“What’s the scoop on the poop?” It was the most logical question in the world, but Pansy didn’t have an answer. Yet. He knew it was still up to Dr. Mouse, despite the rain in the brain. What’s the rain in the brain? could be a follow up question.
—–
We were going quite far tonight, exploring the Amazon more. STOP
Looks like we’ll have to stop.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0509, Amazon
“Beaver,” decided the littlest mouse perched between Pansy’s ears, noting the flattish tail.
Smoking and toking Lemmy on his back had nothing to say about the matter, facing away. Pansy knew this was an important decision for the future of his franchise — *their* franchise, because he had to keep the creator in the picture for all those photo ops later on. But Dr. Mouse had, how do I put it delicately? Let’s just go with Brain Damage still to seal the deal. Endless triangle, endless loop, the yelloo sun far far away, hidden by night. Jasper knows. Jasper knows this is a beaver. His head is just below the water, right Jasper? Sorry: “Right Jasper?”
“Yeah boy.” Jasper is the littlest mouse between the ears, with the primary speaker being Pansy himself, who combed all through those drone shots the day before and the day before that, looking for any anomalies. They could get no closer.
—–
It was a place of wisdom, of learning, this Amazon or Amazon-like environment. 12 sims total, just like the river tiles of Carcassonne (game).
“The Source is missing,” corrected W, again just over there somewhere, just around the corner or out of sight. I still can’t see her secret, schweet smile. “12th,” she clarifies. “Find the 12th. Or at least have fun doing it. See you later!”
—–
“Yarrow,” spoke wise Dr. Mouse, or so he thinks. “Spirit of Yarrow over the head. Delete it and you’re lost. This island…”
“It’s not an island,” one the “pupils” dare speak up, I think it was the right one.
“You over there!” shouted the obviously mad man now. “Against the wall! It’s the kane for you again, pheh pheh pheh.” Dr. Mouse was panting he was so mad. Both mad *and* mad: both kinds. The worst possible combination. Whack whack whack! came the stick to the pants. The right pupil was obviously wrong. And later he became left behind in 5th as the other pupil or pupils graduated to 6th. It was Paul’s switch all over again.
—–
“So you’re the famous or infamous Dr. Paul Mouse,” spoke Duncan from the opposite stump later on, as if between 2 pupils, 2 ears. “Knew it.”
“Glad you could make it tonight, W.” But her schweet smile still remained hidden since Duncan didn’t have any teeth behind his lips.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0508, Amazon
“Jasper, take a look at this photo one of the drones took over the Amazon and settle a bet with us. Does that look like a beaver to you, because Marion says it’s a propeller.”
Jasper studies the photo. “Where’s his head?”
“Well, it’s underwater obviously. And you have a tail and and two little arms sticking out plain as day.”
“And how about this picture of a swimming pool while we’re at it. Do you think that’s suppose to be Vermont, or New Hampshire?”
—–
She floated on the two lips joined together in the center of the pool. She kept glancing anxiously over at Dr. Mouse and his greatest creation, Pansy, conferring about the deal at a table on the cement’s edge. She wondered how it was going. Copyright infringement? Trademark protection? That’s how it all started, this conference in the Amazon. A River runs through it, Source to Mouth. Or Lake. George had traded places with a girl, Hitgirl to be precise, not selling corndogs any longer at a Southwest Airport. Or cornogs I suppose I should say. But hot dogs remain in the news. 6 dead now in in Slaashsides over in the nw part of Nautilus continent, with the last squirted with both mustard and ketchup, indicating his kind. That brought it to the attention of Dr. Mouse, who then asked Pansy to enter the picture for more visiblity. He was planning on a national campaign. The Pooping Pigeon was going to mean big time money, big time power. It was a built in headliner.
“A chain of restaurants,” shot back the doctor. They were exchanging ideas rapid fire.
“Chocolate. No: vanilla,” came the squeaky reply. “Like the color of the…..”
“Poop. Just say it, Pansy. Don’t be afraid of the word. It’s going to make us a fortune.”
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0507, Amazon, Nautilus, New Hampshire, NORTH, Slaashsides, Vermont
Jeffrey Phillips stands on the edge of the larger of the two Corton islands, staring across the bridging log at the lesser one. Meeting place, he ruminates. But who with? And where is Wheeler?; she was just behind me.
—–
Alone at the center of the second he morphs into a Mouse again. The Gods look down from above.
“He soo wants to change. For Charlene the Punk. For others perhaps. He wants to be a good ruler (of Collagesity).”
“He understands his roots in Twin Peaks’ Phillip Jeffries and that’s a good jumping off spot or point,” spoke the other, maybe a female this time. Let’s call her Ayesha.
“If he puts on the red Judy shoes that would help.”
“The slippers,” agrees Ayesha. Let’s say the male’s name in this scenario is Walter. Walter Westinghouse. From Homerland.
“All he has to do is click the heels three times and he’s home,” says Walter, who should know. “He doesn’t have to go through all this pain and sorrow. He doesn’t have to pass through Gormania, West Virginia.”
“All that has been taken car of,” spoke Ayesha, thinking about the bike and then the inability of Jeffrey Phillips to fit into the rest of his band of pink punks. He had his “revenge”: Syd to SID. And then, collaterally, TILE to Tyle. Mercury X. Rising at the center of the labyrinth remains in love with his car. Phillip Jeffries as snow white Pansy looks on.
“He’ll get there,” reinforces Walter. But not tonight, both knew, watching him revert to old form. Jeffrey Phillips walks away from the center of the second, intent on finding Wheeler back in the small woods of the first. Maybe I just inadvertently skipped over a post, creating a plot hole (‘nother one).
—–
“Yes, see there, Wheeler?” he said, pointing with his cane. “A hole in the terrain, or the real plot (of ground) showing through the facade.”
“Who are you old man?” spoke a concerned Wheeler just out of camera range again. “And what have you done with Jeffrey Phillips??”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0610, Nautilus, Rim Isles, West Virginia
I didn’t get out of the pod, which had turned into a boat. Soon enough I was darting toward Dizneyland, probably Pansy as well. I could only hope.
I stepped out of the boat and walked across the entry dock as quietly as I could. Maybe if I didn’t wake up anyone I could get out of this alive.
A squeaking board. “Halt!!”
Nope.
—–
We ate supper that night in silence. The knife we used to cut the pizza lay just beyond reach. I had two options as I saw it. We could either kill each other… or kiss each other. But this was Wheeler, I reminded myself. A Blurmaid — blue mermaid — but still: Wheeler. The whole separation of state and power came back to me like a punching fist, a jabbing knife. Looks like killing is the option.
“CUT!!” the director shouted behind the scenes. “That was GREAT. Now do it like you’re two monkeys climbing up a tree to grab the same banana. Annnnd ACTION!!”
The improv suggestion didn’t work. We sat there still, staring at each other. If I could only describe the look in her eyes. Two pools… whirlpools perhaps. I wish I was somewhere else.
—–
I was in the Temple now, having just completed the second of 2 whirls of the rainbow labyrinth on the bottom floor. Blue all around, but white here in the center. Just like her and her eyes. I was trapped like a fly between two window panes. I looked over at crooning Mercury propped up against a dead tree and understood more about what he went through.
Blue yellow red green, and then, secondly, cobalt purple orange maroon. If only there were just letters and not letters and numbers together then the world could remain perfect.
—–
“The switch from Kansas to Oz equals the switch from yellow to red as if through a door. Blue and yellow are Kansas, which remain perfect. Red and green are Oz, Munchkinland and the Yellow Brick Road to begin and encompass the whole. This *should* be perfect but it has been singly corrupted. And this is where we must understand *numbers* beyond letters. 13 in the first has been reduced to 12 in the second, with numbers adding 1/4th from the outside. This ‘outside’ is what we must really begin to understand. Because that is the direction of the Abyss and not God.”
I didn’t want to hear this TILE talk from Man About Time, attempting to explain my latest dream-reality. I knew Wheeler had created it all to teach me a valuable lesson. Don’t f-ck with mermaids. Or mice.
I am Pansy. Zero Hero.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0604, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Rim Isles, Temple of TILE
“Hearts for you, Pansy,” said one of the Certain Deaths after dealing the card. All the rest dug spades; Grumpy never had a chance.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0407, Marwood, NWES Island^
From the library window I looked up into the heart of reborn Collagesity, pansies in front of me, reminding me of, well… the truth. That Mick wasn’t real any longer; given up the Menace part. I was safe. For now.
I turned back to Bean the Librarian and asked if he had any Lafferty in the building. Funny thing, though: the pansies were still in front of me. I was on both sides of the window because I wasn’t there atall. I believe he was even laughing at me a bit.
I turned the other way and asked again and then started laughing myself, but not in a good way I gathered. My head starting spinning round.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0106, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus
“I’m tired of being a Menace, Grandpa.”
“Grumpy, please,” insisted the octogenarian soaking beside him.
“Right. You’re sure they didn’t see me.”
“No one can see you. Now.”
“But you?…”
“No one takes heed of me any more. I’m *ever-present* you could say. And I never do no talking. Being naked all the time has its advantages. No one takes you really seriously.”
Mick looked over, noted the substantial package Grumpy was obviously protecting from harm. Star in his days, he thought. Still thinks he can make a comeback in that industry; still able to keep it up for 20 or so minutes at a time. With aid from the red and blue pills. “I’ve chosen a disguise,” he says over to his one and only true, non-goofy friend in the world, now that the wife has passed away. But he doesn’t like to think about the farming accident with the tiger and the grenade down in Bellisaria. “The doctor has arranged it. He will be known later on as… the Doctor of Mouse, and then, maybe, perhaps, simply become Dr. Mouse. He will do it. He has assured me it will work.”
Grumpy Grandpa thinks back to the days when they were trying to talk him into an operation to change a body part. Too big, they exclaimed to him, catching him in the shower with it one day. Perhaps his mother, perhaps a brother — but word got around. Drew has a big package, everyone found out. The girls at the school started taking more notice of him, a lot more notice. The boys respectfully bowed their heads now when he was around, instead of taunting him with jeers about his weight and such. He had found his niche, even though he didn’t know it at the time. No more residing between a rock and a hard place.
Mick brought him out of the past. “They’ll start with the head; get rid of all the black. Just like Bendy: you know Bendy, the attendant up at the gate house.”
“No.” But Drew “Grumpy” Cleveland, aka Grandpa Cliffs, knew all about Bendy and what went right and also what went wrong with *that* operation. Disguises all around in this here Castle Town of Southern Omega.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0104, Castle Town, Omega^^, Southern
On a break, Fern rolled the prophecy cubes and then wondered who Tessa was.
She better get back to her shift at the cafe…
—–
“I wish I had better news about the twins,” Fern Stalin later exclaimed to Lichen Roosevelt at the Yalta Bar and Grill down more in the innards of Castle Town. Actually, where we saw Barry De Boy last, taking up pen and paper for the first time and setting down his palette and paintbrush. Actually: both; he’s both an artist and a writer. Just like me. We return to the present conversation…
“All in this spell book?” Lichen exclaims back, surprised at the results of the equation. Q, she thinks. Barry knew all along.
One of the twins walks in. I wish I could say it was the right one but I’m not sure.
Actually I am.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0025, 0103, Castle Town, Omega^^, Southern
“I was younger back then, still a rocker, still a moder. Cleveland had nothing on me.”
“Drew ‘Grumpy’ Cleveland?” Baker Bloch questioned, still shocked at the revelation. He hardly had breath to ask.
“Yes,” Stefan [last name still to be determined] admitted, thinking back to the lake, the peninsula. So calming after the pansies. He knew who he was… for the very first time. Then a Brendan appeared on a nearby peak and it began in earnest. He understood that this was not a bucolic paradise, and that paradise was a long way off indeed, like his sister knew before him. Brother too.
“Soooo…” Baker caught his breath again. “That’s when you began (inhale) to know… about Pansy…”
“Mouse,” Stefan completed for Baker Bloch. He held all the cards now, was playing with a full set of dice. Die — Certain Death. Red equals white. Alice in Wonderland would be proud. He let the word hang in the air again, like a kite cut loose from its tether, adrift in a sea of nothingness.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0607, Apple's Orchard, Bellisaria, Four Corners, Northern Hills, NWES Island^
Sunklands 