“Say it.”
“I know who you are. I know who is behind Billfork. It’s the oranges…”
“Say it.”
—–
“Alright what do you want me to do tonight, baker?”
“I’m not sure. We need to get you married up with your sister Elberta before the end of this here Collagesity photo-novel, number 22 in a series of 20.”
“Oranges, then?”
—–
“Oranges, then?”
“You’re insistent. On oranges.”
“Oranges, then?”
—–
“Did you like my trick with the oranges? Wasn’t that clever?”
“The Billfork Core. I’m saying that more for the reader.”
“You mean Veyo?”
“No. I have other readers.”
“Who? [delete one sentence]”
“Yeah I know. The country is *so* divided. And the debate last night… I have lost hope, Toothpick, er, Filbert.”
“I would rather you call me Toothpick. I put one in my mouth (he takes the straw out of his mouth and reinserts it), and then I become invisible. That’s the meaning of Berry at the beginning of this here photo-novel, 22 in a series of 20. Matt Berry, who did the same for ‘What’s Creeping Out The Car.'”
“I’m going to correct you on that, Toothpick. It’s…”
“Say it.”
“‘Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.'”
“Say it for real.”
“‘What They Do In the Shadows.'”
“Master Berry… Matt Berry. What else have I done, hmm? The Billfork Core, obviously. Then coded it into your precious maps.”
“Tough guy, eh?”
“Then, let’s see, Goss… he’s the religious fellow who was both an ally and axis. Different things at different times. He should have paid more attention to Billfork according to you.”
“According to *you*. Apparently.”
“Correct. Because I worked hard on that. Do you know how hard it is to create a proper audiovisual synchronicity? You only collage together the already finished pieces. It’s *tough*. Try doing that from the other side of the veil.”
—–
“And Matt Berry is a master in that show. If he had a living familiar, which he might.”
“Where is Mad Anthony? Is he in Winesap?” Toothpick reinserts himself.
—–
I have him fly over to the canal for obvious reasons. Set him down on the box of Budweisers. We’ll probably see that later in a different location now. I face him.
“Well you look just terrible. Is this how you see yourself?”
“Well I h’ain’t got two front teeth. Do I.”
“Knocked out in the war?” He stops talking to me. I realize war is like a football game. Monkees.
—–
“I’m curious, Toothpick. You handed the reigns over to The Residents at some point. You, heck, you probably created the eyeball guys, or the resonance.”
“Loco,” he answered simply.
“But then you came back strong in Uncle Meatwad.”
“As you have surmised, Zapppa helped.” Just then, Zapppa passes by in a canal boat but is unable to wave hello.
—–
“Bowie, too.”
“Bowie.” But Toothpick knew that was more in the future. Nick Danger, Dead Cat Island, Lynch. Jeffrie Phillips. Philadelphia.
Mahler.
Sunklands 