Tag Archives: Johnny Ubermodel^*======

00350607

She thought of another answer while chopping pepper for the big meal. George was coming over! Or was it Arthur? Anyway, she thought of this: I *love*, that George’s backwards guitar was destroyed in the Moray Docks explosion when that new Tar Guit appeared over top of it. BOOOM! she recalled joyously. That can replace the “resourceful” answer, #4 I believe.

“She’s gone,” Baumbeer speaks later to Newt about the poor girl’s mind. “But I know where she is.”

“I’ll go see her,” replies the father not father-in-law. “No need to bring the boy in the picture,” he says half to himself. “He’s already heartbroken enough.”

“Let me know if I can help more,” spoke Baumbeer into the receiver to finish. He hangs it up. On a clothes hanger.

Newt rings Shelley up. I mean, he calls her. Since the wedding is off and he’s no longer the Best Man. Thus the meal.

“Newt!” she modifies again, moving to the cucumber or tomato next. “The father-in-law.” Her face squinches up. “Father *in-law*?”

They meet at the same gazebo in the sim’s corner. Property called Sim’s Corner. The Void’s energy was just loosened enough so he could reach over and straighten up the blouse on her shoulder. Pepper t-shirt no. 1 she wore now. Small successes before bigger ones, he thinks, staring at the daughter he didn’t know he had until the end of the last photo-novel, 34 in [delete rest of sentence].

“Wheeler says to say hello,” he starts again, trying to jolt more memories. Does she remember the spaceship? Of course not, Newt thinks. Too young. Shelley says say hello to Wheeler back, even though she doesn’t know who that is. She’s trying to mask her big big problem. And where’s George? Or was it Arthur?

“Your… *mother*,” Newt says to this, understanding she doesn’t recognize the name. “George — you know George, right?”

“Georges,” she says, which Newt lets slide.

“Anyway, *your* George says you look a lot like her. You even have some of the same tattoos.” Kind of odd, Newt thinks here but, again, lets it slide; chalks it up as another disturbance of The Void.

—–

“You’re batty I tell you. *Batty*!”

“Out of my way, whoever you are! *Whatever* you are!”

“W-where you going, dude? Nothing left but *me*.” She starts dancing and dancing with her weapon. Hypnotizing. Just like on the bus. It was her.

Shelley wakes up. What did I do to *Johnny*, she immediately thinks. We go back to that point. That’s where she began to lose it. The baby. My baby!

She was the baby.

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gloryous night 02

“Something happened in Belliseria, Johnny, I mean *Arthur* — DAMN: **Lemont**.”

“Yes??” Much like Mr. Ubermodel at the time, he was all ears. Where has she been???”

“Anyway, it was undone. The Orient, Johnny Arthur Lemont. Thing like that can happen there.”

“So… something *happened* in Belliseria and… *unhappened* in Omega?” He began thinking the obvious.

“Yes. I went a little — crazy.”

We’ll have to start over, he thought here. We’ll just have to move on and start over.

“Where are you *now*??” he said into the receiver in his house in Nautilus. *Their* house. If he can find her and bring her back and she’s okay after that.

She looked around. “Bus,” she managed. “Heading… um, don’t know what direction.”

“Can you see the Sun?” Lemont tried.

“No. Dark.” Void, she thought. Was she *there*? Had she been cursed through being so mean to Johnny?”

“Anyone with you now?”

She had to keep driving, but she glanced around the bus real quick. She wasn’t sure otherwise. “No,” she said after checking, returning her eyes to the road.

“Do you have another tracker on you besides the phone? Doesn’t seem to be working as such now — may be too far away. Maybe from that Umbrella Club you were at?”

Umbrella Club, she thought. She doesn’t recall an Umbrella Club. Then she remembered legs — removing them from the sun back into the shade. The torch-like sun. So hot. Did she have another tracker about her? She recalled… a photograph.

(to be continued)

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00350308

I was wondering when you were going to show up.

The duck, not the screamer, although they obviously could be related, especially since there’s a hand pointing from the former to the latter. Now to back up…

—–

“I’m going into The Void, Shelley. If my face is worthless then I want to do away with it. My rocket launches Thursday after next.”

“After next what?” she replied calmly, taking this new development in stride. She was expecting something drastic — just didn’t know what. Tension had been too high lately.

“More details later,” the ironically named Johnny Ubermodel responded. He was just making all this up. He simply wanted a reaction. Would she come? But (he though while staring at her) — why would she? Her face was *perfect*. Child-like and innocent but old and full of wisdom at the same time. “I bought The Void Machine on the marketplace. You can check if you wish.”

“I believe you.” She didn’t believe him. This was all about that comment with the TV. And, of course, the attached threat to leave this place, this lake with its forest in the sun and set out for — sanity?

“We could live at 7000, 100000, heck 1000000. Sky’s the limit as they say,” and he couldn’t help a small smile here on his goofy mouth too close to his nose and eyes. And that nose!

“Johnny. Johnny Supermodel.”

“Ubermodel,” he correct.

“Yes…” She’d heard about eels but couldn’t fit it in here. Irrelevant in the big picture.

“You’re not going. I know. You’re going to the bus instead, despite the lack of animations for what we need to do to make us happy.” Make *me* happy, he thinks here. Her: obviously not so much. “You can drive away into the sunset.”

“Johnny,” she tried to placate. “I know I made that comment earlier about your face, and how are you going to be a porn star and make money to redo it when you have it in the first place. I mean…”

“I know what you mean. I’m too ugly to get my foot inside the door of the business, even though I have talents — enhancement — elsewhere.”

“Yeah.”

“So you think I chose The Void over reality.”

“Umm.”

“Shelley.”

(pause) “Yes?”

“I’m going into The Void.”

—-

But he didn’t. He eventually got another job that paid even better than the porn one and got that face and went on to live a successful and happy life. But not with Shelley.

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00350307

Did you know a faceless, objectless Void begins at 4000 meters elevation in Our Second Life?

And physics starts to get a little wonky even as you approach. Eels can appear, for example, but not the kind you might expect.

Someone is pregnant. Someone shouldn’t be here. The bus down there is the way out. Take it.

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two to see

“Is that the guy from ‘Twin Peaks’?”

“Yeah I think so. You know… we’re not going to be able to stay here, you and I.”

“Oh yeah. Why not? Am I suddenly not good enough for you, Shelley?” He huffs a bit. He was expecting this sometime but hoped to delay it until after football season. He enjoyed watching 2 games in one through this dual TV setup. He wouldn’t be able to afford 2 on his own.

What could Shelley say? That the sex eventually didn’t make up for the looks? Surely he knows about the hands by now, and the hiding of the face. And it’s getting uglier, she admitted, in the bright light of day. In the dark it’s easier to pretend. She hoped she could get use to it. Not working.

That night she dreamed she was trapped inside the stomach or innards of that big stuffed purple bear in the living room, ready for birth that never came. In the dark herself. Satisfied with the lot of her life.

But she woke up, ate her Toastie Oats cereal, choco chip dodecahedron style, and, staring out through the iron grid window at the magic bus from whence they came — parked down by the water still — understood anew that she needed to be on her own for a while. She looks over at Johnny’s mug. Jeez it’s worse than ever this morning. It’s like he was made to be disgusting. And, she then realized, perhaps he was… perhaps this is all… some kind of ruse. A test. She’d had flashes about who gave her the bus, who sent her here. A woman named Wilson who was also friends with a Fox. A person who — was much like herself, yes. A *mother*, she discerned, turning her table around to stare at the bear.

Birth is what you make of it. Cradle to grave, but in the middle, always The Cross. Which she’s on. She’d been absorbed in the Omega continent’s north to south arm! Somehow that made it both more real and more irreal at the same time. Birth, she realized. It is coming. Or: not.

“Dear, sorry, you’re kind of in the way of the TV.” That grating man-child voice too(!).

She stared at it now. “It’s some kind of *test pattern*, Johnny. Get over it.” Just like this life she’s living here, she also thought.

“Oh. I thought it was a show.”

“So did I, Johnny. So did I.”

(to be continued)

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00350305

“Look out below!” she called, her hair not getting wet quite yet. She wanted to add, “femboy above!” but caught her tongue. Why would she say something like that? Then it hit her OOOF! She remembered. Right in the crotch stomach. Good thing she wasn’t pregnant!

—–

They later talked about it in front, a looked over final animation. Then they’d have to leave the bus or else chance just repeating themselves over and over, however pleasant the experience was the first time around. She knew she loved playing the drums now — she could find others. She knew she dug dancing, and actually there’s a line dancing joint just across the lake they can go to for that. As far as living quarters and being able to sleep and do some other stuff via animations, they had found the perfect spot, also across the lake but a little further back from the water, behind that other interesting club that always seems to contain so many avatars. She went yesterday and looked them over. All AFK, all ready to serve their purpose while the owner was in all likelihood absent from the scene. How interesting, she thought. Kind of terrifying but still…

She had no desire to join in this kind of fun. She had Johnny for the moment. When they moved into the Big Boy Apartment, she always kept a hand over his face, though; imagined someone else’s over top of it if possible. Looks aren’t everything, she knew, but they were *something*, and Johnny had none really. But he was talented in other ways.


Big Boy apartment.

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00350304

“We got us a femboy here, Walter,” Chuck says, also indicating the chest while the other watched. “A frigg’n *fern*, yeah,” he now laughed. Chuck knew what that meant and Walter did too. Fern was code for “fun with blue”. They said this exact thing to Shelley, going as Scheldon today to more easily break into houses. What had she gotten herself into, though? She should have never worn that alpha on top. If they only knew.

“No, you don’t understand,” she attempted in vain. “It’s just the pandemic…weight gain…” All she could do was stand there and take it like a, well, woman actually. Franklin had one but she didn’t. Hers was fake as stated. “Just lift it up,” she said, “lift up the shirt and see; it’s all still down there still,” but they were having none of it this morning, needing a little bit of ball breaking to start the day off right — any excuse.

“Ready, set,”

—–

“You can put down the sign Johnny. We’re here. The South I suppose.”

“Awww,” he exclaimed with a voice between a man and a child. “No one honked at it. Not one single car or boat or whatever.”

Probably because you look like a total dork, Shelly thought from the front, glad for the failure. *She* certainly didn’t want to see it. Or did she? “That’s too bad,” she said aloud.

“And I wore the pants with the loose zipper so I could get them down easier.”

What a *dork*, she thought again for emphasis. How did I get stuck with this looser? She thought back. She was in the North, yes. She was being arrested. Then: black, I mean *blank*. White out, actually.

Johnny finally laid down that confounded sign and peered out the window. He could see water. He knew it was Linden because of the reflections — Shelley always had the advanced graphics on when she drove to see better. Nice here; a bit of shade — an actual wooded area, a small forest, in front of the bus now. Shelley knew where she was. But how?

There were several things Shelley wanted to do. She wanted to play the drums in back.

Check. “You sure play super,” spoke Johnny, falling a little in love with the young lass who picked him up along the highway about Linesville. About where the North and South meet. “South,” he said to Shelly about his destination. “Me too,” she said back. “How deep are you going?” “How deep are *you* going?” he questioned back. “Oh, a lake.” Then she drew a blank again. Someone had told her about the lake and given her a bus, apparently, but she couldn’t recall who. A lake with a forest and lots of sun, she remember it being described. The magic bus will get you there, she also recalled. She got there, yes, but it was as if someone or something else took over the steering wheel.

“Cool!” Johnny exclaimed about lake. “Can I come too?”

And here they are.

Second: the dance.

“You sure can dance swell,” said Johnny, watching on very interested. He was definitely beginning to fall in love. He could stare at her for days.

Third: smoke another joint on the side of the bus. Johnny joined her of course, tied with a tether by this point.

“Boy you sure can smoke,” he said while puffing away on his own, edging a little closer to her between the 5th and 6th tokes and again between the 11th and 12th. He’s starting not to make a lot of sense around the girl, so smitten he was. Compliment *everything*, he decided.

Then he showed off a little too much as he ran inside, honked the bus horn, and then held up a second sign different but similar in style to one he displayed all  during the trip down. Would she? he pondered. Is she even going to turn around? Would she at least find it funny?

She did, lucky for him. Else: more ball crunching. But the bus had run out of animations for the poor, sex starved lad. Shelley and Johnny remained separate until 2 days later when something else happened, something out of the blue. At the same time, Shelley remembered.

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