Tag Archives: Hector^*+

January 5, 2024 · 5:07 pm

00410417

Hector put on his pirate outfit so as not to spook the poor little flattie birds with their quite limited two dimensional brains, different from Polly, Molly and Folly in the other room. He wasn’t one of us, he was one of them (!), they collectively thought. Because they didn’t want to be free. But Hector was offering them to customer Atlantis High Priestess (Bermuda) for just that. A chance to be out of their cages and gone away from here. No More Imprisonment.

He opened the first of 4 cages in the room, intending to shoo the 4 colorful birds within out the door. An alarm unexpectedly sounds when he does. Victor had set a trap! he thought. “Those birds will never be sold,” were the last words he said as he slammed the front door, never actually intending to come back to the cursed place as he called it. Inherited from his father nicknamed Birdbrain for buying the shop in the first place, all he wanted to do was make a little money off of it so he could turn into a woman, his true dream and ambition. And that woman — money acquired in other ways —  had been standing before Hector in the front room, unrecognized because of the workings of the various hormones he/she had taken and was still taking in smaller measures. A Victor to Victoria transition; ‘nother one.

While she was out of sight in the back room, Victor-now-Victoria also took the opportunity to change. She emerged beside him, sirens blaring in the distance, likewise dressed as a pirate. The dress makes the woman, the way you dress is who you are, and so on. “I’ll take it from here,” she said. “You should hightail it out of here while you can.”

And so that’s the appearance she had later down at the police station located underneath Starbuccaneer’s Coffee Shop, so full of beans that they had to open the back door to release pressure several times a day.

Victor had indeed been kidnapped by pirates, but the pirate currently sitting in the holding room with all the warning signs was also him. But, really, outside the skull and bones decorated outfit you could never tell.

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January 5, 2024 · 3:38 am

Humanvillians no more

“So tell me more about this young girl you met. Corvo, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, well you *know* her name. Supergal Ruby. And you know she’s engaged… or reengaged to be more exact,” he tried to reassure his wife. “She and Greg Ogden had been married before. But…” Herbert Glenn Gold wasn’t sure he wanted to bring up the death of Greg’s interim lover Mr. Babyface in that Korean Channel water funnel. Simply because he wasn’t sure he was really dead.

“But what, dear?” April Mae said in the gap. “Is… is there a problem in paradise?” This was what she sometimes said when she sensed trouble in a relationship. And this one, she felt, threatened hers. She had been quite insecure — and understandably so — since the Merry Goldbusk debacle over in NWES City. And now they’ve returned to the same continent of the indiscretion — probably adds to the paranoia a bit.

“I don’t think so. Anyway, that’s why I invited them both here,” he followed up on earlier conversation. “Greg is happy painting so I provided him with models.”

“Models, hmph. Is that what you call them?” She was usually more tolerant of Herbert’s eye wanderings but her biorhythms were on the downswing today. Perhaps too much tea lately. But Albert makes such a fine pot!

“Now now, April Mae. They’re only cheap mesh statues really. Like all those ones standing outside Baker has lined up for potential use later on.” They were on the wrong side of the house to look at all that mess so April Mae didn’t try. Flesh and mesh, she thought here. Unreal but still tempting, she felt.

“Soo… she was just here to pick up the 2 coins and then leave. And you said she knows what to do with them.”

“She knows. But she just has to remember. There’s 2 directions here,” he says as he cuts another piece of pizza and gobbles it down. “She can pawn off the golden coins for quite a small fortune actually.”

Unwise, April Mae thinks here about his earlier actions. Risky and unwise.

“*Or*,” he continues, “she can use them as *evidence*.”

“Atlantis, right.” She cut her own piece, she accomplished her own gobble. “And what about Bermuda?; you mentioned a Bermuda. From the way you described it it sounded more like a person than a place.”

Thinking of her newest dress with all the parrots, Herbert Glenn Gold decided to deflect here again. “No, it’s a place. A triangle, actually.”

Another funnel, he then realized.

—–

“I’ll take everything you have,” she said shortly after entering the store and the introductory chit chat was over with Hector Big Parrot Bird Guy. “Including these 3. Including *you* if you wish, she thought but didn’t say out loud. There had to be limits to all this silliness.

“Molly, Polly and Folly are *not* for sale,” he returned in a haughty voice more human than bird. “They’re my friends. They keep me company. I can’t be entertained by reading all the time.” He finally looks up from the book about non-parroty things, stares into her eyes. “But the rest are yours. Take them, I don’t care. I’m just an unpaid employee minding the shop while the owner is away. I don’t know when he’ll be back. He’s been gone for days, maybe years even. I don’t care,” Hector reiterates.

“Free?” she said.

“Free.” I can replenish the stock in a blink of an eye. *Those* parrots aren’t real; mere 2d replicas. Only these three here are real. My friends, as I said.”

Molly emitted, “You’re darn tootin,” to this.

Polly squawked loudly as if in agreement.

But, without chatter herself, Folly just looked around from her own perch at everyone involved. She personally had her doubts that *any* of this is real, pet shop and all. And where was Victor Ratt the owner? Rumor has it that he’d been kidnapped by pirates.

Only the unreal parrots in back knew for sure and they weren’t talking either.

(to be continued)

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August 23, 2018 · 5:20 am

beach scene

“What’re you checking out bud?” a concerned Bendy asked his best friend Fisher who was looking at his hands.

“I think I cut myself on that old ferris wheel car in my dream last night. Is that possible?”

“Anything’s possible in a Wonderland, I suppose,” responded the robot. “Was this the spaceship again? Dr. Ice Cream?”

Fisher considered the question. “I guess it *could* have been. A captain was there. And a captain always has a ship by default. Right?”

“I reckon. Want another morning brandy? You can also pour some on that cut — if it is a cut — for disinfectant. But it just looks like a regular ol’ hand line from my perspective. Let me see.” Bendy examines his hand. “Yeah, definitely just a deep, reddish hand line. Heart, or perhaps head. Have you ever had your palms read? And this time I don’t mean by blood, ha ha.”

Fisher thought back. “Maybe when I was drunk once in Bennington North. Lots of palm readers there, going along with all the (tree) palms.”

“Lindens?” Bendy asked about the trees.

“No. Just regular mesh products. Like what’s on the original Fisher’s Island. The tiny one we erupted up to in our pink car from Second Lyfe’s vast underground. Or was it blue?”

“We better figure out such things before advancing the book further. This is 10. Often times 10 is a construction sign on a path one can progress no further upon. Like in The Swamp. You know, with The Cube.”

“I *don’t* know that, Bendy. How could I, as a character in such a book, know about The Swamp and The Cube? But of course I guess there’s always The Dreams.”

“It’s where photography will be reborn. 10 is the limit, Fisher. We’ll have to live inside The Cube after that. In The Swamp.”

He started studying his hands again, seeing something in the patterns. “Can’t wait.”

—–

“Oh I almost forgot to mention. I’ve been seeing *robots* around lately.”

“Mirrors?” Fisher joked.

“No. Actual real flesh and blood, er, nuts and bolts robots. A little one who motored up to me and introduced himself about a week back. Walldo he called himself, obviously after the town’s famous wall. But why? Then — I can’t believe I forgot to tell you this — I saw another one from more of a distance. And she looked like… Nah, it isn’t possible I know. But, get this, she looked like *Tronesisia*.”

“Get out of here. We know Tronesisia perished in the New Island catastrophe. Actually she perished before that, being frozen in the Artist Point Interactive display, apparently by this powerful witch named Hazel or Mid Hazel or something.”

“She’s old,” inserted Bendy. “But anyway, I called toward her — she was walking on the beach near that mound with the dead Russian Greys.”

“I know the place,” Fisher said, nodding his head.

“But then she just walked behind the mound from my perspective and never came out the opposite side. I hastened over to the beach — nothing inside. Just the Greys there, sprawled on the ground at the entrance, like usual. No Tronesisia. Maybe I imagined it?”

“Let’s go look at the scene of the crime — help take my mind off these crazy dreams.”

“Yeah, they’re getting crazier,” said Bendy. “Curiouser and curiouser, even.”

—–

“Do you remember *this*, Bendy?”

“*No.*”

(to be continued)

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August 18, 2018 · 9:09 am

Wall, The 02

“What do you see outside the window?”

“Umm, a mound?”

“Good. That’s the mound where we lost Hector and Lewis. And two fine Russian Greys they were!”

“Yes. Sorry to hear about the loss of your alien friends, doctor,” Tronesisia responded.

“I.C., please. As in Ice Cream.”

“Yes.”

“Now turn to your right.”

“Hold on.”

“What do you see now?”

—–

“This is the night I’m going to do it,” Roger Pine Ridge mutters in the general direction of Natali/Molly. Another day off for the latter, but she was too interested this time not to care. Roger was going through the door, he said. She’d heard the story before — a choice between green and red. Which way to flip, etc. She only understood a portion of what’s been uttered by the sad former Floydian, but resonance was there. She too had made a similar decision. Her alter ego: Molly (Lustrous). Colors again; violet and orange in her case.

“The other wizard chose red,” she tried to help. “It turned out okay. Ultra successful film franchise and all. String of best seller books.”

“Yeah, but it may have turned out better if he’d been clad in green. Obscurity has its rewards. Hidden in the depths, the mud, the *muck*. A jewel in the rough. Not rough: just a jewel in hiding. Alexandrite, perhaps. Best of both worlds.” He sighed. “One way to find out.”

“So you’re going through with your trip to Corsica, huh.”

“Short stop on Jeogeot first, though — Dewey, weirdly enough. ‘Nother map synch.”

—–

True, pure water bubbled and splashed just outside the door.

“You’ve made a wise decision, Roger Waters, um, Pine Ridge,” spoke the green doppleganger standing before him. “Obscurity here we come!”

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