Tag Archives: GertrudeGTAV^^++++$

July 17, 2025 · 9:09 pm

00470406 (3:19)

SHORTLY…

Hmm, another owl’s beak along with a whole, attached owl, or a rendition thereof, he thinks. I wonder if Madge lives here? Maybe that’s why I involuntarily walked here after leaving the pharmacy. Those owl beaks sure have power (!). Couldn’t *wait* to nibble on one.

—–

But there was only ruins within. Madge, nor anyone else, dwelled in this spot in Newtown in the sim of Newt on the continent of Jeogeot, also the location of Newt’s “other” home of Nawt Vaya, the one he doesn’t hang around as much lately. He’s on too many trails here. But this one: dead end. Better get to the park and meet Wheeler, he thinks while looking around at the barren stone walls surrounding barren stone and grassy floors. Where one trail ends….

At the same time in space, Alfred Hitcher leaving the downtown grocer with actual soda also suddenly has the urge to visit the park. We know the soda will be gone by the time he gets there. Perhaps he drank it along the way; might explain the subsequent hallucinations. Teaming up with no good lie-about Fisherman Jim to fight for the right to own an imaginary island, humph. In his wildest dream! But that’s what the fold out part did to them, additional drug enhancement present or not. Power enough on its own. Remarkable.

(to be continued)

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July 17, 2025 · 8:51 pm

00470405

“What’s your name, handsome? I’m Madge.”

Was she talking to me? I thought she was looking at the pharmacist. But now the pharmacist is looking at me with raised eyebrows, triangle complete. She’s talking to you! he prompted. Because of course she’d already probably know the pharmacist’s name, both being residents of this here Newtown in all likelihood.

I thought quick. I didn’t want to say my name was Newt because that was the same as the sim, and then I’d have to go down that rabbit hole why they were the same and how I got my name from the sim, yada yada yada. So I made up one on the spot. Looking at the cash register in front of me, it all came together.

“Mark,” I said. “Mark, er, Pfennig.” Born January 1st, 1963 but I left that part out for her. The pharmacist eyed me suspiciously but said nothing. I think he might have even winked at me; yeah, let’s go with that.

“Mark. What a beautiful name,” she cooed, striking yet another provocative pose. The pharmacist rolled his eyes a bit here, let’s say.

“Madge is nice too,” I thought to reply back, not wanting to seem *too* rude. But of course I had no interest of that type in this woman. I have to be 5 years younger than you! (he thought vainly). And look 15 years younger (he kept going down that road).

“Why thank you, sweetie.” She then held out an arched hand palm down, apparently for me to either hold or maybe even kiss. Is this some kind of German custom I wasn’t aware of? I took the hand and shook it. Her face expressed disappointment, insult even. “Humph,” she uttered, her whole arm going limp, hand sliding out of my grasp.

Co-pharmacist or perhaps pharmacist assistant Gerald (Geralt?) comes to the counter with a prepared bag. Stephan (pharmacist at the counter) slid it toward Madge. “Here’s your, um, *soda*, dear.”

“Soda, yes,” she said, grabbing it with the same hand I tried to shake and then giving me a look that told me this wasn’t in any way soda. “Owl’s beaks,” she whispered to me while pivoting from the counter. “For the nighttimesss,” she hissed, then locked onto my eyes for a second while tilting her head before moving toward the door, old yet still effective hips in full swing. I couldn’t help marvel at the scene.

“So what can I do you for?” asked Stephan. “The same?”

“Yeah,” I admitted when finally turning around.

(to be continued)

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March 26, 2025 · 2:21 pm

00460210 (Boo!)

Sans Newt now, Wheeler was testing out more locals and taking more notes while also trying out new outfits, this one called Fern (dress) with kind of matching shoes I suppose.

“Excuse me, ma’am. The bathroom’s locked with no one inside. Do you have the key?”

“Bathroom’s *broke*,” exuded Gertrude Witherspoon from Grapeseed, a person dying on the vine.

“Well can you tell me where the nearest public restroom is? My husband and I were just passing through on the way to Chilbo (she lies).”

“Mmmmmmmmm. I *said*…. hmmmm…. let me…. think… ummmmm.”

“Well, never mind,” said Wheeler. We’ll just do it in the grass beside the road.”

“That sounds best,” the woman said with no irony in her voice. Did she really think this was the best solution? Would *she* resort to that?

Wheeler was about to walk through the front door in a huff when…

“Oh wait, young person.” Young person! Wheeler thought. The old hag had just redeemed herself, ha. “Bert’s in his office today for a change. Bert has an extra set of keys. Just knock on the door — ’round the poster there.” As if she couldn’t be bothered, Wheeler thought, watching her continue to just stand there and pose in various ways. Provocatively? Could be if she were, say, 60 years younger, Wheeler thought, and then also thought that’s not a very nice thought. *She’s*… well, she always says she’s 25 working on 39. But those days had passed. Just call it a Jack Bennyism vanity.

Going past Gertrude again — bathroom’s broke *pheh* — she gently knocks on the door.

Bert, or who she presumes is Bert, calls back in a pleasant enough voice to come in. She goes in.

But not before noticing what appeared to be Gertrude prominently appearing in that poster. Queer! she thought.

Then the same poster inside along with another surprise.

“You!”

And just like that she was gone.

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October 31, 2024 · 6:20 am

00440507

He was wealthy beyond anything he could have dreamed of now but he couldn’t help but keep thinking of his humble origins in that vineyard over in the hills north of Lost Sanos, before he became, as it were, LOST in the hustle and bustle of the city’s mean streets. Capitalism, greed took over. Lust for power. Money. A simple video editor of GTA V he was back then. First camera. Couldn’t even figure out how to add his own speech in for the longest time. But then the talking started, and it never ended. Deal after deal after deal, making his way to the top of the pyramid, stepping on the heads of his competitors along the way. Smushing down everything beneath him that needed to be dealt with in his path like accrued sedimentary layers of mud and preserved skeletons. He didn’t feel like he was standing on the shoulders of giants to get to this point. He *was* the giant, towering above the land of man, tall as Atlas. A man and also a whole world. In his head. He could see the circumference, could navigate the surface like a modern day Magellan to all ports of call here there and there to collect favors, debts, even bribes if necessary to keep the collective going forward. But more and more lately he yearned for that old, delicious glass of Pinot noir, his favorite, while staring into the tiled fountain from his favorite seat on the patio, and wondering how to actually produce sound from his lips. Ah, the good old days.

If only he could find his fountain pens he could write down the halcyon beginnings, but big bucks blocked the way once more in the form of an attache case full of dough here, lid raised so he could gaze in on his most recently acquired booty. And he also wondered why he converted his laptop into such.

“Gertrude!” he called on the intercom to his underling secretary, one of the beaten down, one of the ones trying to escape the pressure of the city and return to country origins in her own northern arcadia of the early 21st Century, Morro Bay I believe it is called, a place Jack also knew about; where they met, actually. “Bring me a computer in here pronto and, let’s see, let’s make it a 62 inch monitor this time.” Big screen needed for a big view of the world, he rationalized. His world. F- the pens, f- the fountain, *f-* the vineyard. His thoughts had returned to the normal ones.

—-

“Do you want me to remove the attache case to make more room for you?” she asked after bringing it in and setting it up, gazing down on his now even more crowded desk and also wondering why he converted his laptop into such.

“No I’m not finished staring at it,” he said brusquely, barely acknowledging her presence all the time. Return to normal as I said. She left without more words.

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July 22, 2023 · 2:30 am

00390301

I use to not be that way, she pondered, thinking back back back to innocence and childhood. Running a garden cafe while her Mom was busy making deliveries. Goofing off in back while customers waited for more service which usually never came. Served them their food and/or drinks, she thinks. Done with them — my time now. She had big plans and needed to dream about them a lot. She intended to own… a castle.

—–

“Lordy, child. What you thinking about *now*?” her mother complained, seeing that glazed look in her eyes again while she herself has to do all the work. “These cookies won’t baked themselves. Set aside those dreams and help me roll the dough.”

“I was thinking about… Bliss.”

“Child, you’re too young to be thinking… oh.” Gertrude realized she was talking about the cat and not religious or any other type, God forbid, of ecstasy. “Yes,” she says while continuing to sprinkle sugar on the first dozen, almost ready for the oven. “Well, Bliss is in a better place now, child. The Lord will take care of her.” Pause to set down the sugar. “The Lord will take care of all of us when our time has come.” She thought of more reprimands but decided now was not the time. The child was obviously still grieving a bit. Things like, “It was *just* an animal,” wouldn’t suffice here. Or that, “Sorry for your loss, move on,” joke she heard on one of her favorite British TV shows the other day. No — consoling will have to be the trick. And she *is* tired of doing all the work. She decides to combine the two needed outcomes. “Tell you what, when I start feeling down, little girl, I always find that working takes my mind off my troubles.”

“Oh, Mom. You’re just trying to get me to make those cookies.”

“True,” she admits, “that’s an added benefit. But the taking your worries off part is true as well. So what do you say? I’ll put this batch in the oven and I’ll help you.”

(to be continued)

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