Tag Archives: BIG RED MACHINE+

November 6, 2022 · 9:26 am

00350410

As soon as he logged back in, Biff Carter, former police officer now just out on loan, drove his old, battered patrol car — maintenance not kept up after his retirement much to his lament — over to the cell where they were *suppose* to be keeping Arthur Kill. Or Kill van Kull — whatever. He’d know the shape if not the name fer sure. And this wasn’t him.

“Where is he?” he barked to Policeman Clubb in terse greeting. Clubb and he go way back, had their hands in the old style beatings of ’73, miracle year indeed. It was all in the book that Shelley at the tavern somewhere below — beyond — just put down in favor of her tablet and dream related material. “Big Red Machine.”

“Dunno. This guy just appeared in his place while I was looking away for a moment. Said he’s a Receiver.”

“*Receiver*. What’s *that*?” Biff Carter was feeling the pressure of the beat again, the anxiety of not knowing what’s around any corner. Like this. He purposely fed Filburt those pills so he could get him ill and take his place back on the force, so it was all his doing. He had to keep up with the girl. He asked about her next.

“Missed her by a day and a 1/2,” replied Clubb.

“Darn,” cussed Carter. But maybe he said “damn” or even “f-ck” here. Then to this “Receiver”: “Who are you? What did you do with Kill? Did you *kill* him?” Carter might have emitted a small smile here but couldn’t manage it through the anger.

“Kill van Kull?” replied our Claude, who we met back in Section 01 and last appeared in this photo-novel (don’t say what # in the series) at the beginning post of Section 02. Seems like so long ago. “Lampton?” Claude recites another name this killer of the film went by, kill or be killed being one of his mottoes. He’s working on some more.

“Whatever he goes by,” replies Biff Carter bitingly. “I know *you’re* not him. Despite being a [delete name] too… sometimes hard to tell you f-ers apart.

Ah, the f- word, thinks Claude here. Another one due for a visit to The Void. He’ll see to it asap. “He turned… into the Receiver that I am,” spoke Claude, knowing this wouldn’t make any sense to Carter, Clubb. He dare not mention the dog.

Carter finally emitted that smile, which turned into a laugh, which turned into a doubled over guffaw. Surreal truths sometimes do this to people. Witness George Washington Carver exclaiming that he invented a phonograph needle made out of peanuts to a world wide audience in ’84. Not a dry eye on the planet. Hmm, Carver… Carter.

Finally he recovered. “Bring him down to the station,” he barked at Clubb while dabbing his face with a handkerchief. “I’m going to the Kitty Kat Klub,” which Clubb knew was one of their old hangouts while on the beat. Wasn’t even invited. Who was in charge here after all? His old boss Carter or his new boss? Maybe, deep down, they’re both the same.

“Sure, sure,” he relented, not wanting a beating himself. Because he knew what was going to happen to Claude BOOF!

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0410, Hana Lei^^, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^

Tagged as , , , , , ,

November 6, 2022 · 8:19 am

Tesseract Inn continued…

The dead will return to their graves, the bats will fly back to The Void, and the orange lights on the fir tree in the center of it all will be replaced by anything but as Halloween season shifts inevitably into Christmas. Shelley decides to bed down for the night on the comfy couch by the fire as the fog rolls in, another product of the lingering evil. The “Big Red Machine” being finished as far as she can take it, she shifts back to her standard tablet for more reading. Always 1 or 2 or 3 pages in at this time of night and she’s ready for sleep; can stash the tablet safely away beside the bed — or couch in this case — its main job accomplished. She likes to read about dreams anymore, but still has problems remembering her own. Society offers little in training for that, unfortunately, with the emphasize instead being placed on “out there”, or the manipulation of physical objects and the achievement of material goals. How much do you have in your bank account, Shelley? Not enough, society might answer. Focus your energy on investments, financial planning. But the dreams, she might protest in her mind. What about the *inner* wealth. No answer for that.

She’s spacing out instead of reading. Time to shut the eyes. She doesn’t have her special neck molding pillow but, oh well. Next time she’ll be sure to plan an intercontinental trip better; this one was rather impromptu in nature. Plus, well there are the shifts in time/location to deal with. The Cross, pheh. And now she’s trapped, in effect, in one of its quadrants, let’s say, as it divides the continent into 4 fairly equal sections, with one remaining unfinished — not the one she’s in, though, this Mountain land with its many shiny granite peaks and ridges. Must be the mica.

“Goodnight Spider!” she calls as she rolls over, using her hand as a makeshift pillow.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0409, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^, The Cross^

Tagged as , ,

November 5, 2022 · 9:37 am

Twitch of the Morgan

‘Big Red Machine,’ ‘Big Red Machine.’ *Here* it is.

Now to finally finish that chapter.

As she read, Morgan (Orient PO) was being rebuilt starting with green, blue and red blocks.

From peak to shining peak.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0408, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^

Tagged as ,

October 7, 2022 · 5:06 pm

Machines take over?

Officer Brendin, not to be confused with officers Brenden, Brendan, and Brendon from other photo-novels (joke), reports a time burp to his superiors over at the Triggerfish station on his invisible phone, undercover at the time. Just about to rub my chin thoughtfully, he thinks, grinning a bit while talking and kind of hiding his mouth. “One woman’s ordered curry,” he spies while recording. “The other is nibbling on fries and then… *there*.  Something fishy happened fer sure.”

—–

He finally gets around to interviewing Angie about the incident when he finds the correct alley. Queer as well, because there’s only one. Maybe he’ll get to that case next. “‘All Eel’, with a big sign outside reading ‘Ask about our Eel!'” she defends her dive. “What did the woman expect?”

“I see.” A spider crawled up his leg, followed by more. He was down for the count in 5 and not the normal 10. The reds had advanced just that far. Angie held out a bit more, armed with eels the size of seals. Blam blam blam, like teeny tiny atomic blasts to the wooden planks of the docks. Yet they swarmed in from uptown, downtown, sidetown, emboldened by the lack of residents in each place. The town was down to 4, all in the middle, all about to get “spidered”, likewise cornered fishermen Ben and Al joining in the fun. From above, it looked like a big red dot formed atop the center. Like a target. And drop away those technologically advanced Triggerfishians did just then, boomb!! (again) Trouble is, this time the town went away with the enemy. Everyone loses.

Etherea heard it in Ohio, a 4608 rental parcel 2 sims west named for a user from Cleveland or Columbus, take your pick, throw in Cincinnati as well. She made the call, learned the bad news about her house, her town. She talked to her cousin Apples (Apples?) about it, similarly tagged for the state fruit because of a past presence of Johnny Appleseed.

“Don’t you worry, cousin, you stay here as long as you need to rebuild your life, your way of living.”

She glances outside at troubled, black haired and black clad Darla by the swimming pool, back from camp just in time for the unfortunate event that would spread atomic dust this time as far as Pennsylvania, a neighboring parcel to the east. Just that close. “How’s she holding up?” Etherea decided to deflect her troubles, knowing she’d take it harder than anyone with her sensitivity to sounds and all. BOOOMB. Even though two sims over it must have been deafening to the child.

“She’s holding,” says her mother, indeed looking out at the girl with hands now clasped to both ears. “And she brought a friend with her, wearing white instead of black. I think they’ll help each other over time.

“How’re *you* holding out darling?”

“Stunning. Didn’t hear a thing.”

“That’s my balance girl.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0113, Nautilus, North

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , ,

April 12, 2022 · 9:58 am

big red machine

“Lou, be a dear and buy your old man a drink while he’s studying, would you?”

“Dad-dy,” Lou replied, arms still crossed. “We’ve been here *3* days.”

“Keep it down, keep it down,” father Osborne Well says over more in a whisper. “Other people are here too.”

Lou Well stays quiet this time.

“Weelll?” her father prompted, a typical reply and a play on their last name he loves to utter when he can. He beams a wicked smile. She still doesn’t return the smile but rises from her chair with a small huff and does what he asks. She inserts a quarter, hears a bottle drop. Or is it a can? — she can’t tell if the sound is more glassy or metallic. Queer, she realizes. And — great — she can’t get the door to open at the bottom of the thing. “It’s broke, daddy. We’ll have to go into town for your sody pop.” *Finally*, a possible way out of this prison of books for her.

“Then leave it,” he decides, learning winning over thirst and sugary desire. He’s about to uncover the deepest, darkest secrets of the great tentacled one. He confers this to his daughter.

“MOA,” she replies without thinking. “We’ve been there already. We *know* what it is.”

“Shhh,” he reprimands again about her raised voice, but then realizes she’s right. It *is* MOA he’s searching for: Most Old Ancient.

Man About Time wakes up but remembers what they said behind the wall. He’ll return another night in another dream to this spot. This portal is *key*.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0410, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, North, Rooster's Peninsula

Tagged as , , , , , , , ,

January 26, 2022 · 9:47 am

redd

Back in Collagesity, observing Mr. Babyface became concerned about the lack of focus. For starter, going back to the very beginning, it’s Man About *Town*, not Time. The errors started at the conception, he realized, thinking about earlier observed images. “Big Red Machine”, now where was that book? Not the blue one over there: that’s “Urantia.” An opera that never ends. Think, Babyface, think! He’s as bad as MAT right now in this magic window, laying dazed in front of a waterfall he doesn’t know the location of. Could be center, could be fringe. “*Car*, MAT, *car*,” Mr. Babyface wanted to shout at the screen to remind the bumbler and stumbler through time the central dilemma the town faced. Jeffrey Phillips was inside, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Woops! Sorry miss!”

“I’m okay I think.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0314, Bay City/Nova Albion^, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Sansara

Tagged as , , , ,

January 5, 2022 · 12:30 pm

player at piano

‘Big Red Machine,’ ‘Big Red Machine.’ *Here* it is.

No place to read — all seats taken, thanks to my colleagues in crime. Not crime — anyway, I’ll stand. I don’t mind. These 2 always seem to have the upper hand, testing this and judging or determining that. When I have the information in this book, things might change. Worth a try. Good, they’re not looking — absorbed in their own research.

Chapter 4: Twitch of the Morgan. Okay, getting somewhere. Um, hmm. (read read read). Ah ha. (scan scan scan) Getting late. The others seem bored. Better wrap this up, come back when I can ditch these two snitches — yes snitches. To the cause. I’ve found the book, that’s the important thing today. Fern is still looking around, almost as if — she can’t see me (!). Can they *hear* me? But too risky to test while she has the book. No need to attract attention to herself, whether she is truly hidden or not. She could become unhid, and whatever spell was cast on her by unknown powers (but probably Fern; maybe by accident even) wore off.

Okay, definitely getting weird here. Fern’s looked right at me several times now and it’s as if I didn’t exist (!). Ghosted somehow; Lichen the same. They seem to be finished with their own reading, kind of staring and glancing around. Probably looking for *me* I would assume, since we came in the same car or whatever. Carriage. The time is April through July, I know that. The day, the *century*, though, is unclear. Fern said this was a place we could research the hypercube, and better understand the link that is forming between 1st and 2nd lives. Great! I said, and Lichen also smiled across at me, knowing that Fern was onto something and this would be a better library experience than the one over in Dairocha Castle on Nautilus. This wasn’t Nautilus, oh no. This was the Orient by comparison. And me, me… Oriental. This is about me! Another test, most likely. But why?

The 9th and final chapter beyond the Great 8: gone. As if it had been ripped out by unseen hands. The crucial information! Soo sleepy. Fern and Lichen are still looking around. Sleepy. Eyes getting heavy. *Gone*.

“I don’t think Alysha is coming back,” Fern finally said, tired of the wait.

“No. She must have gone back to the carriage.”

“Carriage?”

“What-ever.”

Lumbering Big Red sitting nude with his big ass parked on the piano bench over there was finishing up Part 9 of his suite of compositions. Soon the spell would be over and Alysha would reappear, a bit confused but otherwise okay. But the book in her lap would have disappeared along with the music. One and the same.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0103, Dairocha, Mountain Lake^, Nautilus, North, Omega^^

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , ,

December 19, 2021 · 8:43 am

34th Street

“I’m just saying you haven’t been the same, since… since…”

“Cincinnati. Just say it.”

“Bench..”

“I know,” he interrupted again, knowing the story all too well.

“It was a lot of lumber!”

“He deserved it.” Silence for a bit, then: “I guess we’re going to talk about Rose next. The *ul-timate* Red.”

She shook her head. “No. No, I’m just saying…”

“It was the frigg’n Metz!” he exclaimed, finally raising his voice on the subject, as he almost always does. “How would I know, a MIRACLE would occur?”

“It,” she tried to calm him down, “was… a long time ago.”

“Not in my nogg’n.” He knocked on his head. It made a hollow sound. Lumber again. Bench would get his revenge. “The whole *team*, was jinxed. Just look at their names. Rose, pheh. Bench, *huff*. Perez… well that one was kind of normal. But *Morgan*.”

“Now dearest, why don’t we wrap up some more presents,” she distracted again. “Then afterwards, afterwards…” She dangled her leg seductively. No need to think about 69 any longer. *That* 69.  It was often the only way to get him to shut up about it once he started. Now the other leg joined the first: two danglers. Would he take the bait?

—–

“Tom… SEEVER!” he said to end. Always the same.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0514, Iowa, Paper Soap, Soap

Tagged as , , , , ,