I had to face the tiger head on.
Wheeler is Charlene is Her Majesty the Bigfoot!
One remained on the jigsaw pieces to our left, because there was only one left. Waiting for the snowman to turn orange again (it always did).
There (Wheeler joins the game).
Harrison just kept on dancing like a fool with his new mates behind the theatre. He was free!
Mary Pippins’ red umbrella and the Red Umbrella gallery
Bake’s Bakery (newly relocated!) with Barry X. Vampire and pretty Poetry Dancer
Zapppa’s apartment? (dreaming of that chick down there)
that chick down there — actually, those chicks, including the Her Majesty bigfoot/yeti in the doorway just down
Toddles roaming the mean streets of Black Ice at night again after drugging up her Grammy
Stumpy, the new bartender at Moe’s, smoking bong hit after bong hit while listening to noise rock with Gotham the psychedelic reggae monk. He’s got a head! He *is* a head!
Charlene Brown the punk working late night on her cryptozoology dissertation, unaware that off again on again boyfriend
Barry X. Vampire Jeffrie Phillips is with Poetry tonight, the bastard
Melvin the devil boy offers a passing skateboarder some suspicious looking soup while half-sister Eldwina ponders her 1st assignment as an official member of the City Squad. Knew it! thinks full brother Judd from the stairs.
Since a Rosehaven Yarn Shop exists in both, I’m playing around tonight with a further melding between Picton, Ontario and NWES City of Our Second Lyfe.
Best additional resonance: the overlap of the also recently opened Her Majesty in NWES City with the Regent Theatre of Picton. Notice the parallel crowns in the center of the matching pictures below. And then notice that a girl wearing all black except for a hot pink dress (and seemingly holding a somewhat less hot pink colored coat) is walking directly underneath part of the theater marquee featuring the name *Pink* Floyd. Best guess: since Her Majesty is a bigfoot/yeti in Our Second Lyfe, and a black furred bigfoot is seen standing in the other doorway of Her Majesty (the main doorway here is framing Queen Elizabeth with a kind of menacing look — pic stood out for me) with footprints from him (or her) leading down the sidewalk, then the black clad woman must also be a bigfoot in my eyes, perhaps Her Majesty again in some queer way as transferred from virtual to real. The pink overlap is just a way to highlight this.
And so the actual name of Our Second Lyfe’s Her Majesty may be Vic, don’t you think. Or Vincent.
(to be continued)
Hmph. This wasn’t here last night (when I passed by). Changes again!
And where did my red cap go??
The Cones (formerly Victory Restaurant)
Weddings at St. Mary’s traditionally took place after the Munday sermon so Preacher Stephan had to sacrifice a Renaldo O’Donnell clown first to appease the Gods. Tradition as well.
“Oops, that was a real squirter Pitch, ha.” The Darklys excused themselves to go home and wash clothes.
Afterwards church officials found the sacrificial altar was too heavy to move, so they made do with a cheap wedding booth found buried in a pile of junk at the back of the annex. Toothpick and Elberta then said their “I do’s” to Preacher Ziegler, since Preacher Stephan, a Northerner, refused to acknowledge the Deep South tradition of marrying siblings as kosher.
At the reception, Marty sang one of his beautiful love ditties to Saffie sitting with Toothpick, Elberta and best man Zapppa, hoping to get a better rental unit out of it.
Time to cut the cake. Big Wanda becomes annoyed about the orange butterflies that keep flying off her head in the excitement and leaves the task solely to Toothpick.
As feared, Her Majesty the local bigfoot/yeti came up from the new hole behind St. Mary’s to pay her respects to the newlyweds but was surprisingly controlled by the Corona-V pirates and ended up not eating anyone.
Lastly: group picture. Everyone had a laugh about all the innuendos.
And that’s it! Log another Collagesity or Sunklands photo-novel in the books.
He stared at the amber light beyond the end of the dividing canal, wondering if it had been moved from the wall to the floor.
And what it meant. Was he *finally* reaching?
On the other end, Zapppa hungrily eyes the now almost vacant Bigfoot Bar, which apparently will be up for rent soon. He’s waiting to pounce. He has the idea to bring (Dinah and) Moe’s Bar of Cassandra City to NWES Island. And explore more of that Montana/Zircon tweezers theme to himself escape the grave. I think it will happen. It’s the exact same building after all. Fate: bar exchanged for another bar. Continuity ensured.
And just in time for our first seasonal bigfoot sighting (?)
“We’ll figure it out, Axis, er, Tropp. Umm.” He was truly stuck in the middle and 1/2 and 1/2 (sorry!).
The house seemed empty. But it had a portal room.
In the thin woods eyes were watching.
Maybe 1/2 and 1/2.
We should walk back to GASTON.
.daor eht ssorc mih gnihctaw ,nacnuD desserpmi na denipo ”,onimoD ,naem uoy tahw ees I“
They were. And so was Bigfoot. The locals referred to it as Her Majesty, again for mysterious Xplicit reasons. In the winter when she became all snow covered, she was more often called a yeti. 12, up to 13 residents were lost each holiday season. Baker’s dozen; Baker never liked that kind of talk associated with his name. Because that meant he was the last one to blame, I mean, he was to blame for the last one, the thirteen. If only he’d been a better Christian as a boy. The Boy. And now he’s paying through the Dark Peak of 2. Twin Peaks. Just like Harrison Jett had. The real deal.
If only he knew what the bluebird chirped down at Blue Jay Bay he would be a head of the game.
(to be continued?)
She glanced past Harrison Jett through the window. “You know, I thought that was Bigfoot out there for the longest time. But it’s not. It’s a man — carrying a woman. The woman looks like 2 arms.”
Harrison Jett also looked out, not impressed. After all, he was a man fused with a woman as well. He was the real deal, the Real McCoy. He told this to Charlene the punk, then asked her how the heck she got *here*. Last he’d heard, she was in Gaston.
“Well, Barry X. Vampire — *sorry* — *Jeffrie Phillips* got tired of me and separated his place from my place. Yeah, I was in Gaston for a while. Yeah I saw Firesign Theatre perform there, a house band at the Rhino. But then I started hanging around Randolph the Pirate; hanging around that Dark Peak of the two, the one without the topping Christ.
“I believe he’s called Jim in some realms,” offered Harrison about the bastard buccaneer while sipping on his mysterious Xplicit drink. She had a parallel drink, held in the opposite hand. Male and female, once more. They should clink and get it over with.
She had to ask. “Those — apples. Are they real?”
Harrison Jett looked down. Were they?
(to be continued)