Tag Archives: Buster Damm^*

switch

Okay I’m here watching the Mercury capsule at Neptune Bay like Buster told me to, Duncan pondered. But I don’t think anyone is hiding there — I’ve been watching for hours now.

Just keep her inside, he requested. Don’t let her drown or anything but just keep her inside until the shoot is over. “Okay,” he said. Anything for a role other than prison.

—–

“There she is in person(!)” Kick Ass 01 (Boos) said over to Kick Ass 02 (Bogota) about Elberta standing at the bar in the background. “I gotta hand it to me, pal. I sure can pick ’em!”

Bag wearing Kick Ass 02 was not staring as much now. “Yeah, but she’s not exactly what I expected. I remember, well…”

“Prettier? Don’t say prettier, pal. Because she’s a knockout(!)”

Kick Ass 02 looks over again. Were they talking about the same chic?

“Hello boys!” she calls over, drink in hand. But which one? One way to find out.

—–

“Good job,” he pats him on the back while they walk over, but for reasons other than congratulatory, ha.

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eyes

“Where’d you get that *hair*, brother of mine.”

Toothpick pats the top of his now thickly padded skull. “Neptune hair. It’s all the rage in the central parts of The City. Just a demo for now — trying it out. You like?” He moves his piece of straw around in his mouth in rhythm with Elberta’s. Both notice. Both turn a little red (?).

“Ahem, yes I suppose.” She couldn’t say much since she was testing out a demo as well. Silence for the moment, then: “Do you think he’ll still show up tonight?”

“Who?”

“You know. Spongebub. The reason we’re here. We need to tell him that his wife is still alive and well in Urqhart or thereabouts, selling rental units for the Illuminati. That’s the organization she was working for all along. It was the drink–”

“Sponge*bob*?” Toothpick was backing up, unable to understand the line of thought pointing to the single eyed ones, The Residents and Firesign Theatre (or Theater) both.

“*Bub*,” reinforced the sister. “We’ll call him bub in this lower, more paradoxical dimension.” She reconsidered the word. What was the adjective form of parody? She didn’t know. She remained quiet, waiting for him to talk again.

“You mean the little yellow fellow, the square one?”

“Yes. Sponge*bub*,” she pronounced again.

“You mean like the little yellow, square fellow on the floor beside me right now?”

“Um. What?”

“He’s right here. Beside me. He’s been here for a while. I thought you knew.”

Elberta stands up, peers over the edge of The Table and sees the top of Spongebub’s square head with its big goofy peepers ogling (?) back. “Oh. Okay.” She keeps staring, looking for signs of life. “Why isn’t he *doing* anything — saying anything?”

“Go ahead, little fellow,” encouraged Toothpick by his side.

“Bahahahaha!” suddenly came the activated sound upon this request. “She has a square just like *me*!” He reads above her head in his high pitched and oh so nasal voice. “Gone… mo… ing.” Spongebub puts a yellow finger to his now down-turned line of a mouth, a thinking gesture complete with bulging eyes rolled upward. “Err.” He stares forward again. “What’s a mo-ing?”

They correct him as one, synchronized once more.

Back to the canal for the both of ’em.

—–

Buster gave Duncan what he thought might be good news. “They decided to get married after all, the brother and the sister. Disturbing I know. But par for the course in the Deep–”

Duncan hung up. He was already mentally prepared to move to the Sunklands to stay with Elberta and Toothpick. It was as if a cushy rug had been rudely jerked out from under his feet, leaving him to fall to a rock hard floor he understood all too well. It was his cell.

(to be continued)

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set

“She h’ain’t coming!” So shrill and trilling for a chicken, who usually wax eloquently when they have that talking device inserted down their throats. But Toothpick knew what happened; voice matches emotions of the moment. He figured Elberta ran off with that [delete name] boy Jimmy John Jones who she’s been going on about for months now. She’s bucking tradition in more ways that one. So she sent her messenger chick. The coward. He’d understand. He didn’t want to see her that way neither. This was his sister for God durn sake. His *twin*. He begins to think of running away himself. Maybe he’ll just follow her and Jimmy to wherever they went. That’ll teach ’em. He would have understood. He h’ain’t no looker like Jimmy. Everything will be safe and above board. He always liked Jimmy anyway. Despite the, um, well…

—–

“We’ll have to order you a new part from Black Ice. I think it’s down in the belt section.”

“No.”

“You’ll get use…”

Duncan Avocado kept shaking his head. He wasn’t going to budge on this. Pot-D can do whatever they like to him in return. Send him back to Dixie for all he cares. Then the memories flood back, the Slave-up vending machine, etc. Two months is a long *long* time down there (in Hell). He doesn’t want to relive that pain, even from a safe distance. He forces himself to come back to the present. He fondles his skeleton heart necklace, the one Buster gave him almost two years ago now. He reconsiders.

Buster Damm senses the change of heart and sweetens the package. “Elberta is a *looker*. You’ll get use to the hick ways. And they’re not really from the Deep South anyway, Mississippi and all. They’re from the very southern part of Black Ice where we use to have the Boos and Bogota…”

Duncan was nodding his head now. He’d given in. To whatever they had in mind. Mention of The River sealed it.

“No three word name. One, or, at best, two.” He spits in his hand. Buster spits in his. They shake.

Reality changes.

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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!

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XXX dance

“They think they are the X, Pitch. But they’re only the western edge: Long Drive. There’s Middle Game left, and there may even be Sink X itself, formerly holding Chip Shot, to complete the game.”

“But the X, the actual crossroads I mean, lies between Long Drive here and Middle Game, which I assume is a destination coming up shortly.”

“But first,” Buster clarified, “The X itself as you put it. Teebestia.”

“Cool.”

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grass talk

Buster knew she would be looking in through the secret window. Some called her Blurmaid, half blue, half (mer)maid. She was what Craighead Phillips dreamed about regularly in the aquarium at the center of the X, Maebaleia/Satori’s only true crossroads. And they *were* at one, as we, (the reader) and I, are. This is so top secret that I’m almost inclined to make the remainder of the posts of this current Collagesity novel private. I believe Buster Damm would feel more comfortable if this were so.

—–

“The X is a portal,” he spoke through the bamboo to his old friend Pitch, his best mate for, well, centuries I suppose. This is secret stuff between two old pals, old buddies. “You found the blue rose by the sign — you know that now.”

“Ahh, blue rose. Should’ve known.”

“Novalis, yes. But the blue rose is close yet again.” He peers at the door he cannot see through once more. “We are — being monitored,” he measured in his high pitched voice.

Pitch let this sink in before responding bassly from his reclining position. “Cathy A. I know about her and the blue rose that once was red. Like, er, Marcus Fox Smartville’s. What — happened to them?”

[delete 5 exchanges]

“We will compensate by editing…”

[delete 3 exchanges]

—–

Annaliza appeared from around the corner. “We have had enough of discussions today if you please. Mr. Pitch sir, you will follow me again to the pool room where we will talk more tomorrow. Mr. Dang, if you will excuse us.”

“Sure, sure.”

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(last?) straw

“Alright Mr. Pitch Darkly darling. You have suffered enough on the America’s flag. You are allowed to see Mr. Burster Dang in the bamboo park this morning.”

“*Finally* You hear that down there Mary?”

“I heard,” she gurgled upward.

—–

“So what gives, Burster? I mean, Buster?”

“Just lay there and don’t move. And talk *through* the bamboo as much as possible. The bamboo is sacred, the bamboo is healing.”

Pitch Darkly intuits he wants to add on something like, “All Hail the Wild Green Grass,” even if Buster doesn’t say it out loud. What made him think this? Then something else came in his mind. “Is — this an audition?” he asked.

Buster became even more serious. “Annaliza. Will you kindly leave Pitch and me alone for a moment.”

Annaliza hesitates, but then acquiesces, bowing deeply before departing in silence. Pitch wanted to shout, “Are you all right down there!” to Mary, but knew she couldn’t hear through the floor. She wasn’t allowed (again). This was very, very wrong.

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02

“Tell us about yourself — Elvis wasn’t it?”

“Black,” added Elvis, because he was. “Well, I liked books, no matter how dusty and boring. I’m a learned man. I enjoy truths over falsehoods. I don’t enjoy singing and dancing and womanizing as much as my white counterpart.” He turned the page, because he was reading and speaking at the same time. The word “white” had just been encountered. “That’s about all for now,” he said plainly.

Buster looked over at Bettie and raised his eyebrows. She knew what he was thinking and visa versa. This is Duncan again, playing some sort of trick on them. Or someone *through* Duncan playing a trick. But just because this was another black man…

Elvis Black changed. Duncan A. indeed.

“Do you know who I am yet?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0403, Omega^^, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

Rhodenwald

“The South was wrong, you know. Worshiping 2 dimensional cartoon people like Hatfield over 3 dimensional history and facts, no matter how dusty and boring.”

Bettie stopped swinging and looked over at still swinging Nancy, imagining a horn growing out the far side of her head for some reason. Then she attempted to synchronize with her again and soon they were side-by-side.

Bettie later brought the subject up to Buster, turning tiny herself in the meantime.

“I’m more focused on the sinks and Lemon vs. Lime.”

“Nancy says that’s related,” spoke Bettie across from him.

Buster sits up while looking in the distance. “Hold on. I think I see Duncan.”

But it was another Black Man. Duncan had been replaced.

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The B.’s

Buster Damm dared to take off a tiny bit of time from studying and scouting to bring our old friend Duncan Avocado into the picture. They sat in the same VHC City diner, in the same booth even where the original agreement was made. Duncan still wore the Pot-D heart-within-skeleton-hands pendant. Buster still knew where he was at any moment. “Sooo. Here we are, Duncan.”

“We are,” spoke Duncan plainly. He didn’t hesitate this time; he’d been around the cell block too many times in the meantime. “Whatever it is: yes.”

“Great!” Buster immediately spat in his hand and leaned forwards across the table. 5 minutes till sunrise…

—–

Duncan A. woke up in a captive position, but then stood up. No chains this time. Relief! He wipes his forehead of perspiration and looks around. Pipes. This must be Pipersville Buster talked about. He moves to the table on the far side of the room.

African-American nudie pic, he ruminates. Jim A.’s heartthrob, he understands, the thing that held *him* captive. What happened to her? he wonders, then turns. One way to find out. He ascends the stairs out of there and tries the door: unlocked. Still not a captive.

He opens the door. Music.


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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0014, 0603, Heterocera^^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^, VHC City^