Tag Archives: Guy Benjamin/Guyd^^======^*====%

little one (backs turned again (hidden in corn))

“I don’t belong here,” he said to friend Horace later on down at the docks in a kind of goodbye. “I’m not who I seem.” The wheels in his head kept spinning ’round and ’round.

—–

We go one outfit up for the next section: Harrison Ford Jett. We return to Collagesity and its Boos Gallery with Fern and him.

“So the taijitu ball was rolled over, giving the Mouse another head to replace the one just crushed like a…”

“… goose egg,” finished Harrison. Fern stared at him, wondering how much he knew about McCoy.

“The meteor, yes. Impach. Let’s move over to the Power Tower now — want to show you another baker b. work.” Things were different now, she realized. De ja boom and paths change. She’s glad, because she misses Harrison. And those apples.

—-

But for Harrison Ford Jett, Fern never made it over to the Power Tower. Alone, he stares into the eyes of hate.

Where is he (*panic*)?? Oh: there.

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name games

He told him of the missing letter in the 4 letter name, and that would take his power away and the rebels could triumph and be top dogs (once more). “Before the coming of the 4 color-letters,” he explained. “We tortured him — extensively. We got a name: Rael. Rael McCoy. We could crush him like a (golden) goose egg, we realized, but, in the end, we just let him go, let him return to the other 3 of his ilk. We realized we could never win. Because we saw ourselves in *him*. *We* hurt when we tortured him.” Guy stopped, wondering if he should say the next thing. The Chinese cook kept stirring, always patient. He’d heard so many similar stories now down through the years. All involving letters, all ending in pain.

“Let me guess,” he said calmly, steam obscuring his head from Guy in the moment. “You realized… you were missing one as well.”

So he knew that also. Because Guy had started out as Guyd, the glossy yellow and green eyed cat who was actually quite inept as a guide, despite the name. Rebl knows.

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00280406

Fish Head wasn’t in for some reason. He’s *always* in. He’s on his own again, at least for a little while. Probably one of those improbable bathroom breaks, he guesses. Fish Head usually just absorbs it internally but it eventually builds up, he reckons. Have to let go sometime, despite the dangers.

As he keeps stumbling and bumbling, he spots Soupie down a passageway. Soupie can help me, he realizes, thinking back to what the old Chinese cook told him last year about, who was it? The owner of the place. The one with the master map. “What you need to keep from getting lost, young dude, is a *plan*,” he said. Also: “Follow the pipes if worse comes to worse. Always follow the pipes.” He’d forgotten about that bit of advice until now. And he was sleeping right below them. Density, yes, but in his own brain. He figures he needs a refresher course. Fate he meets him.

—–

“Good, eh?” he spoke over while still stirring. Always stirring his patriotic soup this one is. Hence the name.

Guy nodded. “Good, yes, Soupie,” and took another slurp. 10 lindens. Very reasonable for a nice hot meal.

“Musshroooms. Fresh from Wonderland.” Guy recalled that Soupie called the fresh market down the street Wonderland for some reason, although its real name was just plain ol’ Fresh Market, or at least that’s the only official one he’d ever heard. He starts to feel a little funny in the head. He decides to tell him about his recent dreams.

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return

Guy woke up in an alleyway again. It’s those pipes, he realized, seeing upwards. Lead… weighing him down. Dense. Causing the wacky dreams. Stealing a golden goose letter, pheh. Rebel, bah. But… where were his Genesis shirts?

Better phone up Fish Head, tell him I got lost once more. Have to wear the “Nursery Cryme” one to get in. Gall darnit, I *always* have them on, one on top of another: “Foxtrot” beneath “Nursery Cryme”. Just in case. I feel naked without them.

He shivers with this and decides to get into action.

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golden goose egg

Later that week Guy was finally able to steal one of the sacred letters while the others had their backs turned. The yellow one, the easiest since it was the smallest. Upon sever torture he revealed his true name to be McCoy, Rael McCoy, and became a rebel himself. He straightened up (from the perspective of the anarchists), turned more into the letter I than O, or the number 1 than zero. This was more for disguise. The Great Rebellion had begun in earnest, not too long after it actually ended.

(to be continued)

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enough

He continued his information. “Before is the establishment of Fairview Alpha. Sometimes it is called the Big Mess. Too messy. Water everywhere. So many trees and plants and bushes. Clutter, if you will. After is Fairview and Alpha separate, as they should be. One in one place and the other in another. This is also known as the Plane of Martin and the Plain o’ Allen. Fairview is a fair view of the world, as it is, plain and uncluttered. The great bird flies in the sky but always lands here. Here is here. There is no Other, except for the Abyss.”

—–

“Before you start,” he boomed, “take off that silly shirt. The queen does not play croquet. She doesn’t have time for that nonsense.”

“I know, I know,” begged off Guy Benjamin, now part of the rebellion. He shed his first shirt, revealing Zero.

“Do you even know who I am?” he projected forth in a kingly manner.

“You are… leader of the rebellion, sire,” said Guy, slightly taken aback. “Your name is Legend.”

“My name is *Dan*,” retorted the face in front of him, a duplicate of the one on his Zero shirt except for the bespectacled cartoon face and long, Pinocchio-like nose. Guy considered the nose for perhaps the first time: the mark of a liar, a deceiver.

“Just kidding. It’s Atom. Ayom. Something. Let’s go with Atom. Do you like Atom?”

“I… haven’t thought of it before… your name I mean.”

“Atom, yes,” the face finalizes, crystalizes. “I am the *beginning* (long, kingly pause). And the end (quick, succinct).”

“Some people, sire,” Guy ventured and admitted, hoping it wasn’t going too far, “say you are The Lamb.”

“Bu HUH HUH HUH. *LAMB*?… (another kingly pause). Well okay that’s fair (quick again; a let-off; release).”

Guy stood awkwardly before the face that demanded to be called Atom but may also be Lamb, shifting his feet around, trying to think of something else to say and not look as much of a fool this time about it. The face let him off the hook finally, tired of the squirm. “Halfway through my rule I have reached the end but not the beginning. I am the great 4-n-1, and that is *numbers* (pause) but also the word FOREIGN. FOREIGN ONE.”

“You are an alien,” replied Guy. “I have heard the rumors from the rebellious others.”

“*Other* Other.” Let’s stop there.

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the future is now

He sat underwater with Leaday afterwards and wondered what just happened? “Was any of it real?” he called over from his stool next to one of the circling opabinia, another impossibility since this queer 5 eyed, backwards headed fish has been extinct for millions of years. He remembers visiting the doctor. That’s it. But what happened inside was a blank.

—–

He took his first shirt off, finally remembering there was actually a shirt beneath that. Shirt Zero if you will. He was home.

And all was not well.

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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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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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00280309

“Catch anything George?!” Burt shouted over, trying not to be jealous. 2 fish to one already. 3 to 1 may be too hard to overcome! What will the missus think? Emasculation!

—–

He goes back to visit poor Grandmama often but sees her seldom. Like today. He stumbles and bumbles and finally recognizes the Pipe Alley, as he calls it, with Doctor Diper at the end, waiting for another patient. Not him this time! He voices this out loud to Goldie beside him, who sometimes turns into Lead(ay). Alchemy, pheh. He’s *finished* with it. “Doctor doesn’t operate any more,” bubbles glistening Goldie back, good to go with gossip. “Broke — can’t be fixed most likely.” “How?” asked Guy Benjamin, a good guy for gossip as well. “Impotence?” “Hardly,” said back Goldie, gold scales showing a slight bit of gray now, transmutation beginning. Guy better get as much gossip as possible before the change. “So he still has his…” “Wiener? Yes.” Half gold half gray now. Time was ticking down, Gold(ie) cornered only a little longer. “Blackbird?” asks Guy. But it was too late. The gold had flown the coup, only dense Lead(ay) remaining who knew nothing about anything hardly. Guy would have to find answers himself. He approaches the good doctor from down the alley.

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