Tag Archives: Fran/Frankie/Brown/Beige^^~~!

X-man

It’s time you learned the ties of TILE to the Korean Channel, young Kola.”

“Kolya, actually,” the young man, perhaps the young apprentice corrected. He turned to the red clad guy on the mat beside him at the pit fire. “Who are you, sir — really? I know you’re Santa and all but that’s just a costume, a disguise even, if you will.”

The man dressed as Santa chuckled with this, jovial in the moment. “I will call you Pepi Kola you young jokester. See, Pepi? The sacred islands spread out before you from this viewpoint. And it has a heart, a Sacred Heart.” He now looks up in the sky, channeling a trance it seems. “Pink is still with us,” he speaks after a pause, fire crackling louder before them. “And Brown… they haven’t left this plane yet.” He stares back at the sea, at the islands, at the *center*. “Resolution.”

“Well, that’s great and all — I don’t know who this Pink or this Brown is –”

The Santa man snickers again. “Oh you will, young man — young apprentice.”

“Apprentice?” Kolya questions. He has not bought into this Santa dude’s new name for him atall, but he does likewise stare toward what he’s been told are the sacred isles, looking for a heart. He is beginning to see.

—–

“Jesus that was loud!”

“I know. And it’s just starting.” The plane flies into the ship. Pink and Brown are dead after all.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0405, NWES Island

Pipe Room 01

Her friend Frankie “Beige/Brown” Hockentopper was dead. She knew it by the way murderer Tom Eugene Banks spoke of her. “Frankie *was* like that too,” he mentioned during the last visit about the similar ways they both hurled back the insult “f-ck you a-hole” when he asked them to do him a favor. Like, “*shut* UP.” Brown even went so far as to sing the entirety of “Mary Had a Little Lamb” after the final insult just to rile him up more. Not a really good idea, given what he did next. “Mary never had a Lamb,” he spoke over the body with smoking gun after cutting the third and last stanza a bit short. “They’re (the lambs) all gone,  Frankie, leaving dreams exposed — best left unrecorded.” He snaps a picture with his polaroid camera. He turned toward the Magic Red Door still on the wall. Igor can clean this mess up. He must find the *next* star — quickly, before she disappears from Storybrook altogether.

And so here she is. Attached to the same pipe as friend Frankie was. Then another appears, not Igor but a girl. Not really the ghost of recently deceased Frankie, although there’s an aspect of that involved. Instead: Jenny, who grows up to be none other than Your Mama.

“I’m here… to help.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0615, Corsica^^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^, Storybrook

The Room

Brown/Beige was tittering yet again. At basically nothing this time. “Who (*snicker*) is that *girl* over there? (pause) Playing that (*giggle*) game?” she asked bestie Marsha “Pink” Krakow at the gas station owned by Pete Oesso now.

But suddenly she was *there*, stars on her shoes. Someone had been in her shoes before. Similar choices.

She stepped back from the machine that had nothing on it. She looked over: Brown/Beige was gone from the window seat. She was alone in the gas station.

She changed again, remembering more.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0607, Corsica^^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^, Storybrook

second

Whiteness. Purity. Sometimes associated with milk deliveries but most often not. These are the qualities you hear about storied Storybrook, legendary in upper east west central Corsica Prime. Until the day of May 2, 2020, when the Big Inside was finally exposed for what it was.

Rocky could almost see it from his laying spot in the dog park above. If only he were 12 feet taller maybe the story would be different, with brook becoming a book.

But no one saw the event. Marsha “Pink” Krakow and new bestie Frankie “Beige” McCracken (later changed to “Brown” for practical reasons) just figured that creepy photography (and calligraphy) teacher Tom Eugene Banks had given Jake “Mr. Fix It” Trimmer a ride home after work, never mind that he had 3 hours left on his shift. The girls weren’t thinking that deeply about it. They had other adventures in mind that day. A trip inside the Big, um, Inside.

Jane Olive Green had already gone and come away unimpressed. SEAN swore off the thing, calling both girls “ho’s” and leaving on a jet plane back to the New Orleans Blues Little Rock bar over near Ashelaven, 5 years in the past, 5 years in the past, 5 years in the past. That left only Frankie for Marsha to bum around with on her most important mission to date. To find the beating heart of this Inside, where everything comes from and everything will go. Beyond the white purity of the surface. This was black, this was deep. This was starless. And a red book shall lead them.

“What does it say about your mother, Pink?” prompts Frankie later on the lower level of the Wired and Wireless, their favorite hangout and where they met. But at the same time she couldn’t stop tittering about the joke Pink just told concerning 2 elephants with conjoined trunks. So funny.

“It says…” She thumbs to the correct page: “‘A banana in a boat is worth two in the bush.'”

“That’s something.”

“*Somewhere* something,” Marsha “Pink” Krakow reinforces to her remaining bestie in town.

Time to head down to Southside for another row row row your boat ride.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0402, Corsica^^, Storybrook

Somewhere again…

“I still don’t know why you did it, *Pink*.”

“Well, *Beige* — welcome to the besties club by the way –”

Frankie “Beige” McCracken tittered here. Then, while looking out the side of her eye, “Oh my God, oh my *God*.” Her hand remained in the same place all this time. “*Don’t* turn around.”

Muffled speaking outside. Tom Banks, photography and calligraphy teacher at the local jr. and sr. high schools, was talking to Mr. Fix It about a flat tire. “Ol’ lemon, hehe, broke down right down the street, Jake.”

“Jake,” Frankie whispered over while frozen in place. “I thought you said his name was Gene,” making Marsha “Pink” Krakow weakly shrug. They listened again.

“Well –” Jake was saying. “Let’s just go down and have a look. I’ll bring my tire iron and repair kit.” With this they went into the garage and then down the street.

“*Phew*.” Frankie “Beige” McCracken pretend wiped her brow while looking out the window. “That was a close one. I thought we were goners, what with your hot pink outfit you always sport. You’d be a *horrible* spy with that on all the time.” She titters again; she had a cute way of doing this quite a lot, cute to some that is, and Marsha was a good sport about it. Always – a – sport. She dared to glance down the street herself, but the “lemon” was out of sight.

—–

“Just on the other side here, Jake — I’ll hold that iron for you while you take a look.”

“Okay.”

*WOP*. That was the end of Jake in town for a while. Drug into the wee woods behind the laundromat with a head gash the size of Viagra Falls. He’d surface several days later, but it wasn’t a pretty picture.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0401, Corsica^^, Storybrook

future now

She didn’t want to be a celebrity, at least like this.

The pressed followed her around like a pack of wolves, hounding her ’round every corner.

But that was far in the future. In the here and now of Storybrook (*not* Storybook), she was just a nobody, a local kid with a knack for smack — smacking around drums. People around her saw it as a hobbie not a profession. Sure Led Zeppelin, The Who made some money off gigs. But, looky, people would say, their drummers are both dead! You don’t wanna end up like them — do you?

She thought about giving up drums for the most part and taking up photography, like her new friend Frankie. Not *quite* close enough yet to earn a colorful nickname, but they’d been joking around lately it could be Beige. So it’s around. But what of SEAN “Green” Penn and Olive, the ones that had earned color so far? Completing his transformation, SEAN had moved into the green house over at the beginning of Arnold Lane, now covered up by sand and only known about through maps. Olive, I think, might run the local bookstore. Unless it’s Ms. Crumplebottom. We better go check…

Pink was asked to run the store while the owner went to get some lunch. Who could it be?

She’d started reading the red book that everyone in town was talking about, especially since the Corona-V beer became such a popular take-out order at the local bar. “6 feet, 6 feet!” everyone ordered about the distance between themselves and others, because no one wanted anyone else to know how much they’d been drinking. You could smell the Corona-V for 3, 4, 5 feet. But 6 seemed like a naturally agreed upon distance where the smell dissipated and everyone became the same again, subtract other obvious physical characteristics of a drunk. But that was the thing. You couldn’t *tell* just by looking at people if they’d been imbibing the toxic drink. “Oh Sam over there in the grocery store has been chugging them down,” Ms. Snippet, one of the town’s many gossips, might say. But really the only way that you could tell is by smelling their breath, if you didn’t see them down the brewskies personally.

Still waiting for the owner to show back up…

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0304, Corsica^^, Storybrook

stranger

She finally turned away from the photos. “I know how you feel,” she spoke to acquaintance Marsha “Pink” Krakow, working on a friend. She called her Marsha instead of Pink for now. “This feeling of — someone watching you. Hoooverrring above you even.”

“Is that how it was with *you*?” Marsha spoke over, curious about the resonance with this strange girl who also frequented the Wired and Wireless upstairs bank of laptops. Usually searching for crime stories this girl was, though, not rock bands.

“Shhhhh. There he *is*” she whispered over as Tom Banks entered the store from below.

—–

He admired his work before looking over and spotting Frankie.

“Hi!” he exclaimed to his star photography pupil. “And helllooo,” he said creepily to Pink. He immediately recognized another star.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0303, Corsica^^, Storybrook

no wee 02

“He said that this land was my land but it was also *his* land, Fran. Wonder what that means?”

Young, naive Fran couldn’t stop tittering at the, to her, funny sight. “He’s got (*snicker*), no face — no *skin*.”

“Hellooo!” it spoke again cartoonishly. “I’m a [delete phrase].”

“Whoa, whoa,” Jer Left Horn called to him from the chair while holding out his hands in protest. “No need for that kind of language ’round here, Norris. You *did* say that was your name. Didn’t you — Norris?”

“Mo Flo Joe No.”

Fran kept tittering. “I think he means — *no* (giggle).”

“Wellll… *what*, then?”

A very faint “Jerry” then popped out of his hot pink mouth. Then: “Harry,” almost as faint. Then, rapidly in succession, just a little louder even, “Harry, Jerry.” Then louder, more assertive: “Jerry. Harry.” Then loudest of all by far. “JERRRRY. HARRRRRY!”

“Okay,” calms Jer Left Horn, hands out again. JERRRRY and especially HARRRRRY were still echoing around the hills surrounding them. “You’re Jerry. You’re Harry.”

“He’s Jerry,” states Fran mundanely, patting his red hair and staring at his face. “He’s Harrry.” She tweaks his cheeks here. Jer Left Horn thinks he winces a little with this, the first facial expression beyond “blank” he’s seen.

“Hey,” he requests to Fran. “I think you hurt him there a bit. That (he comes over to look better) skin might be sensitive.” He points. “Yeah, see there? You’ve left red marks.”

Fran covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh. Oh dear. They’re *bleeding* or something. I’m *so* sorry.” She runs inside to get some tissues from her purse, water dripping from her face.

His face changes…

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0307, End of Time^^

bigger fish

Fran was tittering at something Cloe had just showed her on her phone. A cow blowing the hat off a farmer. Jer Left Horn didn’t get it, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Instead he decided to kill two birds with one stone, as it were. “You girls like cats? Because I loooove cats. Got two back at the cottage. Wanna see? One for each, one for each,” he attempted to tempt again, doubling down on the effort.

“Can’t talk. Phone,” responded Cloe curtly. We’ve been here before.

—–

Running out of options, Jer stood up, determined to play his final card. “You know, girls — clothing is optional here. Why don’t I, let’s see, shed *these* clothes and go over there and look out at the bay, hmmm? Maybe you girls — *ladies* will join me then.

“Doubtful,” returned Cloe crisply. “Doubtful,” echoed her friend Fran but with less conviction. She wanted to see!

—–

“Just *look* Cloe,” Fran whispered excitedly across the table.

“Not interested,” reinforced Cloe, looking for another funny video to share with her friend. Her dear dear friend.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0304, End of Time^^