… Pink had a frank (Frankie?) talk about the red book with her parents, so secret that I wasn’t involved (sorry). We must move on from Storybrook again…
Tag Archives: Marsha “Pink” Krakow^^+++++
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“Officer Ferguson’s just here to ask you a couple of questions, pumpkin.”
“Da-ddy! Don’t call me that.” She indicated her pink outfit. “Wrong color!”
“Oh, this won’t take but a second of your time, me laddie,” interrupted Tank Ferguson, uncomfortable with talking about colored people. “We’re just here to discuss your visit to the old Perch place from the other day. We suspect — an unrendering of volume.”
The Man — playing Pink’s daddy in the current scene — gasped from his corner, but the gesture was a forgery. Fooled Tank, though, which was the important thing in the moment. “You *didn’t*,” he exclaimed to his little pink girl. “So… you saw the Big Inside,” he further rationalized. He turned to Officer Ferguson. “I *promise* Tank, that this will *never* happen again. I’ll — well I’ll never let her out of the house again!”
“Da-ddy,” Marsha “Pink” Krakow offered quieter now. “It was just a one time thing. We didn’t *go* inside… the, you know, Big Inside. We just looked at it, peered in just a bit. Peeked in, ahem.” Marsha “Pink” Krakow knew she had slipped up with the mention of a “peak”. Tank Ferguson, who majored in psychology before switching to criminal justice just before what would have been his senior year, caught the Fraudian slip. Pink’s face started turning beet red. Tank pivoted toward The Man. “I think we know what’s going on now.”
“We *do*?” he sputtered, but also knowing full well what was going on just beneath the surface slippage.
“I’m going to verify it with that SEAN child who lives down on Arnold Lane and then Olive Green, if she’s returned from the monastery.”
“You’ll never find her,” boldly responded Pink to the officer, in full defense mode now. “She’ll always be hiding just outside your grasp.”
“Oh I think I know where I can *find* her,” retorted Officer Tank Ferguson, smug look appearing on his face. He stared at The Man again. “Just so happens *I* have a daddy involved as well.”
“Bazooka?” shot back The Man, truly thinking the old geezer was dead in his grave. He’d been away too long.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0306, Corsica, Storybrook^
grays and browns
Still engrossed in the red book after she was relieved of her lunch duties, Pink ran right smack into the rump of Ms. Crumplebottom at the corner of two streets.
“Lordy child!” the elderly schoolteacher exclaimed, then crossed herself and ran home to take a 120 degree shower, then turned the other way and took another. “1 year to retirement,” she complained while sudsing her hair a second time. “And that girl is trying to put me in an early grave!”
But then while drying she remembered the Corona-V wasn’t catching, it was just a catchy drink super popular in town right now. No one could go to church, read the proper, starless black book, and had substituted red for black, like Marty’s most recent hair color. 1975. A good year for Mars, and Venus along with it. Stars in general. Crumplebottom just had a bleed through experience, as if from another dimension (which it was). But at least she was super clean for her date with Bazooka Ferguson tonight, father of the local sheriff Tank Ferguson, the one that would later arrest — well, we jump too far ahead again.
But I think we’ve eliminated Ms. Crumplebottom as the bookstore owner, since she seems to be a local teacher instead. Don’t think you can be two in one, or at least go on dates, since you’d be working all the time. I think it has to be Olive. Maybe another poll is in order, alternate realities at stake and such.
—–
Meanwhile, within the brownstone apartment Pink just ran into Crumplebottom outside of, Bazooka Ferguson lamented the fact that he had to warm up to the school teacher with Olive. “It’s okay,” she comforted after the fact. “You didn’t go all the way through so it isn’t cheating.” She looked in his eyes for understanding. “Is it.”
“Now take off that old uniform and get ready for your date.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0305, Corsica, Storybrook^
future now
She didn’t want to be a celebrity, at least like this.
The pressed followed her around like a pack of wolves, hounding her ’round every corner.
But that was far in the future. In the here and now of Storybrook (*not* Storybook), she was just a nobody, a local kid with a knack for smack — smacking around drums. People around her saw it as a hobbie not a profession. Sure Led Zeppelin, The Who made some money off gigs. But, looky, people would say, their drummers are both dead! You don’t wanna end up like them — do you?
She thought about giving up drums for the most part and taking up photography, like her new friend Frankie. Not *quite* close enough yet to earn a colorful nickname, but they’d been joking around lately it could be Beige. So it’s around. But what of SEAN “Green” Penn and Olive, the ones that had earned color so far? Completing his transformation, SEAN had moved into the green house over at the beginning of Arnold Lane, now covered up by sand and only known about through maps. Olive, I think, might run the local bookstore. Unless it’s Ms. Crumplebottom. We better go check…
Pink was asked to run the store while the owner went to get some lunch. Who could it be?
She’d started reading the red book that everyone in town was talking about, especially since the Corona-V beer became such a popular take-out order at the local bar. “6 feet, 6 feet!” everyone ordered about the distance between themselves and others, because no one wanted anyone else to know how much they’d been drinking. You could smell the Corona-V for 3, 4, 5 feet. But 6 seemed like a naturally agreed upon distance where the smell dissipated and everyone became the same again, subtract other obvious physical characteristics of a drunk. But that was the thing. You couldn’t *tell* just by looking at people if they’d been imbibing the toxic drink. “Oh Sam over there in the grocery store has been chugging them down,” Ms. Snippet, one of the town’s many gossips, might say. But really the only way that you could tell is by smelling their breath, if you didn’t see them down the brewskies personally.
Still waiting for the owner to show back up…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0304, Corsica, Storybrook^
stranger
She finally turned away from the photos. “I know how you feel,” she spoke to acquaintance Marsha “Pink” Krakow, working on a friend. She called her Marsha instead of Pink for now. “This feeling of — someone watching you. Hoooverrring above you even.”
“Is that how it was with *you*?” Marsha spoke over, curious about the resonance with this strange girl who also frequented the Wired and Wireless upstairs bank of laptops. Usually searching for crime stories this girl was, though, not rock bands.
“Shhhhh. There he *is*” she whispered over as Tom Banks entered the store from below.
—–
He admired his work before looking over and spotting Frankie.
“Hi!” he exclaimed to his star photography pupil. “And helllooo,” he said creepily to Pink. He immediately recognized another star.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0303, Corsica, Storybrook^
Hoooverrring
Always down there looking for that extra “R”, Fanny Mae Palm Branch thought about her boyfriend/fiancee Robert Dee Generic, an Ordinary originating from Pasttown.
Ain’t gonna find it. This is *Reality*.
“And stop trying to perv on that pink girl!” she wanted to shout over as well.
Marsha “Pink” Krakow tries to decide what she wants to search for on the internet today at the nearby Wired and Wireless coffee shop.
Led Zeppelin or The Who is always a good start.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0302, Corsica, Storybrook^
realities
NOMAD // Love Meter
whispers: Welcome Marsha Krakow! Now, let me see what your sex appeal is…
[00:27] NOMAD // Love Meter whispers: Innocent
“Innocent, huh? I’ll show this stupid machine *innocent*.” She turns.
“And where is SEAN ‘Green’ Penn today? Why won’t he come out of his house? It’s as if no one *lives* there, hrmph.”
She moves toward the dock binoculars and uses them again. “And *where*, pray tell, are these *islands* you went on about so much? Nothing.”
—–
“Oh well. 10 more minutes, SEAN. *10*.”
But then she fell asleep for 2 hours on the bench beside the NOMAD Love Meter, woke up, and waited 20 instead. Nothing.
—–
“Wonder where Pink is?” SEAN pondered while staring out at the islands in Southside Bay.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0210, Corsica, Storybrook^
back in Storybrook…
“What is this place?” SEAN asked after accepting the teleportation offer from Marsha “Pink” Krakow. What *is* that girl up to now, hum? he asked himself before clicking the button. One way to find out.
“It’s the center. *The* center. Now look at where we are. The old Perch residence. Moved away, though, like so many others. Heard he’s over in Heaven’s Gate now.”
“*I* may be next, hmph,” responds SEAN “Green” Penn. “I’m *tired* of being moved all around town. First I’m down at Southside Bay in a teal cottage. Then I’m up in town again at a *green* one. Like my name — it all builds around that house now. Trouble is, I have memories of *both*. When I, er, went out to that island in the bay. You know the one.”
Marsha “Pink” Krakow didn’t know the one and said so.
“Oh, you know, with the kind of robotic lady with the different colored eyes. Like David Bowie.”
“David Whoie?”
“Bowie.”
“Oh, you mean Buie.”
“I meant what I said, girl. So, anyway, erm, she was there. On the island. I just row row rowed my boat over there.”
“Where did you get a *boat*?” Marsha responds.
“It was just there. Underneath the teal house. Or in the boathouse I suppose. *Inside* it. Downstairs inside… ohh.”
“Anyway — can we get to why I brought you here?” Her voice was reduced almost to a whisper now.
SEAN looked around. “Where’s, um, *Olive*. She hasn’t been –”
“She’s up in the monastery for a while. Because, you know, that thing with the giraffe.”
“That’s just something she made up. She doesn’t want to hang around us any more. Thinks us *juvenile*.”
“Not true.” But was it true? “*Anyway*, speaking of Olive — glad you brought her up — because she showed me a *trick* before she left.”
“Another one?” SEAN responded, use to such things.
“Yeah. So you’ve got your advanced menu on your viewer we told you to show a while back. Don’t you?” She stared at SEAN until he nodded. “Uh huh.” He then checked and breathed a sigh of relief that he’d actually done something they requested for a change, the crazy gals.
“Well, pull that down. Go to, um, *render*, then uncheck ‘volume’.”
“Okay. Trying to follow.”
“Ho. What is *that*?”
“That, my green friend, is Kraken Hill. And *that’s* what this town is trying to cover up — *has* covered up. That’s why everyone is moving away. It’s all baloney on the surface. Hogwash.”
“Watch your mouth, girl.” But then SEAN “Green” Penn kept staring around with volume unrendered, trying to take it all in. It made sense! This was truth she spoke.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0209, Corsica, Storybrook^
Penning 02
The Ant returns to his temple.
As soon as he enters the tunnel he hears the phone ringing with his sharp ant ears.
Hurrying upwards, he realizes who it must be.
“Oh dear, oh *dear*.”
At the top he desperately looks around for the phone. Where did he put it last? The rings persist. She won’t let up, he knew. Maybe he left it upstairs. The rings seem closer than that, but he decides to check. Can’t find it down here after all.
Up he goes!
Yes. Closer now. But *where*?
Aah. *There* you are.
But then he remembers it’s not a ring you can actually answer.
—–
“Still no answer, Green. I bet he’s a thousand miles away from here, pheh.”
“Maybe you should give it up for today, Pink,” Marsha’s closest friend SEAN wisely advised. “There’ll be other gigs.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0110, Corsica, Splinterwood^, Storybrook^
Knew
“Shoot girl. You shouldn’t be smoking in here. And why do you want to go to New York City anyway? There’s nothing but trouble there.”
“Because it’s in the–”
SEAN “Green” Penn swung toward her while interrupting. “*Don’t* say contract. I don’t want to hear about no contract.” SEAN knew he had the appearance of a white child to Marsha “Pink” Krakow, about the same size and also color as herself but a boy instead of a girl. He was indeed “Green,” the grocer’s kid originally from Kraken but now living down on Southside Bay in a houseboat.
“Why not? You signed one too.”
“I did *not* sign a contract.”
“But… you *showed* it to me.”
“I,” and SEAN rapped the table in front of him with an index finger to punctuate, “signed a piece of paper, girl. *Piece* of *paper*.” He sat back, looking at her, gauging her reaction to this truth. They stared at each other for a while, as if exchanging information through their eyes. And perhaps they were.
“Baloney,” she finally uttered to break the tension. “Hogwash. You just don’t want to go to New Orleans.” She threw up her arms in exasperation, and then he did too.
“Who said *anything* about New *Orleans*? We were *talking* about New York, and how to cross Arthur Kill to get there.” But then he remembered as Marsha “Pink” Krakow before him kept shaking her head. He was already *there*. In a bar that plays the Blues.
Or was it Little Rock.
Turns out the bar plays blues and a little rock. And it was in Little Rock. SEAN “Green” Penn was the main act tonight. He had yet to meet Pink. Or Olive. It was 5 years in the past. He only had 5 years to make this right, 5 years to make this right, 5 years to make this right…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0106, Ashenlave^, Corsica, Storybrook^
Sunklands 