Tag Archives: Foxtrot^^+!

August 31, 2021 · 7:13 am

red all over

The door to the bar was a decoy — sent visitors upstairs to another bar devoid of animations and life in general. Except for constantly humming Hurley. Let’s shorten it to Hummy. The bird.

“Where IS HE????” demanded the Heart Queen after teleporting up. The future was still the present, which means Guy was still successfully hiding in the past immediately below, purchased identity holding. Too bad she’d never learned to play croquet or things could have worked out differently for her. It could have relaxed her, taken her down a different path. And indeed, that’s the queen Fish Head and Guy knew (in the past). A kinder gentler one, a sympathetic sort.

“Have a Bloody Mary, Queen,” trilled the humming bird. “Let’s talk.”

The queen was surprised she could sit down despite the lack of animations. It didn’t bother Hummy, since he was a flier not a sitter. He expertly blended a tomato with celery and spice. He mixed in the liquor. It was ready.

One sip and she started to remember, heart of ice melting. She recalls Broken Heart. The spell was over.

She began to dance again.

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August 31, 2021 · 7:03 am

Bar None

He ran.

—–

“It’s good you changed shirts and came here, Guy. She won’t look here: too far in the past.”

He wanted to say that he didn’t change his shirt he merely added another one on top of the first but just thanked his lucky stars it worked anyway. Now he could talk openly about the Heart Queen with his old friend Fish Head, the one who he could depend on to give him directions when he got lost. Which was a *lot* here.

“Who is she?” he asked, heart still thumping from all the excitement.

“Goes by Helen.”

Helen, Guy pondered. Like Troy. Destroyer of Men.

“What happened to Feng Sui and Qi?”

“Gave up the store. Left town.” Guy knew Fish Head was talking about Store Zero, where it all started and revolved around and shite. Murderous past. Which was, again, present. But he had no real choice. He had to escape (!). Gunshots outside. He’ll have to get use to it, he figured.

“And the uncles?” Two more shots, then a scream. Then quiet (for a while).

“One remains.” But Fish Head didn’t reveal which one. Could be Jack. Could be John. He didn’t have the guts to open that door and find out — the body could be slumping right against it; spill into the establishment and cause a bloody mess he’d have to clean up. And he’d lost his mop, dangnit. Probably stolen (again!) by the Mopheads down in Ragtown, the bloody gang. Maybe them outside right now, causing all this commotion. The Heart Queen had hidden him but for how long? It was up to her to open the door — not him.

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August 31, 2021 · 6:04 am

not (yet) blinded

“I’d like an identity, please.”

—–

He manifested in an apartment formerly occupied by sisters named Feng Sui and Qi. Was he sufficiently hidden?

No. “Who are you?” asked the lady in red who had just entered the room. He’d been caught!

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January 15, 2021 · 6:33 am

no one noticed any difference (animation)

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January 11, 2021 · 9:33 am

“Downfall”

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January 6, 2021 · 10:04 am

00240202

Wendell “Biff” Carter was going to run away as far as possible, leaving danger and possible death behind. But he stops when he sees the red dress. He hovers over it. Phyllis, he realizes. He turns toward the hangout. She must be inside. In danger!

But the red dress was actually Phyllis’ co-worker Wanda’s who’s the sister-in-law of Philburg’s 2nd cousin Ethel. Philburg’s revenge continues into yet another post, and perhaps yet another and another. This goes beyond danger into the great beyond. If only he could smell the cat stench all about the place. Soap, the new, extra gritty stuff bought at the local Hurdy Gurdy to wash out all the crime stains.

Orkley Andy had stopped shooting a while back, with everybody dead that was hot on his trail. In this way he snuck up on Biff. He looked over, understanding the red dress bait had glued him to the spot, heh heh heh. He laughs aloud: “Heh heh heh.”

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December 24, 2020 · 10:14 am

pansies

“You’re one of our most trusted contacts, Bella.”

“Sandy here, YUCK. Sandy *Squirrel*. I’m a squir-rel, HO.”

“Right, right. You’re a squirrel here. You’re name is Sandy. *Not* Bella.”

“That’s right. And I can’t breath, HUH HUH HUH (pants). See? I just removed my helmet and the atmosphere’s plain POISON. It’s like I took a red pill, a blue pill, and then turned into a COW, hehe.”

“I don’t get it. Anyway…”

“It’s that old saying,” she explained with another chuckle, still without helmet. “‘And on the FIFTH day… wait, And SO on the FIFTH day…”

“Right, right. I get it. You’re a cow.”

“I’m NOT a cow. Becauuuuse… I didn’t take the *pills*. I didn’t become Phyllis. I h’ain’t no channeler, see. I’ll leave that up to…”

“Phyllis?” I interrupted. I didn’t see the connection between pills and Phyllis yet. I could tell I upset Sandy/Bella by interrupting her. Me and my big mouth. I think of the calming blue pills in my pocket that could slow me down. Getting anxious. I reach; try to disguise to Bella/Sandy what I’m doing. Cartoon-like, she begins to imitate me; reaches into her own pocket on her astronaut suit or whatever the heck she’s wearing.

“I got some TOO, and I bet they h’ain’t the same color, HO.”

Synchronized now, I pull out two, she pulls out two. I figure out the Phyllis-pills connection. Together we could do each other in. She reaches over with one and I do too. We exchange. We swallow.

—–

We’re in a different place altogether, staring at trash that also isn’t trash with TILE channeler Phyllis and revived lady of the night Sammie Parr. It was all a dream.

—–

Tickie comes back from the bathroom. “Where’d they go?” On his own now, he became even slightly more blue but it would take a while.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0610, Bellisaria, Black Ice, Four Corners, NWES Island, Pickle 01, Pickle 02

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December 16, 2020 · 7:33 pm

rose hips

Sammie Parr visits the Red Umbrella and has a hard time understanding.

—–

“I do kind of like this piece,” she says to her devoted boyfriend of 4 years walking in from an adjacent room on the 3rd and last floor of the gallery, one Richmond Petersburg of Norfolk Virginia, out on leave from the navy.

“Art… like me.” She laughs at her mistake, perhaps a Fraudian slip. “I mean, *red* like me. The Art word.”

Richmond comes beside her and also studies from across the rail. He has an eye for detail. “Like the jigsaw piece as well, honey, the one at the top sort of holding the other 3 up.” He points. “The blue, the green, the yellow. It’s like they’re, I don’t know, being drug through the air. Airborn: yes, that’s it.”

Big nosed Achilles T. Pippins studying the next collage over suddenly sneezes and everyone in the gallery and more becomes infected. Stay safe out there!

—–

Later in the hospital, Achilles sees this same collage “open up” for him (as best it could) and he is able to pass the red woman attracting his attention so much before right up. Higher goals he has now! The gates swing wide.

Devoted wife of 40 years Mary Pippins is inconsolable (*sniff*).

Sammie Parr and Richmond Petersburg are fine and have forgotten all about meeting schnozzle cursed Achilles in the gallery. “I like your red outfit,” he said before parting.

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September 7, 2020 · 9:59 am

Dreamer 02

He met her in the club beside baker b.’s Red Umbrella gallery and in front of Norm the Cashier’s flower shop. In his dream he followed her down to a beach at the enigmatically named Publius sim. She was wearing a red dress, a freebie in a box as Graham 02 or Barry 02 soon discovered at the end of the path. Later the red (box) was removed at a club in Montague owned by a big fan of Supertramp. Red strip: now he knew what that meant. He can imagine Norm shaking her head. He better get back to her. If only he could figure out a way to wake up — pinching doesn’t work here.

—–

She was shaped like the letter Q, a hole with a squiggle on the edge,” he grasps for an explanation after finally coming back. “That’s me!” Norm doesn’t approve and threatens to cut off his credit. “Do you know how much I sacrificed to get to this place?!”

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August 19, 2020 · 9:13 am

“Triumph of the Toys”

“And something about *this* one. That man at the top with the flowy hair.”

“All right, child. I’ll mark it down for later inspection. Here, let me take another snapshot with my phone.”

Alice Farrowheart again wonders briefly if pictures are allowed in the gallery but reinforces to herself that she doesn’t care. The study of *synchronicity* trumps all, since it is a bridge-maker. Important term, and one she’s been using a lot in her journal lately. The Little Book of Synchronicities. She’ll worked on it when she gets back to the apartment. Along with playing with the belt again, hehe. She’s been experimenting for days.

“We’re done, Gramma. That’s the last.”

“Good job. Let’s go home.” Alice wishes they could take the subway back but knows that’s a way off. Walking is good for the soul, though. The belt can wait.

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