Tag Archives: Charlene the Punk^^~

identifying the issue

“*Two* Beetles instead of 3 down the road now, Mr. Archer.”

Peet Archer considered requesting, “Peet please,” again, but decided against it. Toddles had somehow shrunk down to her “normal” diminutive size during the trip into the heart of this fine Canadian hamlet, warm on an early spring day. “Who have we lost this time?”

“Lennon, it appears. Must be the same, yes, as Lemon. The lemon tree went missing from Springfeld, Mr. Archer. Shelbyvale stole.” Toddles needed to rest her wee mouth again. She put her thoughts into Archer’s brain, as she did sometimes when this happened.

“So *what* is the equivalent to Shelbyvale for our Picturetown here?” he said. They both peered down the alley with Mary York at the increasingly diminutive skateboarder, almost out of sight now. Might as well say he’s gone. There: he’s gone.

Earlier:

“All blocked up, Mr. Archer. Someone has sealed off the passage to the interior, ‘X’ed it out in effect.”

“We didn’t come soon enough,” he said for her. “We better check the 102 alley for changes as well.”

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chameleon

“Her name is Sandy,” Camouflage responded about the white-ish squirrel cautiously approaching them. Sometimes she gave her acorns off another sim, an exotic dish. Squirrels don’t forget. “Like a pickle.”

“Pickle?” questioned Jeffrie Phillips by her side, out of his tuxedo and into his regular duds. This must mean it’s the present.

“You know, a sandy pickle, to contrast with a regular green one. An exotic pickle. Surely you have sandy colored cucumbers in your time period.”

“Time period?” Jeffrey Phillips questioned again.

—–

I’ll just skip to the part where they talk about the sim they’re in, and how it got its name. “Wabd,” responded Camouflage about an original appellation, as exotic as the white-ish squirrel approaching them again.

“Green Yard?”

“Green *Yarn.* And here we are. You must wake up again, and for real this time, Mr. Jeffrie Phillips. You are dreaming too much. You lay in your comfy bed with that woman who hasn’t been clearly identified and listen to that tv static and sleep sleep sleep. If you, say, got up in the middle of the night…”

“I don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I had an uncle who did that. Was into synchronicities. Said they were strongest in the middle of the night. I’d rather be blanketed in a bed of safe white tv static than deal with all that…” Should he say “nonsense” here? Pink Floyd? Bigfoot wearing a hot pink mini dress? It all didn’t add up. Except there *was* Charlene. “I think I’m ready to wake up again.”

“Good, cool,” responded Camouflage out of a permanently wine stained mouth shaped exactly like a regular glass of wine, Merlot most likely. “When you wake up, you’ll know who you’re with.”

Jeffrie Phillips was hoping now it was Charlene, although he guessed it wasn’t.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0213, End of Time^^, Green Yarn

Sanctuary

Maybe I just didn’t deserve Rose Heaven (I changed the name from Rosehaven because I didn’t think I deserved it). I will never live here, beyond that brief stay last winter. But…

… Murdoch’s castle remains, changed from an inferior product last year. Back to the more authentic original. Why? I sit on Dog Island with Wheeler-as-Charlene and ask her the same. “Goodbyes,” she replied. “And hellos”. Something else could happen here.

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forth

The next morning, Tickie finally caught up with Jeffrie Phillips, who was scared out of his wits at the events of the night before, damaged beyond repair even.

In the weakness and as a cure, Tickie *merged* with Jeffrie to become something else, unafraid of fear. A new superhero but hopefully not supervillian. Blue Thorn, perhaps the Blue Rose Thorn but with the Rose dropped because of fear of copyright infringement (see: Santman).

Blue Thorn looks around with new eyes for both, sensing that Knob Noster was not here in the Inbetweenland. Never mind Mr. Platinum/Operator/Undertaker/Zero Hero, because he was a different animal altogether. Blue Thorn could change back into Jeffrie Phillips (and Tickie, I suppose) after he had nabbed the similarly blue beast and brought him (or her) back home to mama (Charlene Brown the punk, who we know now is a type of bigfoot *herself*) for detailed study. She could finish her cryptozoology dissertation that way. She could become a doctor herself. Maybe then Jeffrie could find a way to finish off the other doctor he knew well, the one who could turn into a mouse (Pansy). It was all coming together if it wasn’t all falling apart. And actually it was both. The Blue Thorn stepped forward away from the now closed portal into the past.

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4th

I had to face the tiger head on.

Wheeler is Charlene is Her Majesty the Bigfoot!

One remained on the jigsaw pieces to our left, because there was only one left. Waiting for the snowman to turn orange again (it always did).

There (Wheeler joins the game).

Harrison just kept on dancing like a fool with his new mates behind the theatre. He was free!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0604, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, Marwood, NWES Island^

2(0)1

“Thanks for helping out, Charlene Brown.”

“I’m busy: but I’m here.”

“Okay, so there’s the two girls who must have seen Bart, yacking in front of the Giant Tiger painting. This would be caddy-corner to you standing at the intersection of, let’s see, Main and Elizabeth. Bart should be skateboarding by you right this instant.”

“I see nothing.”

“So let’s just swing the camera around and… Charlene? Where’re you going? Come back!”

I finally spot the pink dress wearing punk again just beyond the Rosehaven Yarn Shop, about to walk under the Regent Theatre marquee. But she’s way ahead of where she should be. Where’s she going?

“I see him Baker Bloch!” she suddenly exclaimed as I pull back beside her at Main and York.

Three Beatles were crossing the road in front of me and I knew this was a special, sacred spot.

“And that’s how Bart Smipson travels between Picturetown and NWES City,” I write in a letter later to Hucka Doobie. “Through that alley with the 102 graffiti. He’s indicating how he does it!” I sign my name with love and stick it in an envelope addressed to the White Palace.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0603, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, NWES Island^

Hideaway 02

“Thank Gods that shaking is finally over,” Charlene the Punk declared to Harrison Ford Jett, still with those apples. “Getting on my nerves sooooooo bad, arrgh.”

“The sim below Brodovima we’re in presently,” Harrison recites mechanically. “And an expression commonly used in the famous Peanuts comic strip.”

“Arrgh,” she exclaims again to something different now. “No it’s not. That was ‘aaugh’. I should know.”

“Right. Being Charles’ brother.”

“I’m technically still a Brown. Jeffrie and I aren’t married yet. We may not even be engaged — hafta check. But *you* — you’re different sir, different indeed. She looks at his face, and then down at the apples again still in place in the blouse-shirt. “You’re…”

“Don’t say it.” He looks at her own blouse. He’s guessed what he is. It changes.

Charlene drinks alone now. Maybe she should wander up to the bar and talk to The Mann, also drinking alone. Might be worth a try.

And this is how Fern met fellow shapeshifter Lichen, with Wendy still in the future.

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00230405

“Two pickles,” she explained later. “One yellow or sand colored: here. Then the one over there that’s more green.”

“Like my apples!” exclaimed listening and looking Harrison Ford Jett to her side in Spunky’s cafe down on the docks. Charlene’s home away from home, now that she’s in the thick of her dissertation. Detailed description of Knob Noster coming up next! Charlene looks over at her good friend Harrison, then down at his apples. Still in place. Still hasn’t been sold to the highest bidder.

“I suppose so,” she realized, and turned back to the girl holding the pickles in the doctored picture on her computer screen (she wants to be a doctor, after all). “But: sand. Sandman. The sandy pickle. That came first, although it was formed second.”

“What does that mean?” Harrison F. Jett instinctively held one of his apples then the other, as if testing they were the same. Then he turned red as a winesap as he realized Charlene noticed what he was doing. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Force of habit — I’ve been thinking a lot about them later. What it would be to be without them.”

“Well… maybe that fits into this as well.” She puts hand to chin while activating deep thinking mode. She scrolls to the next picture, undoctored this time. She’s losing vision of the future. Detailed description of “Knobby” will be difficult, nay impossible to achieve. She faces the prospect that it could be a stumbling block on her way to fame and glory.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0405, Bellisaria^^, Black Ice, NWES Island^

Pickle 02

“More Bigfoot art,” Harrison Ford Jett whispers in the waning light to no one except himself. “It’s all here.”

“A cave! Marked with green again. Pickle. Pickle Too. Let’s go!”

The underwater rock cavern was pretty long; about 200 meters.

More of that type of art? Harrison F. Jett found these identical, half filled bottles of unknown alcoholic content wedged together in a rock opening and was unable to move them.

The rocks holding the stash penetrated the roof of the cave, making a distinguished marker. Watch out passing Bellisarian ships!

The rocks even appear to have feet.

The man who was also an ant back at the Hideout said I knew Bigfoot. Something about my shirt… should be getting back to NWES City and meeting up with Charlene. Maybe she would have some ideas about what the odd superhero or supervillian or whatever he is, was talking about. He recalls she studies these type of things, and her dissertation she’s hard at work on late into the night is about a somewhat similar creature called the Loch Ness Monster. And she talks of another “monster” called Knobby (actually: Knob Noster, *not* Knob Monster!) — maybe that’s what her paper is about instead (he intuits in the cave, staring up at a rainbow hued crystal cluster in the ceiling).

At any rate, she certainly lives in the land of Paperville. Hmm, odd thought — where’d that come from?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0403, Bellisaria^^

character studies, Black Ice locations

Mary Pippins’ red umbrella and the Red Umbrella gallery

Bake’s Bakery (newly relocated!) with Barry X. Vampire and pretty Poetry Dancer

Zapppa’s apartment? (dreaming of that chick down there)

that chick down there — actually, those chicks, including the Her Majesty bigfoot/yeti in the doorway just down

Toddles roaming the mean streets of Black Ice at night again after drugging up her Grammy

Stumpy, the new bartender at Moe’s, smoking bong hit after bong hit while listening to noise rock with Gotham the psychedelic reggae monk. He’s got a head! He *is* a head!

Charlene Brown the punk working late night on her cryptozoology dissertation, unaware that off again on again boyfriend Barry X. Vampire Jeffrie Phillips is with Poetry tonight, the bastard

Melvin the devil boy offers a passing skateboarder some suspicious looking soup while half-sister Eldwina ponders her 1st assignment as an official member of the City Squad. Knew it! thinks full brother Judd from the stairs.

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