Tag Archives: Heart Queen^^

section’s end

“Personally I don’t like to look at the thing,” she spoke, facing way from the map. “But there it is. The Maebaleia blue galleries of lore. Notice — and I’m not going to turn around for this — that Cassandra City near Bluestocking is closest to The Moon here.”

“I know,” cooed the staring Heart Queen, thinking back to the previously examined map on the second floor of the House of Truth. “Barracuda. Just like in ‘Moby Prick’. Gypsies. Karoz! I’m remembering. He was there!”

“He has been disguised as (similarly blue-green) Tealy for the current run of Collagesity photo-novels,” admitted Grey Scale. “Waiting to reveal himself.”

“Now’s the time!” requested the queen.

“Not quite yet,” tempered Grey Scale, who was still in charge despite the niceties. The Heart Queen, like Chesteria before her, was learning when to keep in line; bend her own will. “Don’t cross Grey Scale,” urged Chesteria as newly appointed executive advisor. “She knows what she’s doing. Despite the purse.” They both had a laugh about the yellow handbag after that — so unfashionable, both agreed. Doesn’t really go with any of her earrings, for example.

“Then… when?”

“We have to determine the identity of Tillie, the accomplice. She may be Baker Blinker, the wife in Our Second Lyfe. Or she may be…”

“Wilson?”

“Very close.” Grey Scale turned to the Heart Queen. “Very close.”

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no men

“Ice cream for you today, my ruler?”

“Not today, Jer,” Grey Scale Kimball replied while walking by. “Maybe tomorrow. You just stay there in that here ice cream truck till we’re ready, tehe.”

“Will do, mum.”

—–

“Let’s take another shortcut,” the Horns of Hatton ruler expressed while staring beyond the end of the path, where the stones run out.

“Let’s go through the front door instead,” replied Chesteria A. Arthur. “She’s had enough of being sneaked up on lately, don’t you think?”

“Wonderful.” Grey Scale is turning out to be a wise and thoughtful ruler, ready to bend her will through sound feedback if needed. But Chesteria also knew when to get back in line. They were soulmates through and through.

—-

“You’re *right*, Chesteria my love. Look: my statues emitting both colored and non-colored waters. She *has* acquiesced. We can move forward together to defeat the North.”

—–

“We can move forward together to defeat the North,” the Heart Queen finished her 2nd surrender speech (as it will be later called). “I look forward to fighting side by side in many battle victories.”

One after another, they pricked the symbolic white fish on the hearth to make sure it was dead. And it was, through and through this time.

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hot spot 02

She hears him approach, then stop. “Ahh, my heavier, more favorite son has arrived. I knew you’d –” *pop*.

She turns to see what that noise was, then gasps. “You *didn’t*. You *didn’t* just *do that!*”

“I’m not in play any longer mom. I’m going to fess up to my weakness and beg my former wife for forgiveness. You’ll have no power over me any longer.” Then, throwing the horn to the ground, he left — out the front door this time. No secret passages between horns. No possible reinvoking the Horns of Hatton. It was over for the Heart Queen, plain and simple. She had played her last card.

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hot spot 01

Benny Left Horn stopped while answering his brother. “Grey Scale’s got her countered at every move. It’s about revealing deception and dissipating pain. I’m starting to BELIEVE.”

“Don’t do that,” implored still swinging, still synchronized Jer Right Horn to his left. “Just don’t.”

—–

Where is the 4th? formerly Campbell O’Pine (Opp) pondered nearby, staring at the constantly swinging-in-place, red-yellow-blue cubes. Where’s Grassy?

What have I lost?

—–

“I’ve tried everything,” despairs the Heart Queen deep in her lair a little further north, very near the the actual left horn of the crown. “I’m going to hide the city as a last measure. I’m going to invoke the Horns of Hatton, but not through the King this time.” She pauses to think of possibilities. “But where are my 2 needed sons? Are they still — *in play?*”

—–

“I’m going to end it,” Benny Left Horn mutters while descending.

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the power of one

“It all ends with the chicken,” Grey Scale responded to the still defiant Queen before her. “No Mor,” she insisted.

“But…” She shook her head in continued defiance, “you’re no more president of this here South than I am. It’s a technicality you’re talking about, a *loophole*. It doesn’t really exist. It won’t stand up in a Court of the Land. Neither mine *nor* yours.”

“I am president,” put forth Grey Scale Kimball in a matching tone of finality. “The loophole, in my opinion — in my *decree* — was set up by fate. You state that *you* set up loyalist Space Ghost on that property called ‘Ghost land’ due to fate. I am saying to you in solid return that, although this is *technically* true — another loophole in a way — it was also fate that I discover the traitorous move. Trailer traitor,” she finished for now.

“So lemme get this straight,” the Queen shot back. “Lemme get this straight.” Her eyes were in the air now as she had assumed again a state of high haughtiness in line with her royal position. “*You* were elected head of the Council over in Regaltown.”

“Yes.”

“Then since Regaltown is the old capital of the South, before the coming of the grey and white elephants, then your power is transferable to Horns of Hatton because the Head of Council there was once the same as the Head of Council here.”

“Still is.” Grey Scale continued to mirror the fixed position of her foe standing before her. Her *defrocked* foe. She pointed to herself. “Me.”

The Queen waved her monstrous red hands in the air and stomped about the floor a bit, uttering cusswords I won’t repeat here with such words as “unbelievable,” “unfathomable,” “unconscionable.”

“Duly elected,” broke in Grey Scale in the middle of all this. “DU-LY…” She motioned for the Heart Queen to simmer down. “ELEC-TED.”

And that was basically the end of it. Space Ghost’s illegal trailer on the west edge of town derezzed and owner banished back to Regaltown. The Queen’s mutinous club gathering at Cpt. Americus’ Between Land cabin on alternate Tuesdays and Thursdays dispersed. No scripts allowed to run at the King’s tomb; no more worshipping of the dead, of the past. Grey Scale had found an opening, an *Achilles heel*, and taken full advantage of it. She was ensconced.

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deposed

She glances outside at the warped superhero still producing white or grey matter from his bucket. Like magic; another isolated superpower. But the meeting needs to come to order.

“Here here!” she cries, waving her monstrous red hands before the group. “We’ll have to start without him, ahem. We are — at the place Grey Scale can’t reach thanks to Cpt. Americus and, um, perhaps Chicken Itza — we’ll see. The chickens cluck, the cocks are eaten. Crows flies, uh.”

“We understand,” spoke aiding Norton Wise Turtle (alternately Wise Norton Turtle) from the corner, likewise nursing a blue-green martini. Nursing it to death.

“Fish Head!” she prompted. “Give us a report.”

“Water,” Fish Head bubbled and gurgled opposite Norton Wise Turtle. He also had a blue martini, locally called a Blue William, which he poured into his fish head bowl intermittently. “Fish,” he added just as gurgly. “Scale — working for.”

“Excellent. Good information. How about you Flat Tire?”

But Flat Tire Crow Flies hadn’t rezzed in yet. Just a colorful mist still.

“Never mind, then,” spoke the queen after silence. *Former* queen. “And then: Space Ghost. My old friend. One of my oldest friends.”

“I’ll never leave this land,” Space Ghost reinforced, having already nursed an empty wine glass. To death. “This land is my land and this land is your land.” He pointed around the room. “Each and every one of you.” He settles back in his chair. “If you so choose.”

“Thank you. Anything to add Wise Norton Turtle?” Norton Wise Turtle took the last swig of his drink and states, “That’s all. I believe we’re at The End.”

And he was correct.

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