“Yeah, you’re right Bendy. That *is* wrong. But what does it mean?”
“Something’s tampering with something, that’s what it means. I can feel it deep down in my metal bones.”
“2 realities combined into one?” Fisher offers. “Someone’s pissing on us?” he tries again, looking down at the red spill.
Bendy couldn’t help it. “What a mess,” he exclaims to the camera.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0112, Wallytown/Fishers Island^
Young Ruby looked far and wide for her missing friend Shirley Boot, starting with Yd Bay on the far side of New Island, hoping to hell she didn’t find another bobbing head there like she did before with Trashy the Clown’s (she didn’t).
Another place to visit was Faux Aunt Annie and Karl’s Gloomy Gus on the west coast. Now the last couple of times we checked in — well, actually throughout this *whole* novel, looking back — it seems that Annie was in a heap of trouble with all these pills and incessant dancing and, um, the other thing. And she was! But the death of Trashy the Clown, although extremely difficult to get over at first, was a blessing in disguise. She cleaned up, with aid from loving beau Karl — locked up in the Gloomy Gus for going on two weeks. She emerged exhausted and dehydrated and still a little nauseous, but ready to move forward into the future without drugs and the other, attached things. Karl was her focus now, her beacon of light. So we have a happy ending to that part of our story, and an important one it is. But no luck for Ruby this day — no sign of Shirley there.
Mrs. Fogg and Ms. Frame, now moved in together for mutual protection, food, and liberty, hadn’t seen her either. That basically took care of the whole northwest section of the island, so active these two women were with their sailing and beach running and frequent picnics to the top of Mt. Sondra where they had a commanding view of that part of New Island.
Blue Jay Wade was dead, and his former chum turned complete psychopath Big Red Butler remained incarcerated at the Gaston-Berry jail, at least for this week. But neighbor Zettie Lamont the zebra-ass, similar to Fogg and Frame, had a pretty good view of the lower western part of the island from his perch atop Pimushe Isle. He relayed to the disappointed Ruby that he hadn’t seen the young girl either.
How about one of the houseboats or yachts at the Diamond Sailing Club? Possibility, but since Lisa the Vegetarian Smipson left for Corsica, she has no contacts there.
No one lived at Artist Point in the southeast section of the island. The east was dominated by Mid Hazel’s compound of buildings. Ruby felt that if Shirley had somehow gotten stuck over there she was doomed anyway. Lost to a powerful witch.
Which left center: Mabel’s house (Mabel and roommates Fisher and Bendy had seen nothing), Eraserhead Man and his Rabbit Hole house (nada again), and Robot Derak Jones (who said, check with Eraserhead Man, which she’d just done). Hmm, she thought, standing in the middle of central Route 9 dividing the island almost cleanly in two. She looked down at the buildings: Elephant Club, Axis’ Castle, Flossie’s, a new place beside Bumpy’s Ice Cream Village. “*Wait*,” she suddenly exclaimed. “The Village! I could ask Lavern Glam. She has eyes everywhere.”
So we head back to the ice cream truck, the sole component of this so-called village. Use to be bigger in the day, as they say. But Mr. Glam sold part of his original land to the Elephant Club, who turned it into their western parking lot, and then part to Oranga Black who built the Arcade in back. He downsized from a double wide trailer with indoor seating to the small truck we’ve already seen in that last post, whose cab also doubled as his daughter’s bedroom for a while. She didn’t mind: she felt she remained in the center of it all that way.
Ruby approached the truck. “You’re not Lavern Glam.”
“Yet *you* remain oh-so-red Ruby Roo,” spoke the alien behind the counter. “Exactly 15 1/2 today, this minute, this, um, second actually. Your anti-birthday.”
The island blew up around them. To those on the outside, those who survived, they describe the sound it made as close if not the same as middle C on a piano. Queer, huh? Too queer? We’ll see…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0615, New Island^
Shirley Boot approached the ice cream truck cautiously. “You’re not Lavern,” she says while walking up.
“And you’re not Shirley.” Shirley Boot looks down.
—–
Dr. Ice Cream, as the many eyed being is calling herself now, serves Bendy a triple dip chocolate twirl. “So, there you go (!)”
Bendy gently but firmly grasps the loaded down cone with his metal claw and begins to gobble up. Soon he’ll have an ice cream headache, but that’s a worry for later. Cool, delicious triple dip twirl for now! Yum yum yum, nom nom nom.
“Heard you had quite the scare the other night,” the doctor says conversationally. “Thought Fisher ran off with a younger man on ya.”
“Woman, actually,” he manages between gobbles. “Yellow.”
Dr. I.C. stares at Bendy. “Racist?” she questions about him aloud.
“No… Lisa?” Dr. I.C. continues to stare, as if she can see his insides. Bendy then realizes she’s talking about him. “No, no, no,” he defends between nom nom noms. “*Actual* color. Cartoon color. And she’s got a missing yellow brother that I know on good word is still here… on the island. Just invisible to the eye unless you know *exactly* where to look.”
“Then he’s a butthole, an anus,” Dr. I.C. declares, thinking of the planet Uranus.
“He does have the degenerative male Smipsons gene,” Bendy offers, trying to excuse Bartholomew’s natural bastardliness a bit. Another delicious gob of triple dip slides down his gullet.
“Oh I think he has a choice,” counters Dr. I.C, wiping down the counter. “I see a lot. I know the ins and outs of people around here… people everywhere. He’s invisible because he’s a menace to societal law. Refuge. As bad as Big Red Butler if you ask me. Go ahead… ask me.”
Bendy takes 2 quick licks and does what Dr. I.C. requests. “Um, *is* he as bad as, er, Big Red Butler?”
“Yes. Now ask me something else. I have the answers to most everything if you pries around my corners.” Oh look, she then thought evily. What’s that just around the corner of my truck? Beyond the kiln mysteriously placed just in the way.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0614, New Island^
—–
Bendy was showing off again for the Tronesisia statue at Artist Point Interactive in the middle of the night when he thought to check Adelaide’s “Fractured Violin” painting to see if it was whole yet.
“Nuts and bolts!” he cussed upon seeing the picture totally missing from the wall instead. “Either Fisher completely succeeded with Lisa’s request,” he rationalized out loud, “Or completely failed!” Either one could be bad news for him.
Bendy quickly returned to the top floor of Mabel’s Scarlet Creative Sylvia House where Fisher and he lived together…
… or formerly lived together, it seemed. Fisher’s stuff, including his rocking horse, his kitchen appliances, were gone!
Corsica, Bendy then thought, remembering Lisa and Fisher had been talking about it recently. Laverne Glam over at Bumpy’s Ice Cream Village might know what’s going on. She knows everything there is to know about that continent — between her and her father. At least the phone is mine; I’ll give her a ring.
“Hello, Lavern?” Twittering from the receiver. “No, I don’t want to preorder the usual triple dip — right now anyway. I have something to ask you: Have you seen Fisher?” More twittering. “Yeah, the orange guy… who’s dating the yellow girl.” While Lavern gabs more on the other end, Bendy happens to look to his left.
“Um, never mind Lavern. I’ll see you in a little bit for that ice cream, okay?” He hangs up, stares at the completed “Fractured Violin” hidden by a wall jut from the teleporter. Fisher enters the room.
“Miss me?”
Fisher then explains to Bendy over an early morning spliff that Lisa gave him the other half of the “Fractured Violin” picture just before leaving for Corsica in her house boat, saying he had done “good enough.” He explained that the kitchen appliances were missing because he had ordered all new stuff for their apartment with the money they’ll be making now, including an upgrade on the rocking horse. “No manual adjustments on the position any more,” he said. “Everything will be auto!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0511, Heterocera, New Island^
—–
“These books over here have no titles. They must be the important ones. The ones behind the rules.”
“I don’t feel comfortable here,” replied the almost 13 year old Shirley Boot to middle-of-15 Ruby. “Eraserhead Man could come back from one of his ramblings with Robot Derak Jones at any time.”
“Relax,” assured Ruby, still standing tall after the events of the night before up at Hilltop Pool. The Sun Rose. “We have permission to be here. I was *born* here… in the Rabbit Hole.”
“Then what about *him*?” Shirley rolls over and points down to the floor below them. “Mr. Transparent,” she adds glibly.
“Oh he’s just a halfway person. A portal effect. Nothing to worry about. As long as we don’t sit in the chair and try to knit or something. Just do like I said and don’t sit in the chair.”
“Oh I *won’t*. I never had any intention of sitting in that chair.”
“It’s EM’s chair and that is that. It’s a portal thing… ‘nother one. But this raised floor, the books (she waves at the bookshelf in front of her), even the toilet over there just behind the wall… fair game. The table below us as well. It’s just the chair…”
“So you keep saying.” Shirley was itching to talk about men again… boys. She wondered if she should pull out the spliff she has in her pocket and light up. Does Ruby smoke? Is she *cool*?
“I saw the Man in the High Castle outside today,” the 15 year old then said, reimagining the scene. “Checking out EM’s small palm grove. And I’m sure he spotted Annie’s easel and cherry chair there as well. He owns the land, you know. But he didn’t delete the objects. Curious, huh? And he’s just enlarged his castle toward Mabel’s house; you know, the Scarlet Creative Sylvia House. The castle’s west wall is practically in her front yard now.”
Potheads, Shirley then thought, seeing Marty Bendy and Jay Fisher milling about in their strange ways upstairs. New Island Studios, humph. Maybe I should excuse myself and head over there instead. Always up for a smoke those two are.
Ruby was thinking along the same lines — how to excuse herself without seeming rude. But they stuck with each other tonight, unable to break the magnetic attraction. Not that either was gay or anything. But there was a close friendship forming for sure. One needed the other. Despite the 2 1/2 year difference in age. Shirley needed to cut down on the smokes, especially at her tender age. Ruby just needed someone to discuss High Castle stuff, dunes and island morphology, and so on. Annie had gone too far down Pill Popper Lane now, an understood cul-de-sac.
So Ruby and Shirley went back to Mabel’s house and lounged around the dining table. Ruby read some favorite passages from Mabel’s 3rd Diary to Shirley while Fisher and Bendy, now downstairs, sat on the couch behind them here and stared at various, small insects that flew within range. “A gnat,” Bendy blurted at one point just before he ate it.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0415, New Island^
“Get it? She’s *my* doll.”
“Yes, ha ha. Very funny, Bendy. Now lets go put the Tronesisia statue back in API (Artist Point Interactive) before anyone misses her.” 34,537 dollars worth of lindens for that piece alone! Fisher was thinking. Bendy must be punished for this particular mischief. Perhaps taking his Mars Bars away for 1 month will do the trick.
But when they reached API in the southeast part of the island (Bendy is very strong; hauling back and forth and even bending the steel Tronesisia statue presented no problem), the gruff robot had another surprise for Fisher. I, Baker B., had decided to donate 3 of my most recent collages to the gallery, hanging them in the “Waiting Room.”
And then Lisa the Vegetarian herself gave me *half* the “Fractured Violin” painting from her boathouse to put in the gallery, leaving a message saying the other half would be sent when Fisher finished the work he began the other night. When I messaged her back asking what this meant, she simply replied, “Fisher will know.”
But it’s a coup if the future prophet can pull this off — in however way he’s suppose to. “Fractured Violin” is worth at least 10 Tronesisias! Some rumors have it that Adelaide’s multi-panel work might actually be priceless due to certain compositional anomalies. Lisa must really *really* like Fisher to even go this far with the transaction.
But can he finish the deed he started? The salvation of all our Second Lyves may depend on it.
“Soon you will be mine. All mine!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0414, New Island^
Fisher and Bendy or Lord Bendington returned to the place of their rebirth, wondering if the pink mini coop was in good enough shape to be driven around the island. They had a lot of ground to cover now what with running New Island Studios and visiting all those galleries. Or potential galleries. Reliable wheels would be nice.
“Hey Fisher,” Bendy said in his standard gruff tone, staring beyond the car.”
“Hey Lord Bendington,” Fisher replied playfully in an innocent monotone.
“Do *you* remember that island over there? I don’t.”
Fisher admitted it was all just a blur for him when they resurfaced to the, um, surface, but knew LB, being a robot, would have a more accurate memory imprint of the event. At least now that he’s back in the Elephant Club.
“A new island,” Lord Bendington said almost religiously. “‘Nother one.”
“How many does that make?” Fisher queried. “We need to start *eliminating* them instead of adding to the total.”
“I *know*.”
“We should name it for the sim instead. Not New Island or New New Island or whatever this time.”
“Good one!” A satisfied Bendy sits in the car. “Hop in. Let’s see what this baby’s still got!”
“Um. Bendy?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0316, New Island^
Fisher soon gets a part time job DJ-ing at the local Elephant Club to help support his religious, artistic, and recreational causes, but usually only one dancer showed up: perpetually bopp’n and popp’n Annie, always attracted to a New Island beat and often freshly landed from the latest High Castle abduction.
Still — alternating between Roger Pine Ridge’s hit single “Time” and its flip side of “Beach” tonight upon her request — he imagines the tips piling up.
Just for the, um, record, the father of Corsican gal Laverne Glam owns both this club (named for the trademark shape of his home continent) and neighboring Bumpy’s Ice Cream Village his daughter works at. Hopefully we’ll be able to fit in more of their interesting New Island story soon.
But right now we must return to the Fisher and Bendy show…
—–
“I remember the first time we met. That chess shack back in VHC City.”
“It was an ice fishing shack that just happened to have a chess set laid out inside,” Fisher corrected. “And it was the *last* time we met.”
“Oh. Right. Forgot.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0313, New Island^
“Mabel, I mean *Ruby*,” Jay Woodhull suddenly uttered after Ruby got off the line with Shirley Boot (the API visit was on for tonight!). She was just about to teleport down and out of here. “We, Marty and I, have had a talk and we’ve decided to show you who we really are. Deep down beneath.”
Please don’t do that guys, Ruby thought to herself. Please please don’t.
“So deep,” Marty added, out of breath from all the moving about apparently, “that we almost *forgot.*”
He changed in mid rock, Jay along with him.
“Fisher and Lord Bendington?!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0312, New Island^
Annie was surprised to still find the pink Mini Coop perched on tiny Fishers Island with its 4 trees and the truth. The real owner of the boathouse land (and the isle) must not be online very much, she rationalized. She decided to check. You can do this by joining a group an avatar is a member of and viewing their status, which will indicate the last time they logged onto Our Second Lyfe.
Okay, last time for this particular avatar: 12/16/17. Closing in on a half year ago. This pink car could be sitting here for a while. But where were Bendy and Fisher, freshly returned from the Second Lyfe Underground with tall tales to tell obviously? She recalls something about a dinner. Last Supper?
Checking her new smart phone Axis (Tronesisia?) gave her, Annie didn’t find any mention of Fisher and Lord Bendington (this particular blog is usually blocked from characters within, to protect them from infinity points) but she did find a Fry thanks to a face recognition app.
Hmm, she thinks at the time. Fisher is Fry, or, actually, as she is looking yet again today, *Fries* (Mandela Effect in effect, thanks to Fishers Isle). And his famous traveling companion Lord Bendington is obviously this Bender fellow from the same show, this “Futurama.” Or was it Bendy? Anyway, her new boss Tronesisia (Axis?) said that Fisher is also Clare Nova, one of the old lords of Greater VHC City. And, as such, Fisher was dead but now brought back to life. Like Jesus or the Easter Bunny. The Underground is Death itself.
In the future, Fisher will lead a new religion championing life over death, hope over despair, peace and harmony over war and strife. Bendington will be his trusted right hand Peter, Paul and Mary all rolled up into one (joint). But it is the era of religion. Witness Collagesity with its rival upstarts of the Cult of Oo’d and Fries with Cheese.
Yes, there was more to accomplish here on this New Island. Annie was a bonafide artist now. And Karl is back (!), thanks to Baker Bloch wisely yielding to Baker Blinker’s wishes.
Annie remains Wheeler and Wheeler remains Annie ’round and ’round.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0101, New Island^
Sunklands 