name.”

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“It’s Irish. Call me Kenny. I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your dinner. Your waiter Andrew will return in just a moment to check on you. Have a nice remainder of the evening.”

“Thank you,” said Baker Blinker, nodding at him.

“Yes, thanks,” added Baker Bloch.

—–

15 minutes later…

“Did you make the switch?” asked a fidgety Newton back in Collagesity North again.

“Yeah,” responded the declared chef/detective. “Can I go home now?”

“Not quite.”

A cow suddenly burst into flames across Robin Lane.

(to be continued)

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