Tag Archives: Marcus Fox Smartville^*

crescendo

Fast forward to 8 months later…

“Bogart and Bergman again? Aww, Ruby Dharmaraksa. What are we doing here in this sim?”

“*You agreed to the situation as well,” she snapped back.

“Oh yeah, what — what are you going to do? Throw another *pot* at my head. The last one didn’t draw enough blood?”

“Ruby D. begins to cry. Marcus Fox Smartville caves and calms down. Little footsteps could be heard running around upstairs, directly above where they were sitting. “You better, *sniff*, go check on them again. If (she wipes her face with her hand)… you don’t mind. I don’t want them to see me this way, all red eyed and runny nosed.”

“Okay, sure. Just don’t get this way.”

“It didn’t, *sniff*, use to be like this.”

“I know. Things change.” He reaches over and pats her hand now. “Circumstances change. We have so much more responsibility now. The roses aren’t the only thing we have to take care of these days.” Marcus Fox Smartville thought back to the day when her rose changed. They weren’t the perfect match any longer. Ahh, the halcyon days. The XOXO times. When is there time for that now? Hardly ever.

—–

“How are they doing, Gus?”

“Oh, you know. Little demons as usual.”

“2 hours until lunch. Just try to keep them *slightly* under control till then. As long as they don’t burn down the house again, or set the neighbor’s on fire.”

“Again,” Gus the caretaker tacked on. He looked over at Marcus with this. They couldn’t help share a mischievous smile; both loved these little devils. More than Ruby D. More than the neighbors, obviously. More than, well, the town as a whole. But everyone knew they had to put up with them in the meantime. Jer Left Horn and his brother Benny Right Horn were scouting for a place to put them and selected Gregson, according to their father’s wishes. His *spawn*.

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Filed under *Second Life, Gregson, Maebaleia/Satori^^

motel

“I think that’s the worst part of leaving the South for me, Jer my bro.” He stares at Bogart and Bergman on the screen. “No colored TV.”

“I hear ya.”

—–

“I *love* black and white TV,” Cathy A. squeals downstairs at basically the same instant in time. “Reminds me of my childhood in…” She tails off here.

“In where, pumpkin spice? You mean…?”

“Yeah.”

Marcus Fox Smartville studies her sad face, so filled with joy just a moment before. Then he notices the rose.

Not the same hand, not the same color. Just with the insinuation of Crabwoo everything had changed.

“I’m remembering things,” she said.

—–

“Anorexia?” he responds just a minute later. “What kind of name is *that*?”

“She goes by Annie.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Gregson, Maebaleia/Satori^^

wheres and whyfors

It was a busier night at the Gregson Motel in Dharmaraksa. The well established establishment was about to get 2/3rds full. Brothers Jer Left Horn and Benny Right Horn were the first to arrive, coming from Horns of Hatton by Royal (Magic) Bus. They were followed quickly by Marcus Fox Smartville and new gal pal Cathy A., with last name to be determined. The vehicle this time? None other than Little Jimmy, the complete bastard of a car also recently owned by Keith B., Kevin A., and perhaps some others I’m not recalling right this instant. $70,000 lindens was the price this time. The bastardliness just keeps on building upon itself like some kind of warped lego concoction.

“You allow chickens, I’m assuming,” said Jer Left Horn to the hotel receptionist, unseen to his left here. “She’s house trained.” Bethulia was current playing hide and seek with Willard (receptionist) from behind his computer monitor, but he didn’t find this cute at all. Blame Southerners, he instead thought swearingly. I guess they’ll start coming in droves to this place after it’s all said and done.

Marcus and Cathy picked up whispered words from the horned brothers like, “Red Devil”, “father”, and “honor”. But there was no need for secrecy. History had shifted in and then turned out upon itself, like some kind of warped twister game. All was there to expose thanks to scrying, reality flipping black holes. Marcus recalls something about a jug, or, better, like a glove turned inside out, true nature revealed. Both left and right at once — in a warped way again. Red Devil.

“Alright that was GREAT guys! FanTAStic! That’s a WRAP for today! Good WORK!”

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making history

“Ooo. I *love* it,” actress Cathy A. coos. “So you’re Gabby Truth as well. Splendid!”

“Thanks. But let’s see what we see inside my crystal ball. Here. Let me turn it on first.”

“Ahhh. The *Moon*. Didn’t recognize it in the dark.”

“The New Moon is a false Moon,” Gabby Truth (Greg) states cryptically while beginning to stare deep into its glowing, cratered surface.

—–

“Interesting. We will remain Marcus Fox Smartville and Cathy A. instead of Greg and Dharma. Pencil Man wishes it that way and says we already have a Greg (with two “g”‘s) and also Gregg (with three “g”‘s) in the production. *His* production, because Phil has yielded to a stronger, *living* entity now.”

“Phil Austin?”

But Marcus Fox Smartville currently playing the role of Gabby Hayes Truth doesn’t answer Cathy A. and instead begins speaking of Gregson or whatever name the small Northern town will ultimately annex. “The 66(6) sign was just that — a sign. Owner: the Red Devil indeed. Here’s a quote I’m seeing about the him… or her: ‘Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth — and taste. I’ve been around for a long, long year….'”

“‘Long, long year?” Cathy A. quotes, snapping Gabby out of his trance. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Now let me *concentrate* again — don’t interrupt unless absolutely necessary.” Gabby (Marcus) stares into the lighted Moon again. After a moment: “Devil… yes, I’m seeing it again. An establishment was there (on that parcel). Southern, not Northern, although within the North.” He pulls back, still staring into space. “Red Devil was a Northerner.”

“We *all* know that,” replies Cathy A., new memories suddenly snapping into place via The Magic. “It was a hidden fact, but now the townspeople want to embrace this noble past. It’s in all the local papers, duh.”

“It is?” Marcus behind Gabby then realized this was truth. New memories had snapped in for him as well. “Ahh, yes. His *establishment* there. Southern — but a disguise.” He had no need for the Moon now. Scrying information had become real information for all to see and remember.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under *Second Life, Hills of Bill^, Maebaleia/Satori^^

numbers and letters

“Congratulations on being the 666th character of the Collagesity novels, Cathy A.(!). Sorry about the Satan part on the icing. Had to use what was at hand, see.”

“Thank you. I wanted to say, ‘do you like my b.’s,’ but I don’t have any to show.”

“We’ll work on it.” Baker Bloch was thinking they definitely weren’t going to work on that.

“Better get back to Gregson or whatever. Am I in that (town)?”

“We’ll work on that too.” Baker was thinking (her presence there) was a stronger possibility. In fact…

—–

“Do you think I’m beautiful, Marcus?”

“Um, sure you are, *Dharma*,” actor Marcus Fox Smartville answers while staring at himself and wondering basically the same thing, except switch “beautiful” with “handsome.”

“Oh right. Dharma,” she tests. “I like it. Better than Cathy.”

“And I’m Greg,” Marcus added, thinking of how much pancake to apply now. “Like the town.”

“Hmm. Hehe. How does — *prrr* — how does *that* work?” She keeps spinning and spinning in front of the full length mirror with her rose, looking at every angle.

“Baker Bloch said he’s just winging it again. But, don’t you think… *Beautiful*…” He looks over.

Dharma twirls in place and faces him as well. “Yes, *Handsome*, hehe.”

“Haha.” Greg completes his thought, character fully in place now. “Pencil guy,” he states simply.

They exchange some more laughs, picturing the situation.

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chicken knowledge

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Filed under *Second Life, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Regaltown^

easy as

Arnold had brought them here to this chicken laden place to sit just outside. He wanted them to be witnesses in case Grey Scale Kimball launched a full, um, scale investigation of the two.

“So many chickens around here, Kevin C.,” Kevin E spoke to his lover while peering around him at the other side of Bridgeman’s. “I can count 1 (pause), 2 (pause), 3. Like us, hehe. 1 (Kevin E. points to Kevin C.), 2 (Kevin E points to Kevin A. on his other side), 3 (Kevin E. points himself).”

“That’s very good, Kevin E.” Kevin C. pats his knee this time. “Remember the word ‘appli-cation’ from yesterday? There were 3 squiggly letters — 1, 2, 3. Then you said the next letter, a straight one. What number would *that* be in word.”

“Errr. 3 again?” Kevin E. guessed incorrectly.

“No, that’s not right.”

“Shh, guys,” spoke up Kevin A. — as stated before, the smartest of the group. Or least dumb I suppose I could put it more accurately. But that’s not really fair to them. They’re all sweet as can be. Especially C. and *especially* especially E. Sweetgrass sweet for those two. Kevin A. didn’t quite make the cut and had to remain straight. He is just outside looking in. Outside with Space Ghost at the Northeast Quadrant that’s filled out nicely in the meantime. “I hear someone coming,” he continued after listening a bit more. He was just outside looking in again. But the big dining table hid the supposed action.

Kevin C. looked up and down the road running beside Bridgeman’s but saw nothing. Kevin E. followed his eyes and then looked himself, a copycat act. He was often in copy mode. Kevin C. then realized what Kevin A. was talking about.

If that moaning would stop inside, Kevin E. thought,  maybe I could concentrate on the road and see what Kevin A. was talking about. He peered further down the road right — direction 1 he decided to call it to keep organized in the moment, as Kevin C. had taught him recently. He studied the old Archer place from a distance; could almost see that blue band or whatever playing at the dance pad over there.

Then direction, um, 2: Airport tower this way.

Still no sign of someone coming. The moaning accelerated inside, reaching a climactic point just as Kevin E. uncharacteristically shouted “Shut up!” to them, “I can’t think with all that going on.”

—–

Chicken Itza and Marcus walked out of Bridgeman’s, looked at the Kevins lined up in a row outside, and feigned turning red. “Eh heh,” laughed Marcus nervously. “Er, just some bad chicken. We *ate* some bad chicken.”

“Yeah, *bad* bad,” accented Chicken Itza beside him. Bad as in *good*, he thought to himself as part of the cover up.

Kevin E. realized what Kevin A. was talking about.

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