Tag Archives: Mary Tyler/Chuckles Greentop^^~~~~~~!

narcissist

“You’re not going to Mary… me?”

“No,” Hector Horace Howard said in response. “You are for another, alas.” He added the last word in as improvisation. He looked toward the director for approval, with none coming. He was looking for himself.

—–

In other local news, Hatti, the witch who told everyone at her doorstep to go away, has gone away herself, house (and also apparently hat) deleted. I think we have yet another piece of the overall picture puzzle.


“Goodbye 108. Goodbye V-Gate.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0505, Nautilus^^, Rim Isles

(wo-)man in black

He unfortunately found himself on the opposite side of the Greek village from the parish, staring into a mirror and admiring himself. Typical.

Later he went down to visit John. Jack was now playing the preacher, churches over liquor stores. A marriage was taking place. John was not allowed to perform marriages. Not after Reno.

“We need to *talk*,” he hissed over as the “I dos” were spilled out like fine wine.

“Meet me at the bar,” he whispered calmly back. Bells rang out. It was over.

(to be continued?)

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00280317

He didn’t get much information from that pothead Pine Ridge but he understood Lamb had flown the coup. Peter Paul and Mary I mean here, featured in photo-novel 05 and a bit of photo-novel 06 if memory serves. Mr. Babyface came here to try to persuade his nephew Paul (and the rest) to return to the Land of the Living, as he called it, get away from this Hana Lei and its huffing and puffing and boys bringing more rolled up paper all the time, just like clockwork. You pay them, they come and never stop, the jerks. “Vicious cycle,” he said. “You’ll end up like Syd,” he furthered, pointing out the famous downfall of one of Paul’s rock heroes. “Dead… or worse. Dead in your head, which goes beyond physical death because the mind goes beyond the body. You better think about that the next time you take a shower with that cat soap you like.” He decides to leave it at that. Paul stares at him, much like Roger stared at Jacob later on, all glazy eyed, like a glossy pot ready to go to market, ready to have another plant inside it. He didn’t need to ask the Time because he knew what it was, shortly followed by Money, shortly followed by death. And worse. Brain Damage.

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monsters

“Tennessee, pheh,” she uttered, staring over at the fake, flat snowy mountains standing in for the real ones just behind. “Come on, George,” she urged to the meditating youth gazing out in the other direction. “Let’s go see what this *Abyss* is all about.” She starts walking toward the stairs, still talking. “Nothing to be afraid of, George. So says TILE.” Was Clare losing her faith? Now that she remembers the whole of the Wheeler existence? Do we even need to be asking this? I believe it is so.

“Come on come on come on.”

“Oh all *right*.” George was enjoying the meditation. He didn’t want to encounter the Abyss just now.

—–

“Well, here we are at the mouth of this thing. You-go-first.”

“Me? But I’m just a kid.”

“You’re no kid. *Go*. Protect me if you must.” She sweeps her hand forward. “Off you go,” she commands again. “Come on come on come on.” This was not like Clare Nova, who was sweeter. This was the orders of Wheeler. Fully clowned now, she needed to find out what she was facing at the end.

—–

“What do you see in there?” called Clare-Wheeler from just outside the mouth now.

“I don’t know,” replied George. “Skulls. Candles. Lots of skulls and candles.”

“That’s the Abyss part,” said Wheeler. “What else is in there? Look in the corners, along the walls. Look *beyond* the normal.”

“There’s nothing *normal* about this place.”

“*Try*,” she urged. “I’ll be right here, ready to help if needed.” She definitely wasn’t going to help. If the power behind the Abyss got George, then another one would fill his spot. Just like she did with Clare. George could die, yes. *Duncan* had already died, maybe several times — hard to keep up. But Baker Bloch will continue on. Along with herself it seems.

“Um. Oh yeah, Mother Mary. I guess that’s good. But then a, let’s see, Medusa Gorgon beside her. Not so good.”

“Great. Keep looking. Maybe something in writing?”

“Well, the Gorgon is holding a, er, book it looks like.” He stands on his tippy toes. “But I can’t see the cover… (strain) to tell what it is.”

“Get that book,” Clare-Wheeler commands. “Just *grab* it from her.”

Dare he?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0502, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara^^

Abyss, The

“A boy 13 to 10 and back to 13 and over and over. Obviously this is TILE, W.”

“(Small) ‘e’ to (large) ‘E’,” she agreed. “5 to 8, gaining 3. Years in this case.”

“Yellow to blue.” He looked out at the sky, the suns rising over the horizon. Horizings.

“But what of the step-down?” she continued in this vein. “The 12, then the 11, back to 10 and then back to 13, over and over?”

“Children according to the TILE documents and creeds. Red and green. Gred. Or Reen.”

“Redgreen. I remember that place. A place of war.”

“7 and 6. Mixed up. Which is higher, which is lower? Confusion in the middle. And by extension…”

“At both ends. Hi becomes lo. Hilo.”

“But one thing we agreed,” he offered as a compromise. “The Abyss plays no role in the end game. Because the Abyss has no real power. Only illusion.”

“Like static.” She squelched the urge to tack on the state names of Tennessee and Kentucky to this. It would all play out.


Tennessee. And Kentucky.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0501, Purden/Snowlands^, Sansara^^

wedding 03

Weddings at St. Mary’s traditionally took place after the Munday sermon so Preacher Stephan had to sacrifice a Renaldo O’Donnell clown first to appease the Gods. Tradition as well.

“Oops, that was a real squirter Pitch, ha.” The Darklys excused themselves to go home and wash clothes.

Afterwards church officials found the sacrificial altar was too heavy to move, so they made do with a cheap wedding booth found buried in a pile of junk at the back of the annex. Toothpick and Elberta then said their “I do’s” to Preacher Ziegler, since Preacher Stephan, a Northerner, refused to acknowledge the Deep South tradition of marrying siblings as kosher.

At the reception, Marty sang one of his beautiful love ditties to Saffie sitting with Toothpick, Elberta and best man Zapppa, hoping to get a better rental unit out of it.

Time to cut the cake. Big Wanda becomes annoyed about the orange butterflies that keep flying off her head in the excitement and leaves the task solely to Toothpick.

As feared, Her Majesty the local bigfoot/yeti came up from the new hole behind St. Mary’s to pay her respects to the newlyweds but was surprisingly controlled by the Corona-V pirates and ended up not eating anyone.

Lastly: group picture. Everyone had a laugh about all the innuendos.

And that’s it! Log another Collagesity or Sunklands photo-novel in the books.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0705, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, NWES Island^

Temple tales 01

Harry stares outside the picture at the Earth and sees it is good. What an oddball.

On the same floor, Baker Bloch bangs out the entire organ version of Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” before raising his hands from the keyboard and realizing he can’t play. That was vampire alter ego Pitch Darkly’s talent, who hasn’t been seen in a number of photo-novels. I lose count. 18 — that’s it. Or was it 12?

Ahh, *there* he is. It was Pitch all along — should’ve know. Just had to turn the camera the other way. The lack of a reflection in the organ’s strangely placed mirror should have tipped me off. Along with, of course, the deft keyboard fingering.

“Play that other Russian ‘sky’ composer I love so much,” listening wife Mary Tyler requests. She wanted Moore. And Pitch complies by belting forth “The Rite of Spring” to her great pleasure, although early on she was knocked off her perch on the organ by the heavy vibrations. Good vibrations, though, and Mary still grooved to them while laying on the floor.

She took the opportunity to also stare at the static filled tv placed nearby she was edging closer to with each crashing chord — temple must have been tilted a bit in that direction — and fell into a trance, dreaming about a trip to the Beach. Except it was The Beech. Here we come!

Upstairs:

“Iiiiii… Iiiiiii…”

“Almost got it,” Carrcassonnee adjusting MAT (Man About Time) declares hopefully but perhaps also futilely. We’ll see soon enough.

Excuse me. I have to contact someone.

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Tuscumbia

“So you have blue-green hair now, Wheeler. Blue… green.” She didn’t need to look. She’d seen it all before.

“Yeah. I changed it for Axis. And he changed it for me. He’s got blue-green energy lines all *over* his body now.”

“Axis, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s a Tron thing for him now. ‘Lamb’.”

“Not Tropp? True Opp or whatever he went by?”

“The old boyfriend?” responded Wheeler Wilson/Venus, taking another sip and wiping her mouth again. So refreshing. Water. “Nah. He’s gone back to New Eden I suppose. I — I really don’t know what he’s doing,” she admitted to her old Collagesity friend. And still a friend. Mary’s just a good person like that. Shows up when needed.

“You should keep up with him,” Mary requested, knowing full well deep down that Axis and this Tropp were one and the same. Same body, same head. Same man.

“I suppose I should.” Another sip. Wheeler wonders why this is so delicious. She can’t get enough!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0501, Hana Lei^^

twinned

“I’m not sure I’m going back to this Bena, Mary. I was laughed at in the bar! And — I miss you.”

Pitch’s wife Mary, as usual around any body of water, was reeling reeling reeling them in. Perch always. It was the only fish around.

“If you don’t go back,” she explained patiently, “then you’ll never find out what happened. Keep close to Rebl. She’ll guide you through.”

“How about — *you*? Can you come as well? It’s the same house we have — had in Collagesity. Still have, except it lays empty there.” He picked at the laces of his boots. “Just like here.”

“We must choose Pitch Darling.”

Darkly, though Pitch, then realized who he was talking to. And he knew what the choosing meant. Collagesity or Corsica? It could come down to that.

Mary suddenly switched over to the other side for more action.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0206, Corsica^^, Southwest^

(last?) straw

“Alright Mr. Pitch Darkly darling. You have suffered enough on the America’s flag. You are allowed to see Mr. Burster Dang in the bamboo park this morning.”

“*Finally* You hear that down there Mary?”

“I heard,” she gurgled upward.

—–

“So what gives, Burster? I mean, Buster?”

“Just lay there and don’t move. And talk *through* the bamboo as much as possible. The bamboo is sacred, the bamboo is healing.”

Pitch Darkly intuits he wants to add on something like, “All Hail the Wild Green Grass,” even if Buster doesn’t say it out loud. What made him think this? Then something else came in his mind. “Is — this an audition?” he asked.

Buster became even more serious. “Annaliza. Will you kindly leave Pitch and me alone for a moment.”

Annaliza hesitates, but then acquiesces, bowing deeply before departing in silence. Pitch wanted to shout, “Are you all right down there!” to Mary, but knew she couldn’t hear through the floor. She wasn’t allowed (again). This was very, very wrong.

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