Tag Archives: Big Black Smoke^*%

Abbey

“My son use to *love* going to the elephant show over in Raccoon…”

“Great, Biggie,” interrupted the male Baker, wanting to get away from the character’s origin. “But let’s stick to the topic. Tell me what you saw happen in Room 03.”

“An outbreak, like I said. A loving wife killing her husband. Stabbed him in her eye, short ‘n’ sweet. The Triad is trying to get rid of any evidence of its existence. Thus the trouble in Dallows.”

“I’m not talking about that right now.” Baker Bloch pauses in his grilling to ponder the fate of the missing town there, and the rebuild. He checked yesterday. Only a couple of houses and a small forest to ride your horse through. No progress on that possibility. He resumes. “Let’s stay with the motel. You say your pal Mark A. saw a woman slice a man’s head open down in the town hospital and remove his brain, stick it in a sealed jar, and leave the hospital with it. How did he not tell the authorities this?”

“Witchcraft,” stated Big Black Smoke plainly to the primary owner of Urqhart’s (or thereabout’s) Collagesity. “And it was *no* man. It was a *God*.”

“Ahh, yes.” From their blue table and chairs, Baker Bloch looked around at the creation and saw it was good. David A. Or B. Both probably. But now: David A.B. Normal. Mr. Everyday Ordinary. He looked directly into Biggie’s eye. “And where is that Diamond of a Brain *now*?”

Big Black Smoke peered around as well, at the noisy cockatoo to their side spouting nonsense again. He could barely think above the racket. An umbrella cockatoo. Probably had all the answers. But who could understand her?? Except…

“Did it go home?” Baker Bloch guessed in the noisy silence. He wondered how long it would take *this* creation to collapse, just like what happened over in Stranger Creek.

(to be continued?)

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slavery

Yoko Ona had returned from what she’d seen and was determined to walk right between them, the *forgeries*.

“Excuse me lovebirds,” she said, eclipsing both from each other in the moment.

—–

“What’s going on?” she called over to security guard Big Black Smoke, still guarding the Room 03 door as if his life depended on it. “Police tape?” She *knew* this wasn’t here before. She wondered if the authorities had finally been alerted to the body inside. Had maid Hidi come out from hiding with it? Despite the tape she decided to go in. Big Black Smoke, another dummy, didn’t lift a finger to stop her from entering. As long as it’s not Room 03…

—-

Secure in the fact that the body was still within — bridge-like portal exposed behind a wall — Yoko Ona took a relieving pee in the toilet before entering. This witch was not who she appeared to be.

—–

“It’s John,” exclaimed observing Marty over in Urqhart (or Thereabout)’s Collagesity. “It’s got to be!”

—–

Standing on its head, Yoko peered into the first of the other rooms, beyond the original. This was Two beyond One. She didn’t like what she saw.

.

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roles

“Well, go ahead and read me my A B C’s or 1 2 3’s or whatever. We’ll head down to the station, then, and see who’s who and what’s not.”

“Break it off, Kevin,” spoke Jenny, out of her role as Heartsdale police officer Candy Candle Cane. Because she’s always on fire. “Big Black Smoke is out of room 03 again.”

“Uuhhh. I don’t care.”

“Shhhhh.”

—–

You have to go back, Jack. Blue is Pink and Pink is Blue. They’re calling for you.”

“Then I will take your name with me to remember you by, um, Precious. Jack Blue I am from now on.”

“Ingratiate yourself with Green, Brown. They will guide you. Leave Olive alone,” she warned.

They switched places and he ate her cake too.

—–

“Jack Blue, huh? You don’t *look* like a Jack. You’re certainly blue, though.”

“And you’re Green,” Jack Blue quickly followed.

“Pink is dead.” SEAN “Green” Penn’s head hung low, remembering the day he heard like it was yesterday even though it was 5 years ago. Now he was in Little Rock, Arkansas but certainly with a bit of the (New Orleans) blues left. And now a Blue itself shows up. Himself, herself. Something.

“I know,” Jack Blue tries to console, also thinking about Brown. Plans gone awry! “Let’s turn our attention back to the map and the next step.”

Green wipes his eyes and tries to focus. It all comes into place eventually. The Big Picture.

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Heartsdale 03

She woke up in the middle of the night with a realization. The maid was still trying to move the dead body out of the room to no avail. Perhaps she was attempting to be too quiet about it. I know who the motel receptionist is, Yoko Ona thought while staring up at the ceiling long crack in the ceiling: Cindy A.! This is where I met her and also started interacting with the others of the traitorous A.Team. Todd I believe. And Jim! Who could forget Jim and his maths. Figures began forming in her mind with this. All the numbers again (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0). She decided she needed a middle of the night martini for further pondering. And so as not to disturb the maid and her duties, she tip toed out of the room, silently shutting the door behind her in search of a bar.

To move beyond 02 and especially 03, she knew she’d have to get by the security guard known locally as Big Black Smoke — learned that from the maid. She, in a whisper of a voice, had warned her about the corruption existing at the motel after dusting the bathroom for the 3rd time. 3 again. A.Team with three members. She’s getting closer! She runs smack into Big Black Smoke while spacing out about 3. “Morning misses,” he spoke, not fazed in the least. “Out for your morning walks again?” Plural, she realized. He thinks *I* am 3. And he’d been moved in front of motel door 03 with the collision for further emphasis. Heartsdale was certainly trying to talk to the famous widow of a woman! She walks further into the town proper and its beating Null Heart after affirming Big Black Smoke’s guess.

(to be continued)

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Mouse

He didn’t know where he was. The approaching, grey ghost didn’t help. “You killed me Arthur Kill,” she moaned. Oh — *her*, he thought while watching the spectre waver back and forth, then retreat again. The *freshest* one. This sometimes happens. He must be dreaming…

Earlier:

Big Black Smoke couldn’t resist. The door was open with no one home currently — he’d checked all the windows.  The bed beckoned; he’d deal with the consequences later. That’s how the man known *locally* as Big Black Smoke met his end at the terminus of a Dead End Street in Urqhart. Or right next to it.

—–

Hmmm, pondered Arthur Kill, readying for another. A black man like me. Oh well. Duty calls. He enters.

—–

Later, while staring at the rotating tire outside that Arthur Kill buried Big Black Smoke under, a tiny rap at the door. It was Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child, longing for another bed down with new love lust and wannabe novelist Barry X. Vampire, who would escape all this mess and slaughter as fate deemed it. Onward and upward into new peaks to the south west, he wisely decided earlier that day.

—–

*POP* (another one)

—–

Dawn was breaking in Arthur Kill’s dream, driving the ghosts away. But he was in the middle of novel 19, with no story there yet possible. Since this is sort of toward the middle of 18. Or a little beyond. Urqhart.

—–

“That was a short one, Hucka Doobie,” spoke Baker Bloch while staring down at the freshly inserted pin on the Big Map.

“Not over yet,” advised the wise bee-ing just out of sight to the west and/or south.

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he is a good egg

Not great, not so-so. Good. Better than most of us.

The Tall Walk is temporarily obscured.

He needs to rest for the night.

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The Tall Walk

Cy Twomile knew that when he crossed this bridge leading to where the great burg of Fisher Rigg use to rest there would be no going back and his secure, blanket-like place in the world would be lost forever. Better change his avatar appropriately before ascending into a new land.

“Civilian” life begins here.

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DEAD End Street

He wasn’t budging, this Big Black Smoke. “I have as much right to be here as you, red boy,” he declared from his cheap, green box seat. “You ain’t paying no rent.”  He settles back, crosses his arms behind his head. “Neither am I.”

Greg Ogden argued that he is about to pay the rent but is still trying the apartment out at times.

“Times what?” replies the larger, black man. “42?”

Greg didn’t know the answer to that. He didn’t know everything. He remained silent, contemplating whether to leave. But *he* had as much right to be here as Big Black Smoke.  This remained a stare down for now. He told him that.

“Hey,” then declared BBS. “You ain’t that red dude who’s going to marry that red haired gal in the church next door this coming Sunday? She’s been talking about you. About how you become cross sometimes.”

Greg said he wasn’t this person, although he likes to dress in red. Greg Ogden explains that he use to be a red mechanoid playing in a punk band with 2 other, differently colored mechanoids. “We got kicked out of Olde Lapara Towne due to a noise ordinance,” he furthered. “We came here to escape, to *hide* and regroup. But this place…”

“I know I know,” responded Big Black Smoke, looking around at all the red walls surrounding them. Like a cell. “This place changes you.” He was starting to feel sorry for the boy. “You know Golden Jim, the police chief? Don’t confuse him with Golden Joe. That’s a chef. You see what I mean about this town, boy? This New (Lapara) Towne? Same as the old town, hmph.”

Greg says he’s trying to leave but can’t. “Stewart’s dead,” he offered, nodding toward the window with the bay view. “Newton owns that ship out there now. That’s his brother.”

“I *know* who Newton is.” Big Black Smoke resisted the urge to call him ‘fool’, but he’s certainly trying to step off a ledge now. “You can’t leave once you stay here long enough.” Big Black Smoke had figured out who Greg Ogden was, and that this was his old apartment. Golden Jim had told him about the 2 Greg(g)s, one with the extra ‘g’, or, better (explained Golden Jim), the ‘g’ *stolen* from his last name. This theft bought him some jail time. Golden Jim wasn’t here then, but, again, this was legend. Like the day Pierre Schaeffer rode into town and stole all the Berries and took them off to La La Land. Even nimble Thimble couldn’t escape. Ahh, Thimble, thought Big Black Smoke, traveling back further in time to a thinner physique. Those were the days. The Dark Ages. I wish those old times could return. But Pierre changed all that. Him and the eye guy.

“This is *Jasper*, fool.” Big Black Smoke couldn’t help himself. “You’re stuck as much as those *flies* over in Central Park!”

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