Tag Archives: Biff Carter^*

not far enough

“So tell me about this chicken outside, The Mann. I thought this place was the North already. Why the big, Southern mascot, then?”

“Do you like this song? The *black* Elvis, not the white one. Listen to that smooth, jazz-cat voice, eh?”

“Now, now. You’re switching subjects on me again, white man. But — then again, I guess if you’re playing the black Elvis on the jukebox then this has to be the North.”

“Well,” and The Mann turned around to look at the chicken here, “we have interlopers here still. *Close* to the South here. But when you reached this truck stop you could feel safe and breath freely once more. Just a sim down on Route 8: a different story potentially. No trust there yet.”

“Where did you get your car?” I asked, looking outside myself but in a different direction.

“Bought it from some dude who hailed from Pipersville. Heard of it? Sweet deal. Only 60,000 lindens — *no* shipping.”

But then the man in front of me changed. I was speaking to Keith B. again. Or was it Kevin A.? Of the Kevin Orchardsity trio. Time and Space and *Options* were still unstable here.

And who was I?

Better get further North. Totally away from the Chicken People.

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prayer

“So the A.Team’s rocket was never launched. Chip Shot, Pipersville in the future, was saved.”

“Oh the bomb reached Chip Shot. Wiped it pretty clean out. But it’s like that church choir practice synchronicity from Beatrice, Nebraska, US of A. Pretty much everyone was out of town at the time. Sink X is there for a reason. It’s a residue crater for certain — not a legitimate, Sinkology verified sinkhole. The Brown-Bower theorems prove that conclusively. So that part can’t be changed. But we got almost everyone out. Save one.”

“The Gno King,” I guessed after a beat.

“No,” replied Detective Biff Carter, still on the hunt. “He or she survived in the Room. It was on the north side of Chip Shot but the south side of Pipersville. When the former rebuilt as the latter after the War of Southern Aggression.”

“So the Gno King hid out in the room and survived the blast.”

“No… not the Gno King. Get that trail out of your noggin. It was someone else. We know he (or she) was there because of the maths, though. They couldn’t work out the way they did if not.”

“Your Mama. Your Mama was in the Room.”

“It’s on the north side of Chip Shot,” and here patient, precise Detective Carter moved his right hand away from me on the bar counter, and pivoted it sideways, as in a karate chop, “and the south side of Pipersville — when it came about.” He opened his near hand with the same gesture but facing the opposite direction. “Where’s the other gun, Marcus? What’s neither North (he moved his far hand back toward me) nor South (he moved his near hand away from me until they met in the middle to make a fused statement)?”

I thought I was Clever, like a Fox. I thought I was Smart (hence the names). But I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around it. I’d need more help.

“Can I phone a friend?” I joked.

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Filed under *Second Life, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

all powerful

“We’re definitely on the right trail, er, Jiggy.”

“Jackie!”

“Jackie, right right. But I don’t like the way he’s eyeing you.”

“He? How do you know he’s a he?”

“Because, er, he’s eyeing you.” He points over to his assistant. “*You*.” He points to himself. “Not me.”

She stares at it; it stares at her. “Could be a gay eye, you don’t know. *Jimmy*.”

“Johnny,” he corrected. “Um, Tony I meant.”

“You don’t know,” proclaims Jackie.

“I don’t know,” he admitted back. “Jerry,” he tries again. “‘J’ I’m pretty sure.”

“I think it’s Jimmy,” Jackie reinforced. “Like in Little. Jimmy Little. Jimmy Powell Little.”

“Just stop it.”

“Or he  — or she — just doesn’t find you attractive.” She looked over at him. “Nah, that’s not it. You’re handsome as f-ing hell. *Jimmy*”

“You’re one to talk,” he decides to say in the void. Did he mean it? Sometimes. On the darkest of azure nights while hanging out in the donut hole.

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repatriation

“So it was actually the very next night the drums changed over. To the celebrated circle within a circle.”

“Yes,” states Biff Carter, still drinking and explaining at the bar. “They were celebrity spotting in that small park outside the Seraph Club on the other side of town, the *uptown* area, when Jenny noticed the poster.”

—–

“Hey dad. You’re more into British stuff than American, aren’t you? More Union Jack than Stars and Stripes?”

“Sure, baby. If we were in Real Life.”

She pointed above her father. “What about *that* for a logo, then?”

—–

“And, as you can hear, there’s improvement even in the drumming tonight. The symbol actually makes the man in this case. He’s entered his ascent. And, sadly, this trajectory would eventually cross his equally ascending daughter’s at the Room.”

“Back to the Room, then.”

“Sure, baby. I mean — just sure.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Cassandra City, Maebaleia/Satori^^

two three

“So they began playing together, even touring together away from Pipersville, the home base. Daughter and father; Jenny and Keith they were called in the days. Well, Keith never changed his name. Jenny, of course, became Your Mama.”

“Of course,” I replied to Detective Biff Carter. Because he was an officer of the law no more. Not since Oakley. But who am I? Just an observer for now. Call me Smart. Like a Fox. Clever, even. Back to Biff…

“I was here when they played their first gig away from home. Sitting right at this bar listening in. Oh that woman, that *girl* at the time, could sing. And Keith. Well, he was adequate on drums. Never guess he’d eventually become a member of a major rock band, let’s say. And, as you can see, he’s still got the star on the drums; hadn’t got rid of that yet.”

I peered over at the illusion on the Cassandra City stage. Keith B., bank employee of Pipersville whose boss recently told him to keep daughter Jenny out of that room at all cost. So he went into the garage, found the drum kit buried under a heap of old moss. Pulled it out, dusted it off. Practiced. Here we are.

Biff Carter stared over at me. “I’m glad I found the Man About Time, even if it didn’t turn out the way I expected.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I decided to test my new catchphrase. “There’s a Sucka born every half century.”

“Overlap,” he replied, nodding. “Good idea. Train the replacement.”

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THIS SIM 03

But I knew where they were upon pondering/wandering only a bit further. Starting right next door.

Hills of Bill.

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THIS SIM 02

“Always looking for connections, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he admitted. “Catwoman I think. Half woman, half cat. Another type of underling.”

“Sooo. You’re the Cat(man), then. The Red Dwarf Cat. Always womanizing, or the door’s always open to it.”

“I think I’m irresistible,” he admitted. “But I have my limits. Nose piercings! And that tongue!”

“So you said.” You should maybe like the tongue, I was thinking but didn’t say aloud. But maybe it was pierced too. He doesn’t like piercings. But then again, they’re *shiny*. Cat loves shiny things! We better move on.

“Sooo. What brought you *here*?”

“It’s right next door. THIS SIM.”

“I see you still have your primmy rose. Are you looking for love in this sim as well.”

“Always!” He sticks out his own tongue a bit here, I observed. Pierced as well — should’ve known.

I didn’t want to delay any longer. “Let’s go see the sign, then.”

—–

“Flickering,” he stated. “Half and half again. If I wasn’t standing a certain way I would have never seen the address.” Another potential love! Marcus Fox Smartville muses. He couldn’t help himself.

“1 blocked,” I also observed. “Interesting. But from the house they were in…” We moved over to the house.

“… plain as day.”

“Where are they now?” he asked, making me puzzled. “I mean, if they weren’t me — us.” My face was still squinched up. “*Pretend*,” he requested firmly.

“I — I.”

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