Tag Archives: DIAMOND

weight and purity (mystery continues)

In encroaching dawn, he looked over at the parcel that use to contain The Mission of town, employed as a portal by Mabel and others to transfer between here and Collagesity back in the days. He wondered what remained of Heartsdale to exploit character-wise and story-wise, but then remembered why he was sitting here in this throne-like chair. The Diamond.

At the same time, he was also in the wee garden against the far wall, raking weeds from a row of carrots. Mmmm, his favorite. Should be any day now…

I then counted them. They were exactly 24 in number, leading me to discover the difference between a carat and a karat.

He was also across the road playing another late Schubert piece as the ravens again gather in the tall church spires beyond the empty Mission lot.

Mid-Hazel has returned.

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Diamond of a case

“I don’t guess I’ll ever go back, Wheeler. It’s all too *embarrassing*.”

“Oh snap *out* of it. Let’s get some pictures of these blue buggers and get outta here.”

And next time we travel together brush your *teeth* why don’t you!”

——-

A mystery, Wheeler. One of the Blue Tinkers has disappeared while trying to open a Coke. This must be the work of…”

“*Peppi*” both exclaim together.

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Cassandra


‘”I come here as a representative of the great, honorable Blue Feather Douglas, Marcus Fox Smartville. Who do you represent?”

“Also the forces of good and evil,” Marcus shot back smartly. “Your Mama in my case.”

“*Your* Mama. Good enough I suppose. Anyway, let’s hash out a deal. And I don’t mean drugs.”

“Of course.” Smart again.

“I should apologize for my protege Eighty-eight not showing up. The astrologer gave her some bad news. Turns out — get this — the stars say she’s an *Aquarius*”.

“Oh.”

“The dreaded sign which seems to be water but is actually air. The most misunderstood of them all. I think the stress opened her up to that flu everyone ’round here seems to be coming down with.”

“You feel okay? Did the breakfast help any? Sometimes when I eat…”

“I didn’t eat,” she protested. “I *nibbled*. The only, real way to a really long life is nibbling. Full stomach foods will get you killed by the age of 88. Unless you’re mowed down by a gun earlier on. Like those people in Gunn City, Missouri, US of A. Now I  hate a vigilante as much as the next duchess or duke. I prefer corrections through verbal acerbity rather than, well, steel on bone.”

“I agree. Wholeheartedly. Pen over sword — that kind of thing.”

“The tongue is mightier than the quill,” Tracy Austin (Wheeler Wilson) fleshed out. “Nothing like a good tongue lashing (for corrections). You should know all about that.”

Marcus Fox Smartville sticks out his tongue here, revealing the diamond inlaid steel ring piercing it. “Sthiny,” he says while his tongue is still projecting, also pointing to the object. Not so smart now. Something is actually quite wrong with the male in the current post. He had a breakdown in his early twenties and some say his mind hasn’t quite recovered, and that he’s actually more sucker than smart. Like Sunklands Sucklands sucker, reading patterns (synchronicity) where they don’t exist (randomness). Your Mama thinks this. And, behind her, Grey Scale Kimball, who they needed to talk about next.

“Why didn’t you say you represented Grey Scale Kimball instead?” asked Tracy Austin on cue, indicating the house around them. Grey’s House.

I can answer that. Because Kensington’s Turtle Hill, aka The Green Turtle, had been skipped over. Negotiations concerning the War of Aggressions have moved to Cassandra City in the Deep South, where correct history will always place them. Corrections again… tongue lashing. Your Mama gave Marcus Fox Smartville an earful on that hill. He wonders when the smarting will stop. Not here for certain. Not in this Deep South residence.

(to be continued?)

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Rest

—–

“*We* could have given him riches,” protesteth Jeffrie Phillips back in Teepot. “Jewels, diamonds, the lot.”

Peter pauses. “You did.”

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Diamond

“God help our user Baker B. to finish up part 06 of this Collagesity graphic novel. God help Dixon Too find Dixon One and bring him home safe from the mountain darkness. God help Brother Oden’s possession and make it easier on him by intense — intensi-fying his artistic talents. And last (Snowwhite Well stares over), God help Aunt Emerald to find the courage to carry on despite over*whelming* odds.” Snowflake Well unclasps her hands, proudly rises from the prayer ottoman. “And that’s it, teehee.” She curtsies sweetly with this.

“Please,” a studying Emerald insists. “Call me Maw. One of my boys — maybe both my boys — will soon be your husband, with one or both of their seeds insides ya.”

“I can feel it,” suddenly gasps Snowwhite Well. “From the future!”

“Nice. This town can do that to ya. Horrible urban planning with the split down the middle and all. But there’s advantages to schizophrenia. Don’t do my Dixons no wrong.”

“Maw,” she reinforced. “I can *feel* it.” She rubs her belly, even lifts her top a bit. “Right here in my navel.” She circles her stomach with an index finger. “Is — is it still there? I can’t see in this light.”

“Yes, it’s there,” coos Emerald, not a lesbian but still admiring. “Snowwhite, I’m not sure how Dixon One *ever* left you here with that thing glinting far and wide. He must be blind toward it.”

“And now… Dixon Too must follow. Reborn Duncan must be found and returned to his rightful place. Dixie.”

“Better quarantine you two lovebirds a bit before the departure.

“And lower your top back.”

“Yessum.”

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show i can all

Old Reading Man and Little Reading Light were the first to arrive, and, big surprise, each whipped out a book from their deep pockets and began reading.

What LRL was scanning had more to tell. St. Croix’s Diamond Keturah, but the Keturah was missing. A seismic activity earlier in the day had temporarily erased it from the island’s map. But the name would return soon enough. Such things always do.

Later, Biker Jones and Ranger Johns guarded the entrance to the meeting room, keeping out riff raff like the “reading twins” as they jokingly called them. “This is an *action* room,” they said to Old Reading Man and Little Reading Light after arriving themselves, telling the the two to remain sitting in their seats and just keeping on doing what they’re doing and stay out of it.

Meeting room. Action galore. Tronesisia led the charge, but many more straggled in between 7:47 and 8:01, with Carrcassonnee the last to arrive, saying she’ll just, “squeeze her big butt in against the wall over here,” as she put it. So: Carrcassonnee lives!

Others present, going counterclockwise from Tronesisia: (floating) Wyn Galbraithe from Lapara, Cardboard Derek Jones (no relation to doorman Biker Jones that I know of), Redbot, Old Man Baby…

…. and then, continuing to circle around, Carrcassonnee, whom we’ve spoken about, then, er, I guess that’s Doogie Martin (?), then Grey Seal who just wallowed out of the nearby sea to join in, then Furry Karl (another resurrection?!), and then a figure most commonly called Pietmond Boy in the blog, I believe.

Let’s pause here before continuing the character introductions to gander at two art pieces on the wall, the first hung directly behind the seated Pietmond Boy. It might be familiar to regular blog readers, being, at the base, the same as the famous painting “My First Sermon” by John Everett Millais, mentioned in Martin Gardner’s “The Annotated Alice” as probable direct inspiration for Tenniel’s illustration of Alice riding in a train in chapter 3 of “Through the Looking Glass”.

But there’s some twists here. Parts of what appears to be *another* picture bleed through around the edges in mysterious, blobby patches. We see the image of several ducks — or at least their heads — just behind or beyond the seated girl, for instance.

And then on the opposite side of the door from this, a now sideways Bunneh 02 and his egg and candle holding cushion cover up what appears to be another figure, perhaps from a bathing beauty poster, say, like in a mechanic’s garage.

Then continuing our introductions, we have Ben Thar (Mr. Bean cutout, actually) beside the Bunneh 02 art, then Bluebot (counterpart to Redbot across the room), then Second Lyfe founder Philip Linden standing behind Tronesisia in the corner, and lastly Ross C., another robot who may be a servant or some equivalent to the central Tronesisia.

Out in the hallway, yet another robot, named Claude — a golden hued geezer made in ’25 — attempted to do the unspeakable to same just before the meeting (about 7:47). To excuse him *just* a bit, he *does* remember Tronesisia from Bennington when she was a mere pleasurebot and not the important and distinguished Collagesity novel character she’s known as today. But at any rate — and very justly of course — he was then promptly banned from the Meeting Room by Tronesisa who obviously spurned his advances. Get to reading the Collagesity graphic novels, Claude! Tronesisia has come a long long way from where she use to be back in those dark days.

Claude was only there because his perpetually smoking and toking brother Punky was acting as receptionist for the gathering out on the front porch. Claude had to drive his sibling around since he lost his feet in that rabbit tossing accident in ’92.

Punky was also known for his womanizing ways, and, similar to his brother, made little to no attempts at hiding it. Many times they had fought over the same “floozy dame”, as they sometimes labelled them.

In yet another room of the house, Original Eve (still macabrely clutching her dead child Oliver), Pigpen from the Grateful Dead, and couch sitting Norris/Harry waited for their chance to join in. It never came.

Nor did it for the 3d Venuses who just showed up at 8:15 with *way* too many friends and were barred from these kind of meetings for life.

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