Tag Archives: Domino^*+++++%%

00470412 (the great 100,000 book library in de skies)

“Lou, dearest,” he whispered over. “Buy your old man a can of soda while he’s busy studying will ya?”

“Sure thing Daddy. What’ll it be? Kolya? Pepi? Maybe even a bottle instead of a can?”

“Shhh, babydoll,” he said to her louder voice, finger over lips to reinforce his point. “Keep it down. Other people are studying here besides me.”

“And me — just sitting here twiddling my thumbs,” she responded in turn, tone not much softer than before. “Wishing there was an actual town again to visit while you read these old dusty things.” She became curious. “What’d you finding anyway? You mentioned a MOA or something or another.”

“Most Ancient One, yes,” he hissed, finger pressed against lips again. “Right underneath the library here, I’m speculating. That *whole town* you’re after. Files within!” Oh GOD. He shouted he was so excited. And now the whole rest of the library is staring. He waves at all of them, trying to indicate he’s sorry and that the outburst was just a slip-up.

Right through that Big Red Machine there it is, though. The secret passage. ‘Nother one.

He could walk through…

… and be in a different world altogether. And so it was.

“Ahh yes, thanks Lou,” he said after carefully popping the top and taking a sip. “Hits the spot.”

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00470115

“Oh shoot, Hucka,” Marion says at the door, peering in. “No seats together left up front. We’ll have to sit on the couch further away from the stage.”

“Fine with me!” she responded, knowing the hips did their job on the way over. They’d pay more attention to cuddling than comedy this night fer sure. Besides, they watch this act every Wednesday rain or shine, know every line that’s going to be uttered. Firesign Theatre: the house group at Gaston’s downtown Rhino. Unless it’s uptown. We’ll see.

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00400410 (the tall and short of it)

“Alright, alright. I’ll go over and talk to him. Just stop the screaming.”

Ozzie Osbourne walked out of Gaston’s Rhino Club with more information than when he came in. He had to go back to Meat City to perform. Wise if reluctant spiritual advisor Hucka Doobie told him why. Blocked!

Changing its color from gold to silver after going through the Mimosa portal, the VW bug pulled up on the sidewalk just outside. They spotted Osbourne and Osbourne spotted them but he just kept on walking. He had no need to talk to ones luckier than him. “A gig!” Ketchup Tom messaged Marsha “Pink” Krakow back in Big Sandy, who drove her car to get there since the punk was car-less, not even a drift conquering dune buggy to his name. The small vehicle was jammed full of guitars, speakers, drums, microphones, so on, with barely enough room left over for driver and passenger. They were talking all the time over of stardom and success and making it big. The sight of Ozzie Osbourne exiting the bar doubled this down.

—–

The noise of the resulting gig was too much for Hucka Doobie, who moved outside to stare at the bug they came in, wondering if it was the same she’d seen in (Meat City?) behind the strip mall. The mayor’s daughter, she recalled, busted for drugs and imprisoned in Rockaway Beach Prison for, what was it, 40 days? Or maybe 40 years? Anyway, they turned her into a doll and that was that so this couldn’t be the same gal. Could it? Hucka Doobie ponders possibilities and impossibilities while listening to the end of “Fire Ants,” transitioned expertly into the follow up but lesser hit “Water Uncles.” Then Marsha’s part of the gig kicked in, starting with a cover of “I will Survive” by 70s pop star artist Gloria Gaynor. Relieved the noise had died down, Hucka Doobie breaks her stare from the car and heads inside again. She needed to find out the truth (“Rockaway Beach” now). She’d made way for these up and comers by telling one of the biggest stars on the planet that his stint was cancelled here in Gaston — just walked out, huffing and puffing, blown away that some small fry, backwater place could do this to him (“Crazy Train”). And he was only here as a favor to an old friend, another “Oz” mate. A Daredevil some called him. Death of a cook. The gig was suppose to be for her. And, turned out, it was (transfigured “Jackie Blue”).

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blue place

“My aunt.” “No, *my* aunt.”

She/he went from the cross…

… to The Cross.

Page’s convincing portrayal of the “church lady” image of Aunt Esther was in marked contrast to the “blue” material of her stand-up act and record albums.

“What can I say, that’s my aunt.” “No it’s *not* (pause) Okay, yes it is. But…” “But what?”

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familiar faces (mowing on)

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you got it: maps again

“A message to all my fans out there. Some like their Pink hot.”

—–

“This will never work, Elberta,” Toothpick states at another low point. “You’re so beautiful and I’m so… ugly. Never mind the whole brother-sister…”

“I’m going to stop you there, potential husband of mind. No, better, I’m going to *absorb* you. I want to see what happens.”

Toothpick/Filbert was at a low point, as stated. He had nothing to lose. “Take me.”

—-

“He must never find you, Ross C. He’ll destroy our little square world if he does and make everyone in it miserable.”

“Happy (*zip*) unhappy,” she sputtered.

There’s only one way out. *Become* the world, see. See me in him and him in me.”

Robot from the future Ross C. saw the truth in it.

—–

Hotgirl was freed from Misery Cabin but was unable to speak about her experience there for a while.

Old reality was flickering on and off.

She eventually made her way back to GASTON.

—–

“What we *need* to do,” old companion Domino told Hotgirl Hitgirl Hitgerl Hitgurl Hitgal while they watched piled up house band Firesign Theatre play for the 4th time tonight at the Rhino, “is to similarly change *Misery*… to *Mystery*. That’s what [delete name] indicates.”

“Shuts your trap.” But the seed had been planted.

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rhode crossing

The house seemed empty. But it had a portal room.

In the thin woods eyes were watching.

Or not.

Maybe 1/2 and 1/2.

We should walk back to GASTON.

.daor eht ssorc mih gnihctaw ,nacnuD desserpmi na denipo ”,onimoD ,naem uoy tahw ees I“

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Two

“What else do you want, Domino? Audrey will be here any time now!”

“You got to go cold turkey on the turkey,” is all his nephew had to say about his supplier showing up soon. “If you lay down the needle then you’ll hear the music like I hear the music, the voices, the… ‘Everything’!”

“Still babbling on about Firesign Theatre, pheh — The *Bill*. And don’t you *dare* call me dadd-i-o (again).”

“I — wasn’t. I just want you to listenn. It’s the one after the ‘Giant Rat’ thing you didn’t like before. You haven’t heard this yet. I think you’ll like.”

Domino lays down the needle.

—–

45 minutes later, Audrey shows up with the junk. Sometimes lover Zach Black greets her with a beaming smile. “Girl, you’re just in time. We’re ready for a re-listen!”

“Great.” She lays down the supply on the bed and settles back for a long one.

“Did you know a cave is just a hole turned on its *side*?” Zach continues excitedly. “Imagine that. You gotta listen to this honey. Lay down that needle again, Domino.”

“Sure thing dadd — man.”

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hiding

“So where would you like to go Ms. Tanner?”

Nipsie Tanner looked around the room. “Oh (*sigh*), I don’t know. Just away from — here.” She points. “How about that middle one over there.”

“Middle one it is.” George V. Norris gives her a ticket to ride.

—–

“Welcome, dad-i-o.”

—–

Aah. This is the *life*, she thinks later by the “Black Side” pool. Tomorrow I will go check out the local police station; see how it measures up.

She couldn’t help mixing business with pleasure.

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Star

“What’s back here, then?”

“Oh, nothing. Just an alley,” answered Domino, showing the tall, swarthy man around the gas station his uncle owned.

The stranger peers out. “Oh, I think it’s much more than an alley.”

“In its day, maybe. The Dark Days.” Satan Days, Domino thinks to himself, not wanting to say the word aloud.

The stranger knocks on the door, testing its solidity. “No eyes on this one as far as you can tell?”

“Nope,” clipped Domino, thinking how lucky they could limit themselves to one door for such a profitable establishment. Karma indeed.

“Listen, er, stranger.” Domino was trying to prompt for a name again. And failing again. “Um, my uncle won’t be back today. Like I said, *he’s* the owner. He’s the one you should be talking to. Not me.”

“That’s fine,” replied the dark man plainly, implying that he was okay with just talking to Domino now. Was Domino being played? Was he *in play*?

Marion Harding shuts the door, turns around, crosses his arms. “Tell your uncle that I’m interesting in buying this joint. Tell him — money is not an option.”

“Er… do you mean that money is not an issue? That’s great, er, but Uncle Zach, I’m sure, isn’t selling.” Then Domino realized he might be wrong. Why was the stranger here in the first place?

“I said what I said,” reinforced Marion. “Tell your Uncle Zach exactly what I just told you. Understand?”

“Sure, sure.”

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