“Well, that was interesting (*burp*). Any more editions of this magazine, Librarian Bean?”
—–
“We call her Gassy.”
“You mean Grassy,” the male Baker responded to the female Baker, who just rode into town. Collagesitytown.
“No. Gassy is different. Tillie I think her actual name is. *That’s* the one I want to play. That’s the one I want to start with. If Karl isn’t available.”
“Lemme check.” Baker Bloch opens the Big Book of Avatars in front of him. “I have perhaps as much as 50 percent assigned to myself.”
“Of course.”
“And Wheeler has another big chunk. Perhaps 25 percent.”
“Yep.”
He keeps flipping. “That leaves 25 percent to divide up with the rest of the, let’s see, 8 remaining core avatars.”
Baker Blinker counts them off on her 10 fingers. “You, me, Hucka, Karoz, Tropp, Wheeler — or Treelor I suppose, Grassy — *not* Gassy again (smile), then Spongeberg the Destroyer, then Roger Pine Ridge, then, let’s see, Lockfry. How many is that?”
“Counting them in my head now (pause): that’s it (!)” He gently shuts the dusty tome, looks out at the Rubi Woods, then back. “Well, just think about it. I’m so happy you and Karoz have found a way to work yourselves back into the ever evolving Collagesity storylines.” He looks her over; notes the differences from before. “Partial assimilation, eh?”
Baker Blinker nods. “It is. We may yet be able to return Collagesity to its glorious past — defeat Wheeler at her own game.”
“Wrestling?”
“Maybe even tennis.”
“Polo.”
“Marco.”
Sunklands 