Tag Archives: MAYOR

April 9, 2025 · 8:06 am

00460312

“There she is, Emily. The new mayor.”

“*Not* the same as the old mayor,” replied Emily, trying not to look behind her. It was hard. And what was all that butterfly, um, *gear* she was wearing? But it was just all part of her power. She couldn’t help asking aloud, though. She leans over, and says not far above a whisper: “Butterflies?”

“All part of the power; perks of the job,” responded Charlene. Knew it.

“Who would *want* that?” Still leaning, still just above a whisper.

“I hear ya. But…” she decides to say since they were leaning in to each other, being more secretive. “What about Wolvie?”

“What *about* Wolvie?” Emily says.

“You know, because he’s, ahem, the mayor’s son. Like I’m the mayor’s daughter. *Old* mayor. And *Shelley*.”

“Shelley’s not in this story,” shot back Emily New Moon, tired of hearing about the old. New is the thing now. And Wheeler fits right in, she thinks. She’s tired of the mother-daughter-son talk, the Unholy Triangle. Speaking of which…

—–

“I wish, Edward, that you’d be more sympathetic to my plight. I’m *married*.” Edward, her Ed, was in danger of fading away himself under her new butterfly power and he knew it. Wheeler had to disappear in order for him to even been seen atall in this setting. He had no other choice than to wait in the background, biding his time. At the backwards flowing waterfall.

(to be continued)

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April 8, 2025 · 9:34 pm

00460311 (3Ms)

“Are we keeping you up, Ms. Wilson?”

“Oh. *Sorry*.” Wheeler quickly moved her feet off the table, sat up straight. She realized she’d made perhaps a grave mistake falling asleep at the employment assessment meeting here in The Burg. But it was all part of the play, the fun and games. None of this really mattered except *as* in a play. “I’ve been, ahem, sleeping in my car lately,” she tried to excuse her pretend drowsiness. “After I left my last job.”

“And, let’s see, that’s as a maid, I see. Interesting job description. All sorts of tasks — laundering, ironing, vacuuming, window cleaning, in a, quote unquote, semi-aquatic setting? Can you explain further?”

Yes, it was a skybox partially filled with water. My 2 feet were always wet, she started the joke she’d prepared beforehand. Make that 3-4 feet since the water went that high, ha ha.”

Wanda Wilma Willa Brown Halter didn’t laugh or even smile. “I’ll just add to my notes: owner fetish,” which Wheeler knew would be pretty correct. She knew she was always being looked over. “So… why did you choose The Burg to come to after this, Ms. Wilson? Your old job was in the upper east central lower part of Nautilus, which is a virtual hemisphere away from here.”

“I have a friend here,” she lied or pretended. “Charlene Brown, er, just Charlene Brown. You may even be related. I couldn’t help noticing your Brown middle name on your card.”

“Charlene Brown and I are *not* related,” she returned quite firmly. Charlene was Downtown, she (Willa): Uptown. The two sets of townspeople which include the two sets of Browns try not to mix. Clean and Dirty was another way she thought of them. Ms. Wilson here, she thinks, seems to fall into the Downtown category too despite the maid cleaning background. She’d deduced, correctly, there was a dirty aspect to that too. Friends with Charlene who’s also friends with fellow Downtowner Emily New Moon the smut store manager — that also fits. Sounds like the pay was for *show*.

And this time, she did crack a smile. She thought of Wheeler Wilson’s leg tattoos as well, the blue and red fish making their way up the right one to who knows where. She imagines a homecoming fish bowl for the 2 on her stomach for some reason. Reinforcement of The Core.

The meeting ended with Willa determining the only job Wheeler was qualified for was the just vacated mayor’s position, highest actually being lowest in this here Burg. Straightening her hem so you couldn’t follow her fish too high, she sat up and (reluctantly?) shook Willa’s hand to seal the deal. Mayor Wheeler Malone Wilson she is. Again.

(to be continued)

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April 5, 2025 · 10:41 pm

00460307

“Hi Bob. I guess you *saw*.”

“Yup. Took her long enough to get here.”

“Tell me about it. How’re the pipe repairs going?”

“Slow too. Funds running out in town I guess you’ve heard. Mayor’s going to hold an emergency meeting next week.”

“Yeah I heard.” Of course she’s heard. She’s dating both the mayor’s daughter and mayor’s son at once. She gets gossip in both ears at night. But… she must make a decision soon. Which side of Mother’s ocean she likes to collect the shells from.

“Welp, better get back to it. While we have the money.”

“Right. Just going down to see Charlene. Be back in a moment. You try to do your work a little *quieter* out here, he he he.”

“Ho ho,” says Bob, starting to drill a 2″ bore hole in a sewer line. But she was serious. Please the f- be a little *quieter* out here, she begs internally. And… hurry the f- up with these repairs why don’t you. If funds are running out, shouldn’t you be doing double time out here? But maybe she’s not thinking straight because of the noise. Anyway…

“Byyye.”

—–

“Have you heard, Charlene?”

“About the town meeting? Sure sure. I’ll be there with bells on I suppose.”

“NO. *She* came.”

“She?”

“Yeah, you know. HER.”

“Umm… oh, you mean Blue Moon Kentucky the so called pop idol. Yeah she stopped in the shop here looking for the video store. But she couldn’t help checking out her section over there to see what I’d stocked before she left. Not much — just 1 album from her solo period. That’s the only stuff I can even stand from her. I think she was kind of wearing a bit of a scowl when she left, ha.”

“But, Charlene, the *plan*. She knows that I know and I know that she knows.”

“So you told her?”

“NOooo. It was just a look,” Emily tried to explain.

“A look,” Charlene said rather skeptically.

“Yeah. A look. She knows. I know.”

“Hmm.”

(to be continued)

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March 1, 2025 · 2:47 pm

00460105 (Broadwater)

Edward knew he was a fictional character and decided to do something about it. Logical endpoint: Shelley’s mother Wheeler. Over on Omega.

“It’s about time,” she said from within, not looking up from her book. History of the continent. Fascinating.

https://bakerbloch.com/2022/10/22/00350301/

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September 22, 2024 · 6:20 am

00440215 (Tin)

“Of course I knew Cary, of course I knew Madison,” she says more to her audience beyond the 4th wall than the actual person in the room with her. “One was the former sidekick of world famous musician Jonny Silverhhand of Sunamai, now fronting his own almost as famous band. One was the future mayor of the whole of frigg’n Nightsity itself. But how do they fuse… here in Kabusie?” She turns back to the window, staring at it as if she can see through the blinds — not blinded. “What secrets are you holding in your narrow alleys, your… canals and notwhat? Channels, something.” She blows out cigarette smoke toward it, as if trying to obscure the secrets even more.

“Well. I’m glad we cleared *that* up,” I said, watching the smoke dissipate into the blinds and the light between them.

“Yees. But you’re here for your assignment of course. Wondering when we’d ever get around to it.”

“Well…”

(to be continued)

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May 11, 2024 · 3:50 am

00420616

“It’s simply beautiful here, Barry. But –”

“Why did I wait so long to show you this?”

“Well… *yes*.” It could have help swayed my judgement, she thinks. She could still change her mind, but… a contract was signed. Wendy’s Hot Dog Restaurant is a go! Except switch hot dogs with hamburgers and meat byproducts to just pure beef. Okama talked her into it, just as he talked himself into giving up the dream of taking over the Dream Emulator band and kicking everyone else out except maybe classically trained guitarist No Lag V, which they usually just shorten to No Lag. He’d assume the mayor’s position of Kangarootown instead, recently vacated by disgraced Golden Jim, fired because he’d called the wrong person the wrong name, it seems. Anyway, Okama = Mayor, Okama invites Wendy to open her restaurant in his former K-Town store (basically just a store for mouse traps, he said, waiving off the inconvenience), and then giving her a 25 year month lease on the place for 500 lindens a month. That’s the contract signed; too good of a deal to pass on; had to act fast, she felt, lest he or she changed his or her mind. And her affections returned to Bastard — wherever he is up there on the Red Dead planet. St. Dennis, she’d heard for a possible location. She hadn’t given up hope that he not only lives but thrives, and is just waiting for the right time to invite her up too. Hmm, but she’s locked into a lease now. She better think about a second in command just in case.

“I was waiting for the right time,” Barry finally answered, allowing Wendy’s internal monologue to unfurl in a proper manner. “I thought–”

“We could go steady?”

“Well…”

“Barry. I still have Bastard — you know, Jim Randolph the Bastard Pirate.”

“But… he’s dead,” answers Barry to this.

“No, I refuse to believe that.”

“But… they found his *skeleton*, the Red Dead crew did. They *buried* him… out to sea.”

“No. Not true. I *sense* he exists still. I’m just not sure how.”

“All those rumors about him surviving and living in St. Dennis are just that. Fiction — fable. The skeleton in the boat was *his*. There was even his trusty sword to go along with it. Wendy — face it.” He makes her face him. “He’s gone.”

She was tempted to slap him for the stubbornness. But after all, as Okama Majo also pointed out, *he* has Hucka Doobie now. She substituted the slap with that harsh declaration.

Barry quickly looked away, almost as if he’d been slapped anyway. “She’s with someone else, I’ve heard. A Marion Star Harding. Never met the guy. But he predates me, even. Last I heard he’s in Gaston. Do you know of Gaston? I had to learn about it. I learned it from–” He stops. He realizes the irony, the *synchronicity* of the matter.

He recalls piecing together a document about the place. From wadded up papers strewn about his shed near the Pink Motel. Home.

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May 9, 2024 · 12:35 pm

00420614 (buck the system?)

He briefly though of slamming the door on her face and leaving her out on the lawn but he took in the different dress and the removal of Alpha and changed his mind. After all, he’d changed a bit too since their last meeting in section 02 with the whole Aisle of Palms band experience.

“Come in I suppose,” he said as he held the door open for her.

—–

After settling in on his comfy couch, she made it clear up front that she wasn’t interested in his building ideally located in the heart of town any longer. Red topped like her; she noted in sitting down that the place was plainly visible through the bay window behind the couch (see above). She told him of the recent dream down in Castle Town where he was made up completely of edible vegetables. This made her change her diet that very night. “Salad and a *little* fish,” she said about the supper we’ve seen her eating previously in this here blog and attached photo-novel, 8 posts back by now. “Barry — that’s my new boyfriend down there; anyway, Barry insists that the blood stains will be gone soon.” She indicated her Carolina blue dress again and the newly introduced element besides the removal of Alpha. The subtraction of latter seems to depend on the addition of the former, if only temporarily. Or at least that’s what Barry told her. And he was certainly enjoying the absence of Alpha and all the benefits derived thereof. He could live with the blood for a while.

“This… *Barry*,” started Okama Majo again, truly curious about more details.

“Barry DeBoy, yes,” said Wendy in the gap (Wendy Gap). “Like Barry the Boy except with a De instead of a The.”

“Very interesting, yes,” spoke Okama with only a little sarcasm. He decided he couldn’t just blurt out what was in his mind. He would simply assume they had a proper relationship; he’d heard rumors in K-town when she was here. “Has no parts down there as well as up here,” whispered one of the concerned citizens while indicating the appropriate places on her body, an ally for Okama and desiring the town remain a hot dog free zone against the wishes of *then* mayor Golden Jim. For his position had changed too. And now a good chunk of residents are pushing for Okama himself to assume the job; fill the vacancy. So there was a political element in the way Okama treated Wendy. He had to leave the door open for *that* possibility as well. If the band thing didn’t pan out long-term.

But he also had the opposite dream: completely take over the Dream Emulators, kick out, right at the start of the coup, the SUUEEEY! calling kid named Don and probably animated singer Shelley as well, leaving only No Lag. For he kind of wished to steer it in a classical direction away from rock too. He had his Dream Emulator dream and it sort of looked like this. He would become Sato, in essence, channel the higher being from the North.

So: two pulls here. How Wendy answered the next question could be the tipping point.

“Wendy, I hate to bring this up, but there’s Bastard to think of. And Barry already has Hucka. Have you conveniently forgotten these plot factors? Or are you a rogue actor now? I’ll say it again: Are – you – rogue?”

For if she was, maybe he could be too.

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May 2, 2024 · 10:40 pm

00420609

He caught up with some reading while she was gone, the cafe having a nice selection of books in back of the bar — 3 tall bookcases full. He was interested in travel books, since he was stuck in Castle Town for a while, unable to leave because of several physical conditions plaguing him at once. Mr. Goldilocks, Wendy liked to call him, because up top he was susceptible to cold while down below: the heat. The waist, she pointed out, represents the equator, the only place things are right. Too bad you can’t live there perpetually, she says. Between the Tropic of Cancer (points to chest) and the Tropic of Capricorn (points to private parts) where it’s not too hot not too cold. Great Belt she also called it for reasons unknown presently.

So because of this Barry stayed behind; didn’t venture with Wendy to Kangarootown to confront Okama Majo once more about his seemingly dirty tricks at the time. Cats’ litter boxes unclean, he knew. Ran out of “burny sticks” as she said he called them, so the place was cold when she and mayor Golden Jim arrived — stank like urine too. But this was her beef, her karma, he said to make another excuse besides the bodily conditions. “You’re the one who has to make two wrongs a right,” he said to her before she left, tickets in hand. “Last chance,” she said back. “The sky ferry is only half full last time I checked. You can sit by my side. I’ll help you with your issues, pass you an ice pack when you need it, a hot water bottle when you need that instead or in addition.” “In addition, yeah,” he said, knowing he’d often need both at once. But he’d already made up his mind: he wasn’t going. He had books to catch up on, videos to watch as well back in his topside apt. graciously provided by the town council. For he was something of a cult hero in these here parts, having famously saved the city of NWES City over on the Jeogeot continent from, let’s call it, abstraction. Drew it back into the real by drawing the real. One work of genius popped out after another. Soon everyone remembered why their town — nay, their *city* — was so great in the first place. The buildings, the people, the food, the arts, the crafts, the beaches, the sand, the sun, the *fun*. He must go back there too.

If only he could get rid of these bodily issues once and for all, pheh.

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March 8, 2024 · 8:10 pm

00420214

Okama Majo rests comfortably on Fuzzy Wuzzy, his devious plan fulfilled. Heat back up to normal in his house — no need for exercise to generate warmth now. Cat litter cleaned and deodorized — no urine smell about the place. Wendy: gone. His similarly red topped store in the center of Kangerootown safe, phew!

And all because he switched around some of the language in his report to mayor Golden Jim, who passed it on to town council chair Newt for a final decision. Just a bit, and all from one sentence. It wasn’t that hot dogs from reporting companies in the referenced study contained 5 percent human DNA but instead that 5 percent of these reported *some* human DNA in their product, probably from workers’ hair or skin cells and so on. The words stayed exactly the same. He was just passing it along. If he gets caught he has what he feels is an air tight alibi of that it was someone *else’s* responsibility to proofread the document and make sure the words were in the right order.

Original sentence:

“5 percent of all reporting companies found human DNA in their hot dogs.”

Altered sentence:

“All reporting companies found 5 percent of human DNA in their hot dogs.”

Back to sleep after reviewing his alibi once more. Beloved warmth again. Makes him feel so lazy. Like a cat, he realizes. A sly, conniving cat. “Night night, Fuzzy.”

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March 5, 2024 · 5:03 am

1 day even earlier…

I found they’d arranged for me to stay with a prominent town businessman: none other than the owner of the red topped building that I’d had my eyes on ever since I arrived by boat from Wallytown earlier that day. Mayor Golden Jim escorted me over to his house on the western edge of town for introductions. We found him rocking in front of an unlit fireplace, apologizing for how cold it was and that he’d run out of “burny sticks” weeks ago.

Golden Jim immediately scolded him for this. “I told you Wendy would be arriving today; I told you to get your house in order; I could have gotten you all the firewood you could fit into this place of yours, pheh.” He looked around at the numerous cats roaming around here and there while sniffing the air. “And you could have done something with these *animals* as well. Place smells like urine.”

He stood up and turned toward us. An okama! A man who was basically half woman, although I’d never seen one up close and personal like this. He said his name was Majo, and then he leapt on a nearby cube stool face first and proceeded to do some kind of yoga exercise on it, another type of rocking.

“Feel free to use Fuzzy Wuzzy over there to jump in place a while and get your body temperature up. I do 30 jumps 30 times a day now, but I’m always doing this, cold or not. That’s why I keep the house cold because I’m so warm from all the exercise. My apologizes again, fair Wendy.” He stood up once more, approached us, looked me over head to frick’n foot. “Wendy of Alpha I believe,” he said with a kind of disapproving smirk on his face. He was staring right through me.

“No takers for Fuzzy Wuzzy? Very well…”

“… 28 (jump), 29 (jump), *30*,” and he leapt down on the other side now, approaching me until his face was only about 6 inches from mine. “I’ve heard you’re here for my *store*.”

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