Tag Archives: Batty Man^*+++$

00430109

Fern and Lichen pull up to the Atrium building, determined to get to the bottom of some things.

“Is this 3633 Wheeler Rd.?” started Lichen with the easy stuff, softening them up for Fern’s blazing bazooka of a brain.

“Yes, can I help you?” spoke Don the receptionist, on the job since Thursday. He’d yet to acquire an eye for suspicious looking characters, which these 2 certainly were.

“We’re here to see Wayne Bruce or Bruce Wayne, whichever way he orders it. We’re here to ask some questions if you don’t mind,” continued Lichen.

“Yeah, *questions*,” took over Fern in a much tougher voice than cream puff Lichen’s. “Like… what happened to Robin?; why did he replace him with Superduper Guy for a sidekick?; why is Aqua Dude so jealous of Superduper?; did he want to be the sidekick instead?; and what of Antarctica? Penguin? Penguin and Joker both? Backrooms? And finally: Alberta? Is it Albert or Alberta? And what of that tea and the forgetting?; did Aqua Dude and his partner Bullfrog simply drive away after that, no deal formed between the lot of ’em?; why was this his ace in the hole? *That* kind of stuff.” Fern finally took a breath.

Don’s evasion training from 2 days ago kicked in at last. “I’m sorry, did you say 3633? This is 3643. You’re one down from where you should be.”

“Yeah, we’re not going to fall for that,” said Fern. “We’re just going to walk out that door, go looking for 3633 in the wrong location and then come back here all confused. Maybe you’ll say the reverse, then, that this was 3633 all along and you thought we said 3643. Most likely so. But by that time you would have cooked something up. Wayne Bruce or Bruce Wayne is doing business in New Zealand at the moment thank you very much. He’s in the building and we know it. Go *get* him. Or, heck, *else*.” She pulls a gold gun out of her gray capri pants pocket, trains it on his head. She wakes up.

—–

“Asylum is one up on the Black list from Atrium,” interpreted Fern later to Lichen over a breakfast of Toasty-O’s, new pepper and mint flavor, new shape of snakes and ladders respectively. “This is what we actually seek. Just like Snowden.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0109, Castle Town, Georgia, Google Street View, Omega^^

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.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0115, Back Rooms, C2077, Europe, Google Street View, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

00420112

“Come in, gentlemen. Welcome to The Truth.”

But then the man disappeared as they walked through the doors. Dead End.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0112, Google Street View

00420110

“Up here Superduper. I think we’ve found it.”

So The Penguin has set up a sinister Back Room location in Antarctica? Wouldn’t be the first.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0110, Back Rooms, Google Street View

how it began

Batty Man stared at Shakespeare staring at the phone whilst sidekick Superduper Guy read a book about squirrels in the distance. Bored out of his gourd, he decided to at least *pretend* something was happening. “Brrng brrng,” issued a noise from his mouth that was suppose to be the phone ringing. “Uh oh, better get that Shakey,” and he leaned over and picked up the red receiver.

“Antarctica!?” he yelled when the pretend person gave him imaginary information from the other side. “And maybe New Zealand ta boot!? WELLL. We better leap into action!” Shakespeare, who was only a head to begin with, flipped his lid with the news. A couple of button pressed in the resulting neck stump and the secret bookcase door slid open — ‘nother one.

“Tell me, Oh Batty One,” spoke Super over to his superior superhero boss before sliding down. “Is this mission really on the up and up or is this like all the other ones?”

“We’ll see!” and he went down first. Oh well, Superduper Guy consoled himself. At least it’s summer in New Zealand. If we can just make it through Antarctica.

“To the pole!” Batty Man cried, pointing forward after they hopped into the car, making Superduper Guy imagine he was sliding back up the pole behind him instead, back to the cozy fire and his interesting book. He’d just reached the chapter about flying squirrels when the “call” came in. Now he may never know how they pull it off. But he had his orders.

“Sure, whatever,” he answered the boss and started the mobile, letting it warm up a bit since the old thing was in desperate need of a tune up. And perhaps an engine overhaul. “Penguin this time I’m assuming!” he yell-guessed about the arch-villian they were dealing with over the roaring, sputtering engine.

“Maybe Penguin *and* Joker!” answered the boss. “They’re often in league with each other, being from the same New Jersey township!”

“So I’ve heard!” And with this they zoomed out of the Bat Cave and into the World of Man. Everyone within a 500 meter radius heard the noisy piece of junk leave. Like with any group of neighbors they’ve had down through the years, most were glad to see them go for a while. The arrogant pricks.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0109, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

00420107 (allies?)

He wouldn’t reach out to him if it weren’t desperate times. “I need your help, Cpt. Americus, with these two loud mouth *goof* balls I’m currently house sitting for. The manor should be mine — *will* be mine. Are you in, wannabe superhero? Or are you out?”

“Let me finish this bucket of grey matter chicken and I’ll be able to decide,” he requests, and takes another bite. Slow chews. Sloooww.

There, he can feel it working again. His brain.

“Count me in,” he said as the last bit of gristle disappeared into his mouth, also the last of the magically produced chicken. Oh look. A whole new batch of  pieces to consume when he looks down again. The Mann could be waiting a while. He’d forgotten about the bottomless bucket, an isolated superpower.

“Hold on, I suddenly forgot what we were talking about; remind me of the deal again?” he said as the munching and crunching began anew.

“Never mind Cpt.,” The Mann decided. “I’ll have to get back to you — another meeting, you see.” He didn’t plan to get back to him. This part of the search was to be closed up like an abandoned dangerous mine with its own bottomless pit.

—–

“Spaced Ghost,” he said to the next. “You’ve been with us since before the beginning, it seems. Surely *you* understand the power I desire. You can be there too. Sitting alongside me… and Parasol.” The Mann wasn’t quite sure how Spaced Ghost was young again, since his son Baker Bloch was nearing 67 years old now. Had to be 95-100. But here he is, shiny cape and shiny teeth and youthful physique. He didn’t question it, though. He was told he resided at the Shakespear’s Club in Centre County PA. Maybe the location was magical and gave him youth. He’d heard about such things associated with places named for The Bard. Like that ghost town near Lordsburg NM (revitalized in novel 39).

But when he teleported in to the proffered landmark, the only club he could find was the one slung over Young Spaced Ghost’s shoulder, as in a vintage Shakespear Gary Player Black Knight #2 Wood from the 1970s.

“I liked this place because they had a picture of me up on the wall there,” he started. “Don’t know when it was replaced by these collages or whatever they are.” He stared at one called “Doc’s Art”, wondering what it meant and the technique used.

“Yeah, sorry about that, Spaced Ghost. But about the deal…”

“Me and Zorak and Moltar — all 3 of us together. Boy I miss those days. Ghost Planet.” He sighs.

“So… about those nincompoops I’m dealing with,” directed The Mann again. “The Dynamic Du–”

“Regaltown: gone,” Spaced Ghost continued with the nostalgic lamenting. “Horns of Hatton: energy dissipated. We don’t have much left in Our Second Lyfe to cling on to. Might as well all pack up and head to the Red Dead Planet. Maybe we can make it into another Ghost Planet or something. We’ve already had several tries. I guess you’ve heard about them. Libra Neptune, the owner of the course I’m heading to after this. St. Dennis — son Scorpio Pluto told me all about it. Said they got there through a streetcar and he hadn’t heard back in a while. Said he’s ready to go over too once the portal’s stabilized; sell the golf course here and then recreate it over there in a better way.”

St. Dennis? The Mann thought. Portal? Suddenly he had more to mull over than revenge on some old, irritating neighbors. A whole new world was opening up.

(to be continued)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0107, Corsica, Instabar^, Jeogeot, Midlands, New Mexico, Pennsylvania, RDR2

00420105

They were preparing for battle, they were preparing for war. The Mann claimed to not be the same as Wayne Bruce who owned the manor but just an old neighbor doing a favor and house-sitting while he and and his “wonder boy” were away chasing arch-villians around the world, specifically Antarctica at the moment and possibly New Zealand. I checked back through the blog and saw that he indeed was a former neighbor over on the Corsica continent (Instabar sim). By the tone of his voice back then it didn’t seem he had much respect for the dynamic duo, this Batty Man and Superduper Guy. Old grudges tend to not alter that much over time.


March 03 2020: Batty Man and sidekick Superduper Guy arriving home in their noisy Battymobile while neighbor The Mann looks on disdainfully.

What else? Oh, the whole war/battle thing. Here’s some pics of the odd assortment of troops from a lower level of Redsland, closer to the ground for easier dispatchment when needed.

The conflict? Some call it the great Green-White War, others Green-Gray. No one knows exactly how or where or when it started but it extends over the entire known Universe by now in ever manifesting pockets here and there. Many are conscripted and don’t return home, either by death or by perpetual service. Martian Mabel’s big brother Little Big from photo-novel 02 was one of these. Mabel will never get over the loss, although she may put on a brave face nowadays. And here we come upon the legend of Plain Wayne, said to be killed in the war as well; slit in the throat by none other than our Wheeler back in her more evil days as directed by the powerful witch Mid-Hazel; event mentioned in photo-novel 03. Is Plain Wayne the same as mild mannered Wayne Bruce, alter ego for Batty Man? If so, why isn’t *he* dead? Mid-Hazel aka Hazel Wood would know if anyone. I’ll make a note to ask her later through some character or another; she now appears to be imprisoned somewhere in the innards of the manor with former formidable powers excised. More coincidence?

And here’s certainly another interesting twist. The Mann is actually Marsha “Pink” Krakow’s father as proven through the plot of photo-novel 19 where she’s 1st introduced. And now they interact again in the current photo-novel. Do either remember the other? Is The Mann, for example, so busy making sure the grounds are neat and tidy for Batty Man and partner Superduper Guy’s return that he doesn’t have time to recall who he really is? And it does indeed look super; Jack and Jill, however shady they are in other ways, are really skilled lawn care people.

And if The Mann is around that means Parasol his wife is too — I’d forgotten about that as well. His perfect Wo-mann, first rendezvousing with each other on the Fruity Islands back in photo-novel 12 and then properly tying the knot in photo-novel 24.


meeting in novel 12


marrying in novel 24

And here she is now, entering the manor room where The Mann is fingering through the first of Schubert’s 4 Impromptus in his own inept way, the only one he can play to any degree atall. He’d admit this ineptitude himself; would say Parasol is the true musician of the family. But then he might also thinks of drums — someone is talented with the sticks as well. Maybe he remembers Marsha during these moments, maybe it lies just beyond his consciousness still.

But Parasol certainly knows, also known as Red and, from the other side, Blue. She’s a bad speller and a wiz at the same in one.

“Where’s your *girl* today?” she tests once more.

“Girl *Friday*,” he responds defensively from the piano, inept fingering temporarily halted. “I hired her as a secretary; I have no interest in her otherwise.”

Still doesn’t remember, Parasol understands through this. She can keep her edge for now.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0105, Fruity Islands^^, Maebaleia/Satori, Redsland

00410109

“Sure is pretty here, um, June.”

June? Jane thought. But she wasn’t the first to call her that. “Jane,” she corrected mildly.

“Oh right. Sorry. Anyway, I guess the tractor didn’t make it down to this beach. I looked in the surrounding woods and even under the water. Remotely of course.”

“I’ve been standing here for quite a while and I haven’t see anything,” trying-to-be-helpful Jane said to her fellow villager, also a big fan of the band she and her sister Rachel were in. Now where is her accordion playing sibling anyway? Rehearsal is in 2 hours. She better text Reuben and Steuben to remind them as well.

So that’s 2 sisters in the band Batcorn, and also 2 brothers, but the sisters and brothers are unrelated to each other. So this is sorta like 70s pop supergroup ABBA and sorta not. But they wanted to be big still, ABBA big. They had their sights set on so much more than Amiable, despite their wild popularity in the village among young and old alike. Heck, even tone deaf Andrew “Biff” Carter attended their last gig, dragging along Wally with him, saying it would be good for the boy to get away from the farmhouse and listen to what *other* people liked. Poor, punk obsessed Wally, Jane often thought. He’ll never understand the beauty of actual, roots based songs.

She was the one who came up with the name Batcorn, a combo of the village’s obsession with corn and her favorite superhero Batman from Gotham City. Actually, she preferred villains like Joker and Penguin in the mythology but didn’t relay this to anyone except those closest to her. Rachel knew of course. And Reuben and Steuben. And one other yet to be determined. A boyfriend perhaps.

(to be continued)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0109, Teepot^^

last

I sat about as far away from the attention mongering super duper heroes as I could. Swooping in here and taking over the basically dormant University of the District of Columbia property and renaming it DC Universe, hrmph. The audacity! Newly crowned neighborhood watch queen Mary Peppins, red umbrella-less for a change, is making some good points though.

“We must be vigilant for interlopers into our special, special sim,” she goes on, “now that they’ve discovered The Diagonal runs through it. Mr. Mann?” She points up to me. “Would you like to say a word on that? Since, eheh, you know, The Diagonal runs right through the center of your building. You, aherm, predicted its coming after all.”

I started to say, “well it runs through the middle of *your* property too; why don’t *you* talk about it?” But I acquiesced. “It’s all about The Man,” I said simply. “The Man (upstairs) is in the center of the sim that is on The Diagonal. My *nickname* comes from The Man. (My name’s) actually Larch. The Larch.” So — The Man; The Larch.” Made sense to me.

“Ahem, thank you Mr. Mann, er, Mr. Larch.”

“Whatever, honey,” urged husband Achilles T. from the side, nose still as big as ever. “Get to the part about the tiny orange house with the swing.”

“Yes, uhem.” Mary was obviously nervous about talking in public, being a simple housewife and all and without any experience in that area. But the neighborhood needed her, and former president Elaine Ratio was nowhere to be found. “Well…”

Just then, littlest vampire Buster Damm screeched up in an old pink convertible, surfing on its hood. “I believe you’re referring to *our* house!” he called through the hole behind The Mann.

He promptly went over the the DC Universe jail and freed Lego Monster Ken who killed everyone inside, RAWR!

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0318, Corsica, Instabar^

more neighbors

“The Man had many centres he could manifest out of his inventory, but, legend says, when he found wo-Man he stopped the process and threw up his arms in glee. Thus Eve from Eden is born and Adam, The Man incarnate, called it D-vine.”

Larch (later: The Man himself) halted his creation story spun atop his spinning cube to look down at Superduper Guy and Batty Man’s “backfire-mobile” (his word for it) pull up next door.

“Pow POP!” it went when stopping, and Larch imagined small cartoon clouds with these words emitted from a smoking muffler. Nightshift worker Mrs. Dumbledwarf to the south became even more awake when the two super heroes slammed their car doors, then spotted Larch on his rooftop workshop and threw up their arms in greeting, calling “What up, *Man*!?” in unison before heading into their mansion, not waiting for a response. Because it never came.

Larch hated those two.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0315, Corsica, Instabar^