Tag Archives: Dr. Mouse^*+++++$

June 1, 2023 · 2:49 pm

Vowells

And so they were wedded that June. Something about substance over style in the vows. Something about quantity over quality. Substance and quantity over style and quality? Something was wrong here, really wrong. What does this wedding have to do with Constantynople, our newly minted darling of the blog? And why do we have the returned, purple gowned Wheeler in Alpha with Baker Bloch? Marriage of convenience? Let’s back up, have them eat those words for now…

We are at the end of 32, sliding into 33. Wheeler wasn’t joking. She’d won the Tic-tac-toe game fair and square. “We will be married to each other and also the town,” he now recalled about what she said at the grated white table in Ontario above the completed board, food shunted aside for the moment. Town, he contemplated. Wrong one. *Really* wrong one. He was falling into a pit, deep and dark and dank and dingy. 4D. No returning to kaput Ontario to the scene of the crime. We’d have to resolve this situation elsewhere. He lost his hat.

Someone stirred in the blue and yellow glowing teepee.

Fall over, Pitch Darkly stepped out of his dark (etc.) house and into the blinding white light. “Hey you blippity bleep bleep kids stop playing around with that statue!” he cried from the porch.

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December 30, 2022 · 11:52 am

numbers

He thought about Back as he lay on his back and she turned her back to him.

“Where are we on The Moon again?” she asked dreamily while studying, lingering effects of the box.

George/Musician sighs. “We’re not *on* The Moon, Shelley. We’re in… Mortons Gap. I think. At least the Ant Castle, old style, is playing on a continual loop on our TV over there.” Ropes, George/Musician thought. Aah the good old days when marriage meant something and everyone knew their place.  He sat up.

Back ruined all that, pheh. Better get back to it while I have time. 7:04AM. Soon it will be 5.

Yeah, there it is. Too late. Next! (as Wheeler might say)

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December 10, 2022 · 4:36 pm

00360109

The Nautilus map in my skybox is lighting up again. Jem’s Dodgey City in the northeast corner, along with neighboring Blacking where Midge critically observed it across the water from her colorful beach towel. Yd Island and Darla and her Umbrella Club to the southeast, also observed from a distance by prevert Albert. Then Fordham in the lower center, the old Collagesity location which is now surprisingly acting as a hideout of some kind for Franklin aided by greenie friend Apples and the sentient tree known as Unch — you remember Unch don’t you? From the Rubi Forest? Think back. And then in the center center that mysterious place known as Perch-Mistletoe where we also see Franklin, this time interacting with Albert directly but who then turns into or reveals himself as Baker Bloch instead, with Franklin likewise realizing she’s Wheeler Wilson. The 2 main core avatars of my blog and attached photo-novels in other words, the great male-female (or female-male) duality. What it all revolves around. Then in the main arm of the Starfish Lake or Sea to the northwest of that we have Dr. Mouse’s practice which Albert also visited and turned into a baby apparently, a symbol of rebirth. Another pin is lit up beside it but we can’t speak of that yet. Place called Dub — displaced actually. To this couch so we can talk with him/it.

Another form:

Another:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dub,_Arkansas

Then moving to the west and the south again, directly below Dodgey City we have another mystery area centered by a place called the Art Box which we’ve visited several times before in our blog chronicled journeys, and which will surface again soon in relation to the missing file or files mentioned by Midge. Then to finish up for now, in the north central, we have the location of the map itself, my Lebettu Castle on Rooster’s Peninsula, my new home as of the middle of photo-novel 33 back in the late spring now. It’s been a perfect match so far. There’s no question I had to downsize.


Collagesity back in the days

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December 9, 2022 · 7:05 am

00360108

After finding out which one, Dr. Mouse has him lay on a gurney ready to go deeper into the bowels of the place.

“All the way back, Mr. Johnston,” Nurse Porcupeople urged. “I have you.”

“Wheel him away,” said Mouse, studying the newest form and seeing it is good. Ready for delivery.

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December 9, 2022 · 6:30 am

restored/inside

“Sorry about the hole, Mr. Johnston.”

“Please. Call me Albert,” insisted the tall, black clothed man sitting before him, seeing each other not quite eye to eye like before but getting there. He wanted to make sure he was up close and personal with the troubled man, try to soothe his rather frayed nerves. Yes, Albert had issues. He moved from behind the desk to here, perched before him like another one of his birds.

“I have to separate the wheat from the chaff,” he explained, gazing into his face from slightly above. “As you probably noticed, all I have out there waiting any more are dummies, complete idiots.” Mouse looked down, trying to phrase his frame of mind in a more polite way. “I don’t have time for that any more,” he said, deciding to end that way. Albert’s turn now.

“I… understand?”

“You’re a real life person in this afterlife sort of situation. I appreciate that. You are tall but you can become quite small. That proves you are human. More effective than picking out chimneys on a house or signs on a road. This is not the DMV if you see what I’m saying.”

“Understand… I?”

“Yes, I know how you feel, I certainly do.” Mouse rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as he sometimes does to impress a client, especially an important client like this. Albert was here to talk about the girl: he knew that. But which one?

(to be continued)

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December 9, 2022 · 5:47 am

2nd crowd

He looked in on the proceedings with his 2 hats and his 2 perching birds, thinking: busy, good. That means the doctor, the practice is good. Here’s someone I can talk to and learn meaningful stuff from, this Mouse fellow. Never mind the failed Pooping Pigeons franchise, he follows. A bad businessman does not make for a bad something else.

He steps inside, jumps ahead of everyone else knowing they wouldn’t mind. He’s just that important.

The door was locked. The only way in, it appeared, was through this hole at the bottom. Luckily Albert brought his own Mouse costume, except his was a rat, small enough to get away with the deception and do the job. Mouse was just finishing up with another one, synchily enough. Rat named Map who use to be a member of a gang called Willard.

“Come in, big man,” he squeaked up to high-as-a-kite Albert. “If you can make it.”

“Oh I can,” he boomed down. Map Rat disappeared. Albert took his place.

(to be continued)

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November 29, 2022 · 5:14 pm

00350707

It was at the end and not the beginning but the marriage finally came through.

“Do you have a problem with this?” Newt ask in a low voice as the I do’s were being said. “Speak now, you know.”

“Why would I have any problems with this?” said Wheeler back. “Shelley would just run around with other men behind his back if she married George. This way she’ll be happy. Or at least have a chance to be.”

“Do you, Shelley, take Lemont slash Arthur…”

“And there’s always Liz,” whispered Newt.

“Yes.”

“Should we end there? Again?”

“Why not.”

“You may kiss the bride.”

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2022 LATER”!

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December 18, 2021 · 8:34 am

another one?

“Why aren’t you guys sitting across from each other still? *Anyway*, we know the Anomaly is the same as this beanstalk being mentioned around this here town, Paper-Soap still, despite the attempts at division. It doesn’t jam our systems any longer — a situation we should toast to sometime (come to think of it) — but its presence is still around.” Goober gobble. “Reports now. Whatcha got Agent 47?” he speaks to the closest one. “Er, 23,” he adjusts, seeing a hair on the upper lip. Male this one is. The other: female, despite the baldness and otherwise seeming identicalness. More experiments of The Mouse.

“We’re monitoring situations of a bust,” he metered out crisply, almost like a robot but without the needed metallic squeaking of the inner mechanics. Like with the Claudes. “A painter. Paper.” He glances over at Agent 47, noting the hairless lip and the current desire to kiss it. When did these feelings start for 23?? He guessed that birthday party. Where they summoned The Devil again, pheh.

“A ring,” continued 47 on the same case. “Within…” he looked back.

“… a ring,” completed 23 for him, contemplating whether to blow him (*a kiss*!).

“So you’re saying to me, people, that this bust involves a ring (*brinnng*). And not only that, another ring within that ring? (*brinnngg*). How deep are we?”

The phone rings for the third time at the far end of the table. It’s one of the Claudes, which is always bad news.

Jim walks in (*brinnng*). “I’ll get it.”

“NOOOOOO!!!”

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December 18, 2021 · 6:42 am

Paper… Soap

An expert at 4 was called in to help with the transition from whole to half: Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, last seen wheeling this dark baby around NWES City over on the Jeogeot continent one last time before putting it in storage. Stored no more; out and about again. Thanks to Zoidboro and the magically pronounced words.

Mr. Yellow glances in at the *plant* sitting beside him in the yellow chair, the cheese being also known as Marilyn but seldom seen in that guise except for the gifted of sight. She’d even given him back his attached rats to make him pure rabbit again, although he didn’t know it in the moment. He talks to his supervisor via phone. Dr. Mouse. Dr Mouse? Yes. Dr. Mouse.

“Good, good,” he says about the setup over at the new rental beside the old parsonage Zoidboro was kicked out of just yesterday’s today’s tomorrow. He knew now he was (also) fully back to life. He imagined he could throw a stone from his asylum and it would hit the roof, perhaps rolling down to knock his agent on the head. In fact, I think he went up to his own roof to gauge if this were actually possible. Let’s take a pic of it.

No: a bit too far still; trees kind of in the way. He can’t help but point with his cane at what irritates him presently, old habits dying hard.

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November 30, 2021 · 9:33 am

00300314

Ah yes, much better match. Even if she did wear an ill fitting mask. He’d give her a lecture later on, after they knew each other a little better. Ah, heck. He’ll do it now. It’s the holiday season after all. She’s trying. She won’t be offended, he figures.

“Phyllis?” he starts.

“Berta, actually. Remember? Phyllis is my twin sister.”

Shoot. Wrong holiday girl after all. Back to the drawing board.

“It’s okay,” she says to the obviously downcast Chet. “We’re really clones, you know,” she confesses. “Basically one and the same. We just use the sister story to throw the police off the track of…” She hesitates. She doesn’t know him well enough to talk about Dr. Mouse yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.

(to be continued)

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