Tag Archives: PILL

September 17, 2026 · 1:29 pm

00510608

“God I hate that itchy thing,” O*laka* Majo complains about his doctor’s outfit he’s shedding as fast as possible now that Tony B. and Shelley J., the newly minted Silvers, are out of eyeshot and earshot and heading back to their motel kind of on the opposite side of town. Him: heading sort of the opposite way to the Dairy Queen next door to the Burger King for an actual shake in an actual proper food establishment. “Done!” he shouts with some satisfaction as he discards the last of it while sitting down, stuffing it under his table so it’ll be out of sight and hopefully out of his mind too. Return to his normal self before and between and after the crazy. He takes a deep breath.

“Fool some other dumb ass tourist with your tales about the Pill?” Dairy Queen attendant Ruby Twistytwirl calls from the counter. “Reason for the doctor’s outfit again?” she again guesses correctly.

“You bet!”

“Are they headed to the motel? *Your* motel?”

“Right,” he answers. *Swallowed the pizza story too. Swallowed it whole, exotic topping and all. They’ll be here for a while.”

“What about your *brother*? An accomplice I assume. Per usual again.”

“Oh he’s really dead this time,” he says, surprising Ruby T.

“Dead? Can’t be. He’s immortal!”

On and on this went. At one point, Olaka approached the counter, extending a hand toward 15 1/2 year old Ruby not for another shake this time but to propose marriage himself, sugar high cranked to the max. “Run away with me to the icy hills of North South Dakota Montana,” he begged, grasping the appendage tightly and on his knee now as well. She could barely keep hold of him over the counter still separating them, if just for play and giggles. The counter that represented her job, her ties to town. She could no longer run away to a glacial paradise than he. And both knew it. Instead: wedded to the town itself, this Bandanaboro of the upper east west central continent of Omega in the virtual world of Our Second Lyfe that has also become Their Second Lyfe through osmosis and also a bit because of the line of eating establishments starting with King running through Queen and ending not at Jack as one might suppose — say, visiting musicians from an exotic foreign land — but at Pizza. Plus she was a bit too young still, 16 being the minimum marrying age if not working age here in this borough of not just bananas but getting there. Only play keeps them alive.

Better move to the last of them now. tbc

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September 17, 2026 · 9:12 am

00510607

“Thank you for treating us to lunch at this fabulous eating establishment in our fair fair town.”

“Yes thank you,” echoed Preacher Ziegler, presider over their marriage as Doctor Doughmachine beside him presided over Okama’s death and subsequent quick cremation. They had to do it that way because of the Pill. Highly contagious, you see. Hiigh.

The just married, just redubbed Silvers across from them both nodded, waited for more. Tony B. was still in his wedding tux but Shelley J. had to change out of her gown for fear of ruining the train. They were scheduled to leave town on it at 10:09 tomorrow morning, Eastern Standard Time — *North Carolina* Standard Time not accidentally. Because they were subbing one for another in this deal with a devil likewise named Bandana like the borough still surrounding them and, yes, still threatening to absorb them. Even if they didn’t realize it at this time. They thought marriage would set them free. He’d been turned back to his original form of exotic pizza topping again but the talking banana’s influence would be felt for months, years, days after this. 10:09 now. Only 12 hours before the train and only 12 hours after their friend, their former Silver band member Okama Majo had passed away. And 24 hours after they originally thought of getting the marriage license, I’ll add. It all happened just that quick, as in a wink, as in an eye.

Dr. Doughmachine passed a Burger King cup across the table to the Silvers which they at first thought was a shake. But the hand stayed behind while the cup remained and they knew what it was by Doughmachine’s somber appearance. “Here. This is yours now. His body is in your hands. Do with it what you wilt.”

Frankie and Johnny, I mean, Shelley J. and Tony B. hadn’t even considered this. Where would they scatter Okama’s ashes? Certainly not this town, the place where he contracted the often fatal Pill and died as a result. Perhaps Nawt Vaya, around the Kidd Tower. It was here that Shelley considered the fate of Mr. Babyface who also lived in that structure, if not in Nawt Vaya itself. Is the Kidd Town cursed? she couldn’t help think. First Mr. Babyface with the Orgamast water funnel and now–

“Dear,” Tony B. interrupted his new wife’s reverie. “It’s time to go back to the motel. Honeymoon,” he summarized his banana fueled urges in a word while gathering up the cup with Okama’s remains. They might never leave. tbc?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0607, Bandanaboro, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nawt Vaya+, North Carolina, NVFS, Omega

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September 12, 2026 · 3:33 pm

00510516

“Silver?” I exclaimed about the name he just uttered. Like my band. At least temporarily, until Okama Majo returns from being sick on Pill. Poor guy. 5 night gig I knew, then back on the streets, back to facing the threat of abject poverty.

“Yes, Silver as in Frankie, Silver as in Charlie… Charles. First white woman in North Carolina to be executed, murder being the crime that fit the punishment, eye to eye style. As your ape-like human civilization has a penchant for,” the banana being before me continued. “Yet she claimed her husband deserved it as he abused her and threatened her own life. Many in the Burke County community where she lived backed her story. Yet only one made it back to a final resting spot on home soil queerly near by but not in Silver Chapel (Cemetery) in Bandana — like me! Instead: the smaller Silver Cemetery in Kona a little over 2 miles away. Will you help me parse out this tangle of Silvers throw in Silver Lake as well and find out what went wrong? Can you help me find… Justice?”

“Down Holy Hero Street and take a left at the courthouse,” I wanted to joke but held my tongue. Which made me think of the statue at the end of Justice facing the courthouse. Seemingly credited to a Depraved Monkey’s Club [sic: Den] if I remember correctly. Is this humanity as a whole? Will the aliens who may be the same as AI allow us to continue in this way?

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September 10, 2026 · 8:02 am

00510509 (before Jerry)

“No, that didn’t happen,” she said. “She went into the Head, true, but not down into the Body through the gullet, let’s say. No harmful pills in stomach. Got a degree in nursing instead. Or biology. Learned about what to put down there from the direction up top. Smart. Very smart.”

“But there’s always the flip side to a life gone quote unquote good. She worked her way down the food pipe. She got involved in childbirth, or worse, dancing. Dancing the pink away. She forgot all about the head. She couldn’t find her way back. Only one way out after that. One with the children.”

“She had 2 kids and their eyes were blue,” Daisy adjusted.

“3 kids,” Frank says. “All green.” tbc?

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August 15, 2026 · 12:42 pm

00510302 (the other shoe)

“So the other one held on to her apple, the chick with the red dress I also saw just earlier. Redd I’ll call her.”

“Redd, huh,” he said back while I was on my back. Couch. Psychiatrist. Clyde.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” They’d talked about a woman named Redd before. Hooker. Backseat. On his back again, getting a b. Just saying what he said.

“What do you think the dropped apple means?” he guides. “Redd holding onto her red one, but the other: butterfingers.”

“Butterfingers, yeah. Just the word *I* was thinking.” They become more in sync with each other as the session goes on. 2:54. This one’s almost over. Not untypical. Now the finish stretch.

“Let’s talk about your book then, Frank Lynn, to close. We have, let’s see (he checks his watch but he doesn’t have an arm, oh well — new one).

“What happened to your *arm*, dawg?” said Frank Lynn, noticing it for the first time since it wasn’t his writing one. Hidden by a writing pad until this new hand gesture revealed it.

“Oh.” He looks down. “Couldn’t bother to screw it on this morning. Just woke up and said, ‘screw it’ to all that… aand we’re down to 5 minutes. Can’t extend because Tom is afterwards. Tom is also a full-timer, in that he completely fills his time with me with words, pages… novels again. Each session is a novel. 4 minutes now; better speak now.”

“Speak speak speak,” says Frank Lynn, getting pretty fed up with the turn. They were soo close! He decides to just start counting down the time. “357… 356… 355.”

“Frank Lynn… please,” mildly scolds the psychiatrist, taking several pills in the gap for his pain. Perhaps the arm, perhaps the army. That shot went directly into the rear instead of the front. Back to front. But he survived to die another day.

“345… 344,” he continued.

“339?” Clyde said after 5 more, pills deep in the gullet now, about to enter the stomach. Then, just like that, they were back on the planet, walking through the tall grass, green and not any other color. Like it could be — out there. Just as it flipped all the cards were over. Tom already had one shoe in the door.

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May 18, 2026 · 6:45 am

00500303 (Transfer)

“Iowa??” Daniel eyes the red car wall decor mounted above Father Fecked sitting at the counter, knows where this is heading. Iowa?? he says to himself this time.

“Mountain in the Air,” Newt metes out. Knew he was going to say that, Daniel thinks. Roger Pine Ridge. Or was it Marty?

Turns out it was both.

——

“Roger Pine Ridge is sick on Pill. That malady is spreading throughout the state, maybe something to do with the corn I don’t know.”

“Or Hy-Vee in particular,” spouts Daniel, proud of his addition.

“Okay, *corn* in Hy-Vee, let’s say.”

“Alright.” Always has to one up me, Daniel thinks here.

“But patient 01 — or I suppose patient 00 is the way they put it…”

“Yeah?”

“Roger Pine Ridge.”

“Yeah I remember him from the blog. *And* the attached photo-novels.” Always have to tack that on after mention of the precious blog, Daniel thinks, or else Newt *could* get upset. Doesn’t always happen but he doesn’t want to take the chance. Gotta get to the bottom of this tonight. As in: bottom of the state.

“Right,” says Newt. “So he can’t sit in front of the Beaconsfield Hy-Vee, um, building, the original location. Can’t wait for Marty any longer.”

“I see.” Indeed he did. More than he wanted to let on. You see, his memory is excellent and he recalls what happened to Roger Pine Ridge at this location in the blog. “You’re… putting me in a place similar to the castle,” he reveals what he’s gleaned. “Wooden. So wooden I can’t smoke there either. And (he turns toward the 4th wall, looks for a camera), all because of a laugh? At my expense?”

“There’s the wind too,” Newt doubles down on the laughs. “You can’t smoke because of that either. Wood and wind.”

“*Great*, THANKS.”

“Have you packed your bags?” Newt asks, understanding time doesn’t exist here, not in Cedar Creek, not in Nawt Vaya either, anywhere in Our Second Lyfe. Maybe not even in Iowa.

“No. I mean: yes; what the heck: yes. I’m packed. I’m ready to go. Am… I already there?”

“Yes.” TBC?

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May 16, 2026 · 10:20 pm

00500302 (The Heartland)

Soon he’d forgotten he had weapons and armor in the first place and was instead doing a bit of light grocery shopping for the Kennedys down in the hollow who were both sick on Pill (highly contagious!). Backwards Iowa just did that to people, brought them back to Earth where they came from, made them care about their fellow humans again because there wasn’t a lot else to care about in this corn invested place of a state. Jack the husband said he wanted Kaboom cereal which he was trying to find. Fellow sugar addict and loving wife of 57 years Marge said that she preferred Lucky Charms so when he located the aisle with the cereal he’ll pick up a box of that too. Both were blind to the fact that this high sugar intake left them vulnerable to diseases like The Pill, lowered their natural immune defenses. “5 dollars should cover it all,” Jack said while handing him the bill before he climbed back up the hill into town again but he was living in the 20th Century still so Karl knew it would take quite a bit more than that to buy the stuff they requested. Luckily more in-tune-with-the-times Marge slipped him another 5 as he was going out the door — still not quite cutting it but maybe getting close enough where he could cover the rest with the two dollars a boy gave him earlier in the day for fixing a flat tire on his bicycle. That’s when he discovered he could be kind as well as mean, a kind of first in his weighed down, ghetto constricted life.

As he was checking out, he overheard bits of a conversation from the couple behind him, something about Hy-Vee here not being the grocery store it started out as, and in turning into a large chain it had lost that small village feel which made it so special in the first place. “Not like Beaconsfield, no,” said the husband of the two, obviously having a memory of this place in his head. Beaconsfield, huh, Karl thought. He’d register the name in his brain as Carla the Clerk’s register ran up $11.92 in total for the cereal. Phew! Just made it. TBC?

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July 26, 2025 · 9:14 pm

00470416

Newtown policepeople Michelle Roundup and Bill Mustardgas also formed a legitimate and formidable team but they were currently investigating the Blue Moon static murders over on the old continent of Our Second Lyfe and thus unavailable.

Nor were Ted and Cruise of the potential When Push Comes to Shovel team, still on the clock down at the motor shop and unable to get off.

Which left the following, assembled in the sewer room underneath the entrance to also absent Alfred’s grocer store (sick with pill), the heart of the matter. Starting back row to the right, we have Norris and Pietmond, 2 gypsies (don’t call them hippies!) who rammed and bammed into town from the South Gate in a most dramatic fashion back at the beginning of this here section, killing a number of Germans but defending their actions by saying they were zombies and not real people. Were they right? Let’s move on down the row and we might see.

Next are Eight and Eighty last seen in the ratskeller beneath town hall, waiting for Alessandra who is the same as a white-clad Wheeler. Wheeler mistakened one of them for town *owner* Rag Doll, but she got her position wrong in town. The owner herself will be arriving shortly to correct all that.

Moving on to the second row from the back — and also the front — we have Osborne Well and, next to him, his daughter Lou, taking the place of Ruby and Bookie who also couldn’t make it for various reasons. Next is Wheeler likewise subbing for Alessandra, but, unlike the others, not directly sitting with her partner, who would be next up in our review front row right: Newt. Then to finish our teams off we have Dimmy and Marilyn M. from the cloth shop scene a couple of posts ago.

Time for dancing around the main subject matter is over. Red clad Shelley and now black clad mate Eddy unclasp themselves from each other and leave the stage. Rag Doll takes control….

(to be continued)

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July 7, 2025 · 6:33 am

00470315

“So Ice Cube who also stands in for Eraser is dead,” observing Nauty said about the crushing of the vowel object-characters in this game of FILE. “Done in by Ruby Gem’s spell centered on All Orange. But let’s back up, examine what these fruits actually represent. Everyone has an Orange, but only females have generally recognized Apples and males have generally recognized Bananas, Big Apples and Big Bananas we can call them.  Although all have spaces on their body that can be filled with such.”

“Everyone is actually All Orange with Apples and Bananas to fill around (an agreed upon) center,” I attempted.

“Big Orange, right. Or Old Orange,” he wheezed out.

—–

Thanks to the pills she manifested in her mouth, Original Phyllis returned on the ottoman on the 2nd floor of the Crooked building in Constantynople, now depossessed or unlinked from the harmful inner spirit known as All Orange, who some call Big or even Old instead. Like Myrtle Beech for the latter. Shame we can’t get into more of her story right now but there’s only so much you can do with a 24 hour day these days. Outdoor fun like watching a tired dump truck driver unload a Big Arm beside a Big Banana in Flathardt with the help of a handy elephant can only last so long, else you run out of time for other stuff. Plus there’s the rain, the seemingly daily mountain showers and thunderstorms to contend with, PHEH. Else who *knows* what could be achieved. There would be an outdoor center congruent with the inner. But back to original Phyllis in her original role.

“Red yellow green blue,” she begins. “NO orange, NO–” She pauses. Is it about the orange? she briefly contemplates. NO, it’s not about the orange. Nor the violet. “NO violet,” she starts again in her loud, confident manner, pills in full effect now. “NO nothing else. We HAVE — our 4…..”

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March 14, 2025 · 2:23 pm

00460111

What are both Trump and Biden, the two latest presidents of these here present day United States, doing in downtown Night City ads almost a half century into the future? Probably an ad mod to the Cyberpunk 2077 game, I’m guessing, with the BD maker Lincoln having yet another US president’s name you’ll notice, hmm.

Just beyond the Biden ad pictured above we have equal amounts of red and blue pills all mixed up together in a storefront window. Democrats (Biden/blue) and Republicans (Trump/red)? Our US of A country split up to the detriment of both, I further speculate. Leading us to this here dystopian future, a game. So far.

Lincoln might know. He was shiny and new like a freshly coined penny in this BD, his first in the city. We will most likely return to him. No cents not to.

(to be continued)

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