Tag Archives: King Orange^*$

the bird beats the bug

We follow him down to the door of — where he lived? We open the door. Not a chained prisoner as we suspected a bit. Not sentient Christmas excrement Mr. Hankey from South Park, another logical candidate. But Casey One Hole. Casey One Hole, yikes!

“A Blue Bird?!” he exclaimed, truly surprised himself. “I was expecting a Cardinal or perhaps a Rooster at worst, ha ha. This should be easy.”

“He swiftly moves toward me,” Blue Bird who opened the door to the outhouse — or tramp shack or whatever it actually was — kept on explaining to the others, “towering over me, cornering me, as the toys had tried before but didn’t succeed with. Then I looked down at his ‘weapon’ and started snickering.

“‘W-what?’ he managed between snarls, and followed the direction of my eyes.

“A mop instead of a golf club. He *had* no weapon. He swatted at my head with it anyway in the subsequent intensification of anger but it just kind of tickled my cheeks. Soft as downy wings — charmed obviously. Something had happened. Casey One Hole had been neutralized through the outhouse — I knew now this was an outhouse, a bathroom set to be cleaned, perhaps in perpetuity.

“‘Better get back to it,’ I joked while pointing in its direction as he jumped up and down in frustration, then swung the mop round and round, aiming at nothing now; crazy as a beetle. I left free as a bird. Appropriate.”

“Poe fellow,” said Mistress, seeming to miss the point but actually not. She unclasped her wing-like hands and settled back in the rocking chair again. Venus on the 1/2 bed decided to sing a song.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0612, Nautilus, Omega^^, Retirement Islands, The Cross^, Wild West

Blue Rose

While Lena Horned sang the entirety of her new album “Creepy Alley” inside for an exclusive audience…

… manager Zach Black danced on the deck with the less affluent people, although almost all of them had gone home by now.

7 o’clock in the morning. And he and Lena had to do the same thing tomorrow night, starting at 8. PM, that is. Mr. Low’s orders — he’s always one to give commands and not receive them. But the pay was grand, and they needed it on their whirlwind tour of the Nautilus continent, back on since the Maebaleia army declared war on its own navy in another surfacing of the ever-present North-South tension down there. They decided to amscray off the continent to protect their neutrality. Besides, Zach was an old air force guy, and, like many of his kind, didn’t know where he fit in with the conflict. “We’ll take the army boat out and the navy boat back in, just to placate both,” he said to Lena as they were pulling out of Cassandra Bay in the dead of the day hidden behind a bale of hay. It was the only way (he reckoned).

—–

“How was the party up at the yacht tonight?” asked wife Alysha to Jeffrey Phillips as he *finally* reverted and returned. “Good, I’m assuming. It’s 8 o’clock. *8* *o’clock*.” I get up and you go to bed. Typical these days.” Julius was now 3 years old and playing in the palm shaded sand outside the beached submarine they live in. His sister Julia was nearly one herself. Tomorrow was the 4th anniversary of their marriage and hopefully it would get off to a better start than this one. They would be heading back to the same yacht, sans Mr. Low. Because he had his own tight itinerary to hold to. He was heading inland with his new wife of 3 years, following the high central beige ridge of Lower Austra and then the low green western coastline of Upper Austra. Bound for the north in a plane with military insignia both right and left. Just in case.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0407, Lands End, Lower Austra^, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, North, Rooster's Peninsula, Upper Austra^, Wild West

two primary cores now, racing to a portal at the corner of a sim

“Who’s that over there?”

Standing up from the magical bench of his namesake island where he was just born, Baker Bloch sees the Fox on top of the lazy and knows he must begin his underwater quest or mission commanded by this nefarious Mr. Low, who lives in the temple ruins just right over…

… there. Not the animal on top of animal spectacle Low the Ancient evilly insinuated, but obvious enough, he supposed. He was told he had exactly 199 seconds now to construct the demanded, fake cemetery and not one second or minute or hour more. One dive, one portal, and 200 seconds later: done.

But the situation had changed from before, the Before Times we’ll call them. Mr. Low didn’t need a highchair positioned above the pretend graves of 3 fallen comrades to know what we’re talking about, calling down to them that he was lowest no more. Shouting down to them.

Because, using hindsight again, he was still a baby obviously, with his lowest of the low tantrums and fits. When will he be able to truly say “hi” to the rest of the world and act like a proper grown up? Probably never, I’m thinking, or a very very *very* long time in the future only guessed at through layers and layers of needed “lesson lives”.


then


now

“One of us may not come back,” spoke Joey to similarly white haired partner/rival Methany on what amounts to be the same island almost 14 years later.

“I hope it’s you,” wittily returned Methany, because it was in the script, the white one. Thanks to the entrapment of Crystal in the art (and pottery) gallery, they had moved past monolithic orange (or red), but blue (or violet) and the possibility of 3 (or even 4) loomed ahead.

“Oh look, here comes Hamlet the 199 pig to remind us that we must act quickly and dutifully to complete our mission or quest.” Blast from the past.

Silence for a bit as neither acted, then, “I can’t believe you held that nasty skull in your hands and talked to it.”

“Only way to find out,” Joey countered. “Let’s go!”, and she dived into the Bay of Pigs first, quickly followed by the other. Surprise move to begin — any small advantage along the way may be the decisive one, she figured. ‘I hope it’s you,’ pheh. Well — right back at you “partner.” She kicked bubbles in her face to reinforce the edge. Feel the bubbles of the lost second, *eat* the bubbles, SWOOSH.

Wheeler always had the advantage thataway over Baker.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0304, Corsica, Omega^^, Sansara, Splinterwood^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

cheeky

A deep metallic voice: “Ah yes, this must be the tube that LRPV used to destroy formerly Zen City and set up his Nowtown to rule NWES Island. Until it too was destroyed by a spawned fireball emitted from the Zen City detonation. The rule lasted about 10 seconds, then. Wait.” He checked his script. He saw the word “improvise” in bold italics after “Wait.” “Uhm. I don’t think that’s right, Wayne.” Who’s Wayne? I look off in the distance.

Sandy knew it had to happen. As he had changed others to make them appear as he wished, so too must he now pay the price. Karma, a word not to be thrown lightly around. He lay in his bed, dreaming he was another. Another Sandy. Seems like Spongebub images are everywhere these days, ba ha ha ha ha.

“Dig that chick at the bar, King Orange.”

“Sandy?” replied King Orange, now staring at her instead of clown and fellow burger baron Renaldo O’Donnell. “Sandy Chic?” he completed.

Renaldo O’Donnell glanced over his shoulder again, taking her in better. “I’d like to get her out of that little purple skirt,” he said in a male bastard way. “Like to get some of that tail.”

Sandy overheard with her sharp squirrel(-like) ears. She walked over and complied. “*Here* (*pop*), you can have them (*slam*). The things were getting stuck in the bar anyway behind me; keeping me from standing properly.”

She walked out of the Bigfoot Bar as they called it, also slamming the door.

Sandy Beech fully awakes with this, remembering everything. The stand, the poster. “Wendy,” he says aloud. “I forgot about Wendy!” He rushes downstairs to see if anything he was dreaming about remained.

Nothing but a cold, naked air blowing through an open door with a suddenly broke off handle. The wind slammed it shut again. Who would do this?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0110, Apple's Orchard, Marwood, Meat City, NWES Island^

bow

She hesitated in front of the golden phone. She just couldn’t go through with it. She picks up the receiver, dials the number, all of ’em, including the last one, the 1 that will put her in 0. Rings. Sandy answers.

“You’ve changed your mind,” he guessed correctly.

“Yeah, ahem. It’s a lot of money.”

“But…?”

“But… my friends need me over at the other set.” She glances their way again. King Winnifried Orange smiles back. Clown Renaldo O’Donnell, back turned to Wendy at the moment, smiles at him. There was a warm feeling all around. She’d never had better working mates. All were in costume, all were consummate professionals. She couldn’t leave “Burger Wars.” This was not even to mention (director) Chip Wassleboro! They were having an affair behind his 2 wive’s backs.

“Wendy,” stated character-actor Sandy Beech, straightforward if nervous. Uncharacteristic. The Twins were staring at him with murder in their eyes. “You *signed* — a *contract*; *they*” — and he turns again to dare to lock eyes with them for a second — “are not *amused* by this. I’m looking straight at them, Wendy. You don’t want to *cross* them. Do you know what I mean, do you understand what I’m saying? Put – on – the dress. The other one.”

“I can’t do it, Sandy,” Wendy reiterates, knowing this must remain a Wendy City and not progress beyond. Her left white stocking was drooping annoyingly down her thigh. $19.19 she paid for them. And they hadn’t even lasted beyond the month. What was the name of that store? Oh right. Cub Run. The place she accidentally met Sandy again that day the 1st hurricane was forecast. Then taking the cursed money and donning the bloodied dress at the elevation of the second beyond tropical storm. Because this was not just a Wendy City but also a Second City. Second Lyfe City. *The* City. She knew it all ended here, the 1 into the 0. She might as well be Wend-… Wend-… oh, she couldn’t do it; what was she thinking. Of course she’ll take the money. King Orange looked over again  — another smile. She smiled back but weaker this time, breaking down. The Twins were just too strong a force to reckon with.

—–

“Thank *Gods*,” Sandy exclaimed while slamming down the receiver and getting the results he wanted.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0021, 0509, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island^

Big Orange

The Rhode Gallery is no more in the Omega continent’s Meat City


Former Fenfarg neighbors (w/ “swastika windows”)

But, across the *road*…

… the sim of Rhodenwald certainly still is, thank God.


“I know who you are.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0401, Omega^^, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

warm

“Unlike with the chickens just outside, my creator plays fair instead of fowl. Fairmount fair.”

“As opposed to Fowlerton fowl, I get it.” Even though they might be considered rivals, Grown Up Kate McCoy, another avatar auditioning for a part in our newly blossoming Collagesity novel, was truly amused by this big orange cat she currently shared the Red Devil “Hot Spot” Sofa with, not feeling the least bit competitive with him. Didn’t hurt that he hates dogs too. We can both enter the game, she muses, perhaps as a team. Another Dynamic Duo. The Fair Party. Down with Fowl, so on. Could be a nice angle.

“You know they’re from the same hometown, Jimmy and my creator,” the large feline continues. But male as hell.

“I didn’t know that,” she replies, hand cupped under chin in a rapt listening position. “Do tell more.”

—–

“Hatfield!” Baker Bloch shouts from beside the missile across the room, so fiery upon its return. “You’re up.” He points up.

“Looks like my turn on The Moon.” The orange cat prepares to rise from the red sofa.

“Break a leg up there,” Kate encouraged before he left her side. “And put in a good word for me. Fair words instead of fowl, ha.”

He pats her diminutive hand with his giant paw. “I will.” He saw where this was going too. A team — a ticket, even. Like Jim A. Garfield and Chester A. Arthur before them. Question is: which is which. He’d have to be top dog no doubt, then pardoned himself for the expression.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0105, Golden Sink^, Maebaleia/Satori

Sink X

“It was a meeting of the Pipersville brain trust. Cindy A., Jim A., and Todd A. A different setting, certainly, than the Hole in the Wall the general public knew them from. The Tipsy Trio some call them, like Your Mama. She knows them all too well, she thought — back in the days they were best mates, her being a kind of unofficial 4th member of the club. Jim’s Club — ahh yes. That was the name. Because Jim was the ringleader; on the catbird seat. Now that Keith had fled the scene. Bower-Brown. Undercover. Famous, even infamous, but also not known atall. The sink did that to people, affected their minds. This was proven by the theorems they were working on at the time. The bank had 1 room where they could test subjects, but there were others. You could call it a time machine, but that wouldn’t be taking it far enough. Kind of a space machine as well. No, let’s call it an *Option* machine, both through space and time.”

Preston Weston was cutting the z’s by then. Craighead Phillips, the more moral Option, decided to call it quits for the night. Long journey back to Old Wagon Road or thereabouts to pick up where the other one left off.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0014, 0315, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X^

Presidents’ Ball 01

“Now that Lisa has arrived on the scene, we’ll have to hide you down here,” proclaims Missus Lemon, happy about the reunion but concerned.

“A drugstore?” asks Fisher.

“Drugstore Orange?” elaborates Lisa, noticing the name on a sign.

“Ahh, you speak Japanese. Even more reason for concern.”

“I learned it while staying in Adgatetown over on the Corsica continent.”

“I know the place,” said Natsu Lemon, nodding. She touches the wall behind her. “Here is the secret door. Quickly — inside. Before someone sees us. I’m sorry it’s a little cramped. And — that other thing.”

——

“I can’t quite reach it, Lisa.”

“That blue book may hold the key to everything,” Lisa says, trying not to stare into his eyes. “Here. I’ll help. Maybe we can use one of those flasks over there to knock it down. But careful — we can’t *damage* it.”

“History of Wallytown,” says Fisher, watching Lisa get up and move to the table, also trying not to stare. “What *is* this place?”

—–

“Here, let me see.” Fisher grabs the book, rereads the passage Lisa just summarized.

“Soon as we get out of here, Fisher, lover. I mean, as *soon* as we get out. I want you to ditch those bar layabouts Catchup and Mustered and dye your hair a different color. Blue would be nice. Green… anything.”

Fisher finishes up the section, looks forward with Lisa. “So it *is* a demon.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0010, 0701, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

No workout

Baker Bloch knew something he could do to perhaps help immediately. There was one too many of the same color within the sphere. He transformed into King Orange and teleported over to his house in Saturn. Greater Malefic, opposite Tronesisia’s positively charged Rose MoonDream cottage. Realm of Oranges which should be just Realm of Orange.

He takes one last gulp of wine through his forehead and begins the process. The King knew Orange Nova usually woke up about 7 and headed over to Muscle Madness to begin his daily 10 hour workout. It was 5 now. This was a window.

He goes outside. “Eclipse nightclub,” he thinks, staring in its direction. “Damn fine goblets of wine.” He then peers further, just around the corner. White house.

Orange — the *fake* Orange — would be sleeping upstairs in its only furnished room. *Barely* furnished. This should be simple.

—-

Goblet raised, King Orange strikes.

And strikes again. And strikes again and again. And again.

—–

Orange Nova turns from blue to white. At 7 sharp he walks out of his house toward Muscle Madness, chained to a routine even after death.

He can’t pick up weights. He can’t sit on the benches. He can’t do anything.

Morris shows up.

“I’m the last person anyone wants to see in their lives,” he admits. “But it has to be done. Come with me Orange Nova. You’re time has arrived.”

Morris changes into a wolf and leads him through the portal to the Great Beyond.

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