Eraserhead Man could now easily open the rabbit hole with his mind from the opposite end of the yard.
And Karl had fully transitioned.
“Whoa, ho ho. Daylight!”
Annie’s turn now.
“Just relax, Annie. Close your eyes. You’ll be in the sun again before you know it.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0008, 0209, Horizons, New Island
Horizons-Nysa
Horizons-Pluto
Horizons-Vega
Horizons
—–
“I have one more thing to do here, Karl. You can just wait in the boat.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0008, 0117, Horizons
“An artist, huh?” Karl says in his gruff voice. “Not a prostitute.”
“That’s my life goal,” affirms Annie, who will pick up about any man available in the stripper club. Actor/writer/inventor Tom Casey was just one in a long line of suitors. Norris JERRY Harry too. To be fair to Karl, she has a particular thing for thick, strong arms that will completely envelop her during an embrace. She turns to face her present lover’s large, bald head.
“Because my guess is that you’d make one hell of a whore.”
She smacks his cheek, but not hard. Because Annie agrees with Karl about that. She *is* a slut, and good at it. If it wasn’t for that New Island book by that Moth fellow, it still could represent a natural endpoint. But she saw the drawings, read the detailed text. Artist Point, a colony of realistic and abstract creators alike. She wanted to venture into the latter but so far had stuck to the former. And now she had a strong desire to paint *Karl*. In the nude, of course. That’s another add-it-to-the-list one, because she’d already done Casey, done Harry. 15 paintings accomplished just this past year (!). The ability was growing. And she read about a nudist beach at something called The Hook where she could hang out and pick up men. Check out the goods beforehand. Not in a pervy way, but in an *artistic* way. Okay, 1/2 and 1/2, she admits to herself while thinking about their large, thick arms, etc.
“Sisters just up and left you, huh?” stated Karl, getting serious for a change. He’d never had a family of his own. Just those crazy, fast food neighbors of his who were the focus of the… his reality. But since he was 3d again, perhaps he’d eventually have to go back to the old house, the old life. His thick coat of fur had disappeared upon, er, awakening outside in the Bluebird Cuddle Van. And how did he get here in the first place? That remains a mystery to him. Must have been some hell of a party.
“Yup,” answers Annie. “But I have only one *real* sister,” she clarified. “Tonya Two Egg; went with Harry to wherever this Mimosa is. She’s hell bent on finding JERRY, you know.”
“JERRY?”
“*Yes* Karl. I brought up JERRY two times before. You must have been staring at my legs.” She skillfully raises her skirt an inch or two while shifting her position in his arms. She’d learned that trick a long time ago.
“Oh,” utters Karl. He vaguely recalled something about that now. And, yeah, he’d been staring at her legs a lot. Here’s another one with a thing for thin, like Tom Casey. Speaking of which, they’d better get down to what he was here for. “Okay, babydoll. The night is growing, um, later. There won’t be any more stars in the sky than are in your eyes right now.” He’d learned that line a long time ago.
—–
First thing in the morning, they rezzed Annie’s small fishing boat at the nearby community center and headed south, intending to go through Horizons’ 4th and only hookless region (ironically enough) to reach the continent of Zindra. Karl had nothing to leave behind; he’d only been in Horizons-Pluto for a week. And Annie had already sold her land next to Mt. Tom, so hell bent was she upon this New Island.
Both sisters fixated on the same type of place. And there were more connections.
“New Island by boat, huh? We’ll see about that.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0008, 0116, Horizons, New Island
Furry Karl woke up in the Bluebird Cuddle Van, more 3d and less hairy, true, but still alive and well (yea!). He shortly made his way into a conveniently placed local strip club. No surprise there given the change.
“Well,” coffee drinking Pervimus Rex opined, checking him over. “You *smell* fresh. That’s a good sign.”
“Yes,” agreed his smoking and reading cousin Wally. “Looks like he’s here to stay a little longer than we expected.”
—–
Afterwards, Baker Bloch treats Baker Blinker to a fresh meal of catfish at Perch to celebrate. “Here’s to akking!” he exclaims, raising his glass of French rosé and clinking it with Baker Blinker’s own. The strong German beer Brewmeister’s Quarterly had been banned from the restaurant.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0008, 0105, Heterocera, Horizons, Rubi
Hucka Doobie also stops by to pay her last respects to long time Collagesity barman Furry Karl. She even sheds a number of tears. But he looks more filled out now than I remember him, contemplates the bee person. Still hairy but not so much. She then remembers Baker Blinker turning into something similar about a year ago, when all the oldest town avatars got together just after the Billfork Table Meeting at the Blue Feather. In fact, this is the same person… figure! She also remembers Baker Bloch transforming into Old Mabel at the same get together. She listened open mouthed at subsequent proclamations. Baker Bloch is *many* avatars in one. Baker Blinker is a couple. Hucka Doobie is merely “herself,” as she’s presently constituted, and then also herself in obsolete, “classic” form, which is more pure bee slanted and which she only pulls out during special occasions, like Halloween year before last, pheh. The party where she almost got killed by Wheeler. Hucka Doobie *thinks* she’s forgiven the former town leader, but still remains unsure. Anyway, I’m wandering, she says to herself. Karl… must ask The Bakers about this.
“Baker Blinker,” Hucka Doobie calls softly. But Karl definitely seemed dead as a doorknob (curious expression).
Hucka Doobie then turns to leave, but notices the teleporter on the floor in front of Pirate Bluebird’s coffin — complete with a blue rose someone left on the lid. She wonders what’s on the second floor now of what was once called Home Orange, so heads upwards.
Open toilets on one side. “Okay,” she says. “Kinda disgust-ing.”
And then this on the opposite wall: “The tide is turning…” A sign of things to come.
She then sits just outside on the front porch of Starbuccaneers, staring over at the Boos gallery across the way and pondering what it all means.
She sits there for the longest time.
“What are you looking at, little man?” the approaching Tammy Whatammy exclaimed, on her way up Cannon Road to pick up some things left behind at her old log cabin rental.
“Man??”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0409, Heterocera, Rubi
“Well it’s a beautiful mausoleum they’ve built for Furry Karl, bless his soul.”
“Yes, Baker Blinker. Jacob I. and Broken Heart intuited the death in the near future and prepared.”
“So Karl was a member of the pirate’s guild. No wonder he was always looking over his shoulder!”
“And he never made peace with those woods, that tree.”
“And in the end, that kind of did him in,” she continued the thread. “He didn’t have enough information about them. Too scared to follow through with certain lines of investigation.”
“Like the existence of the two Lucky villages, the center of the second built on the circumference of the first.”
“Wop, wop, wop,” Baker Blinker illustrated with her chopping arm.
“Wop, wop, wop,” Baker Bloch echoed.
They both stood silent for a moment, taking in the atmosphere of the new interior. Baker Bloch then walked over to one of the other coffins inserted around the walls, a more modern looking one, like Karl’s.
“Terry over here, then, Baker Blinker,” he indicated. “Let’s hope this is the last death for an Audrey’s bartender in the foreseeable future.”
“Here’s to *that*,” Baker Blinker says while raising her strong German beer in the air and then taking a big gulp.
Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she then makes a request.
“Sure,” Baker Bloch replies upon hearing it. “You might as well see how it fits.” She gives a thumbs up, changes, then enters.
“Marvelous, Baker Blinker. But the wall has turned yellow again.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0408, Heterocera, Rubi
“She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Casey One Hole. Coming here. In fact… get out.”
“But you have information I want Furry Karl. I gave you until today. Yesterday, actually. Because it’s 2:01 in the morning now. Did you get the information I want Furry Karl? Not *need*… want.”
“All I know, *bud*, is that it was ’67 when the first reports of the tree arrived. Treestock. Robolution.”
“I don’t know what any of that means, Furry Karl. What I want is for you to spell it out plain and clear about how the walking tree came to these woods. Can you do that? Say, in the next 15 seconds?”
“I just told you what I know. Hey, put that down. I don’t know anything else. I swear!”
CLUNK!
“Happy fucking winter to you too, Furry Karl.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0007, 0406, Heterocera, Rubi
“Lost your girl, eh?” Like any good bartender, Furry Karl was trying to empathize with a treasured customer.
“Yeah,” said Roger Pine Ridge. “Literally.” Roger wished he had a joint to smoke instead of a Marlboro. He stated this desire to Karl.
“We’re working on (the marijuana) license,” Karl encouraged. “Should know by the end of the month. Town council voted on it yesterday. One problem is the flow of grass coming into the village. Some say it should naturally be from Hana Lei. Countering this, some say Jeogeot and the Gulf region, despite the escalating war there. Depends on which way you twist the ring, see.”
“Ah… the ring. And where is our precious ring presently?” Roger Pine Ridge was itching to use it himself and investigate these supposedly grass laden lands.
Karl reaches under the counter and pulls out a magically generated log sheet only he and several others can read. “Let’s see, according to this Rocky Racco presently has the ring. That’s my boss now, apparently.” Karl pauses here to shake his head but doesn’t say anything that will put him in jeopardy. He collects himself while pretending to have something in his eye, then looks down again at the log. “And he’s, um, in Jeogeot.” Karl blows out air. “With The Kidd.”
“Tell more!”
—–
Actor Tom Casey was enjoying an outdoor bath at his Middletown house when he got the call from The Kidd. She ask him to set her tower up per usual and she would come over as quick as possible and sit in the chair. She also had a surprise for him tonight. His acting abilities were finally to be employed! Oh, and The Kidd wanted him to ring up Karoz in Chilbo.
—–
“I’m glad you ditched those ridiculous pants, Karoz.”
“What are we looking at tonight?” He wanted to get on with it so that he could return to his meal of asparagus tips and potted mincemeat with Baker Blinker in Chilbo. The call from Casey came mid bite.
“Settle down, settle down,” Billie Jean Kidd encouraged. “Get into the role again. Middletown role. You’re not in Chilbo any more.” Karoz received the message. Billie understood that his Chilbo existence was real and that this was merely a dream. But was she right? He stared at the changing picture.
“No, that’s just us,” Billie then said, also looking. “Give me a moment.” She began to browse through past posts. “You have to watch the appearance of those mirror worlds, where you stare into yourself staring into yourself staring into yourself and so on. That came up with 11111 recently. 5 is usually the limit, but enough!” She’d found the appropriate picture. She zoomed in.
“This is what Roger Pine Ridge was staring at, Karoz, in a recent post. Through it he knew he was new and that Waters was old. I have a feeling he’s going to be listening to a lotta old time radio downloads of comedians Lum and Abner during his stay in Collagesity. Better get himself a nice audio system, because those files are not the best quality. I should know. He needs to listen carefully.”
Karoz looked at Waters on the map, at New. His attention was then drawn to Ogden and also Gaston to their right. He recognized the names. He recognized the *map*.
“David Bowie as Jeffrie Phillips sits on the Twin Peaks inspired couch,” Billie Jean Kidd continued, knowing what Karoz knew. “Alive and well. He is only pausing. Whitestar.”
Karoz turned and stared at Billie Jean Kidd. “Who are you?”
“You know full well who I am, Karoz. Will we contest for the future of Collagesity once more? A *tennis* match this time instead of a wrestling match? Only you can save Collagesity at any rate. You and Baker Blinker.”
“I… we don’t plan to fully return,” replied Karoz, hands on hips.
“One more on the map and we can talk about that. We just move directly east, to the eastern side of the county. Recognize *this*? It plugs directly into the other 5×5 here as well as the Wizard’s Cube for emphasis, which is also a “W” in this spot. My spot. This is what we need to explore, Karoz. Obvious, isn’t it?”
—–
Casey the Alien wakes up inside Middletown proper.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0611, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Middleton, Rubi
After hitting his head against the outside wall of the Bodega Market — hat tossed aside in the action — Jacob I. managed to wander, dazed and confused, into Audrey’s Bar just around the corner. The Bakers later reckon that if the big 420 sign they’d just deleted from that very wall was still present when he exited the portal, the impact could have killed him, what with the many sharp, hard edges of its three involved numerals. Or at the very least, put out his eye, which would have been just as disastrous. Jacob I. was lucky. Fate brought him here.
A familiar face awaited him in the bar. Furry Karl had returned.
They both stared at each other for a minute, trying to gauge the situation. Karl had just “woke up” himself; it would take several days before he was back to his old, jabbering self. He couldn’t remember what beer was on tap or just in bottles. Never mind the liquor, although the license went through yesterday (thanks for the speedy work, town council!).
Finally Karl had gathered himself enough to get the obvious question out of the way. “What’s with the giant peeper, bud?”
—–
It also took several days, but the Wall of Jasper representing foggy perspective would fade away as well.
Collagesity has turned over a new leaf.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0006, 0402, Heterocera, Rubi
During Pitch’s awkward pause, Wheeler walked across the bridge spanning Central Stream and took the empty seat beside The Librarian. “Hello you total bitch,” he says in a low voice without turning toward her. “Hello you complete bastard,” she answers back, also not looking in his direction. But both share a smile for a few seconds. Fences have been mended.
Mary turns around and whispers to her friend. “Where’ve you been?”
Wheeler holds up “Floydodo” for her to see. “I got involved,” she explains, shaking the book to emphasize what she’d been doing. “Lost track of time, sorry.” She looks toward Pitch. “Is he alright over there? Does he need help?”
“Why don’t you go up and say a few words, Wheeler,” Mary requested. “We’ve both had our turns now. You’re the town general, after all. Whatever you titled yourself.”
“Dictator,” Wheeler proclaims proudly. She stands and walks up to Pitch, then escorts him to the seat she formerly occupied. “Here, hold this for me,” she demands, picking up “Floydodo” and shoving it into his hands. He sits down with it. She returns beside the lamp post before the rocketship where Mary and Pitch had previously spoken.
“Greetings fellow Collagsitians. Wheeler Wilson here, you’re beloved former leader, haha.” Some sour looks appeared amongst the crowd. “Ah, I see we have a couple who disagree. Well, I can’t say I blame you. I was occassionally a bit harsh with some of my orders. But, overall, I think I did a good job.” She pauses. “Let me put this plainly. Your old leader Carrcassonnee will and cannot return. The play or interview form of speaking to each other, between the Bakers, between anyone in this town, has been rendered obsolete. Perch is perched up there in *my* diner.” She points toward the indicated eating establishment to her back and left, behind the rocket launcher from this direction. “So where does that leave us, citizens of Collagesity? We’ve moved forward, yes? We attempted to become assimilated into VHC City. Didn’t work. Baker Bloch here became Pitch became Woody and it all went to hell. Duncan Avocado’s our hope in that direction now. He has emerged from the PCH Forest — has that been mentioned yet?” Baker Bloch nods to her, thinking she means the woods itself and not Duncan’s exit from it. “Okay.” She then points back to the left rear. “What is our focus, then, people? What should be the entire reason for our existence here? Can you guess? What is it?” The crowd looks around at each other, basically wondering what she’s on about. She answers herself. “The *woods*. The *trees*. That’s what this is all about. I personally recommend sealing the whole town up again until Mary returns from a successful Muff-Bermingham trip. I’ve been (myself). I know what she’s up against. There’s power there. Osborne Well still controls. I should know, being a controller myself. And then there’s his children, his twins. Morris and Lou. I know the former but not the latter. But The Musician knows Lou. *Woody* here knows Lou (Woody nods). Having taken on the negative characteristics of her father, Lou is not the best of persons, I’ve heard. She wishes for everyone to dream, to keep asleep. What is reality? she wants everyone to ask, confused about what’s right and left, up and down, east-west. We’ve lost Tronesisia to her. We’ve lost Bendy. I’ve lost my Musician.” She pauses, appearing to wipe a tear forming in her eye, an emotional display especially surprising the several with the sour looks before.
Woody Woodmanson raises his hand. “Excuse me Mrs. Wheeler. Do you mind if I say a couple of words?”
“It’s *Ms. Wilson*,” she says, sniffing. “But, yeah, come on up here Woody. I’ve said my peace.” Woody gets up and Wheeler takes his seat. “Woods, people!” she shouts in emphasis while settling in.
Woody displays awkwardness. “Do I just stand beside this lamp post here? Is this okay?”
“That’s fine, Woody,” comforts Mary from the front row. “Go ahead and speak your mind as well. We have plenty of time. No rush on the launching.”
“Well, okay.” He loudly clears his throat for several seconds. Very high pitch, startling a couple in the crowd, including the already nervous Mary.
“I am… *very* grateful to be here in Collagesity. You cannot know the extent.” He clears his throat again. “I am a refuge of several worlds. My original master, Old Kringles — a lukewarm Santa Claus — use to tell me, ‘Don’t get sick, don’t get sick,’ over and over. It made me sick. I was expelled from his Christmas village. My second master, Luke Purden, owner of a spectacular mountainside castle, gave me better advice. He said, ‘Don’t judge a book by the color of its cover.’ At the time, half of the books I owned were green and the other half white. I always wondered why I preferred reading the white covered books. Then it hit me like a humongous hammer.” Woody hits one wooden hand with the other here. “Someone else was inside me that preferred the *green* colored books. Another Woody.” More throat clearing. “Which brings us to Muff-Bermingham.” Leaning forward intently, he looks in the direction of Wheeler. “I both know Lou very well and don’t know her atall. As such, I can vouch for her decency and honesty. Yes, she wants you to dream, to wonder, to envision the impossible. There’s a village at the bottom of the hill. But there isn’t. But there *is*.” He straightens up. “And that’s all I have to say about all *that*.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0004, 0618, Heterocera, Rubi
Sunklands 