“Ahh. A nice hot coffee before a nice hot fire. Doesn’t get any better than this in Our Second Lyfe, Robot Derak Jones. But take a seat.”
“I’m glad you found your hearing aid and stopped yelling, Pencil.” He remained standing. His hemorrhoids were acting up again.
“Me too! I mean: me too.”
“You are truly David now.”
“Well,” adds Eraserhead Man. “I’m a giant pencil pretending to be David Lynch for the purposes of this story. Novel 8 is it?”
“That’s right, EM.”
“Kids couldn’t stay around a while longer? I kind of miss them since they left, what was it, this afternoon?”
“It was a sudden departure,” agrees Robot Derak Jones in his metallic, echoed tone. “They found a house on the other side of the island. Baker Blinker had it in her inventory. That’s the core avatar for Karl.”
“I know who Baker Blinker is,” declares Eraserhead Man. He sips his coffee, then smacks his lips pleasingly. “I understand they found out that Karl is blue. Blue Rose Case, of course.”
“That’s why you’re here.”
—–
“Well… let’s see what *this* does.” Eraserhead Man abruptly throws the contents of his cup into the fire. Both watch as someone else forms in the room.
“Look at that, Robot. A demon. How about that? A flamey little fire demon. What’s your name, little fellow?”
“Gus,” came a small answer from the fireplace after a pause.
Eraserhead Man turned to his friend Robot Derak Jones. “Gus, he said, Robot.”
An erratic wind began to blow outside. One might say it was gussing if they had the guts.
Sunklands 