Tag Archives: Princess Pinky Gumm^^+++++$

00450303

Even though it’s primitive in many ways compared to newer games like Cyberpunk 2077, Red Dead Redemption 02, and even the older Grand Theft Auto V from 2013, there’s still great beauty to be found in Our Second Lyfe.

I was not suppose to come here as the other one. I was suppose to come here as someone new, someone they didn’t recognize and perhaps could learn from. I was always positioned between the 2, I felt.

But Lexi kept thinking about Shelley — that’s why she was here. She was sent away to find the One.

She didn’t see the candy sentry until it was too late. “What do you want?” he rather boomed down at her. “We’ve had trouble around here recently. Creature named Lich. I’m lucky to still be standing.” Silence. Lexi was contemplating what to say to this being, obviously a transplant from an entirely different dimension, she sensed. “Had – TROUBLE,” he emphasized, still glowering down. She had to say something, so:

“Shelley Johnston Struthers. Or Johnson,” she cited the variable name for the middle. “Looking for her. Heard she passed through here.”

“*This* is the castle of the High Princess Pinky Gumm I’ll have you know. You will *not* come around here looking for another.”

“Hmm.” This guy was fronting a rather ordinary looking house as far as she could tell and not a castle. He’s mad as in crazy mad too? “Okay okay,” she relented. “I’ll bite. I’m actually here to see the Princess. Princess Gummy Pink.”

“Princess *Pinky Gumm*,” the candy sentry proudly corrected.

“Yeah, that one. She in?”

“Of course she’s in. She’s *ill*. She cannot leave her bed.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” Lexi started worrying about communicable diseases more than finding Shelley, at least for the moment. But is this princess actually Shelley? Shelley’s royalty in her book but that’s just the hormones talking. And she’s kind of pink as well. “Catching?”

“Catching *what*?” he issued from above.

“Is whatever she has catching?” she rephrased, still staring up at his gummy ball machine head and wondering how all that worked for brains and all.

“Of course not. She’s *possessed*. By that Lich I mentioned before. You can’t catch possessed.”

“Soo… there’s something inside her? This Lich?”

“That is correct.  Now — go along or I’ll have to alert the banana guards of your presence. They are positioned at the, ahem, basement doors just here… there… there… and there.” While speaking and whirling around in place, he points at what appears to be each side of the house behind him. He’d changed his mind about a visit. This person below him, this *cyberpunk* it appeared from the implants in her head, was simply too snoopy, too suspicious seeming. He decided to reveal that he was not alone in guarding the grounds; strength in numbers.

Lexi sees no signs of guards, knows that regular basements only have one door in and out. At least where she grew up in Horner’s Corners Kansas like the Mary Anne she is. Before it was flooded by the lake. That hellish, damned lake. More fantasy from this toy dude, she judged. Maybe the princess is made up too. She decides to question further.

“So the princess is actually not seeing people right now?”

“Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe yesterday but that is too late for you. Check back in a month. No: make it 5. 5 years, 10 years to be totally safe.”  He knew that, in all likelihood, Our Second Lyfe would not even be around after 10. Safe indeed.

“Couple more things and then I’ll go on my way. I’m sorry: the person I’m actually looking for must not be here,” she admitted. She wasn’t dead sure of this but she decided to say it anyway.

“She is *not*,” the candy sentry emphasized. “Only the High Princess Pinky Gumm from Candyland. We’re all from Candyland here. *You’re* not. You don’t belong here. *One* more question and be gone.”

“Alright.” Lexi knew this had to be a winner. “This Lich. Anything to do with Fern?”

(to be continued)

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00450301

Trading her jumping jacks in for jack squats, Fern sensed (and felt and heard) a great disturbance in the force.

“Lichen!” she screamed, intuitively knowing what had caused the castle to suddenly shake as in a quake, her exercising over but her exorcising just begun.

But first there was a problem of revealing herself in a proper way to Fink, who was now grieving over the resulting possession of his beloved Princess Pinky Gumm after the attack, the invading spirit having found the correct body to inhabit. Right now, Fern was just a figment of his imagination stuck in the basement or dungeon, guarded by banana soldiers to the front back side and side. Princess hadn’t said anything; she wasn’t sure it was real herself yet; didn’t want to alarm others until she knew for sure. This story must remain PG’s and not reveal any unrestricted, naked truths. And now she’s paid the price. Lichen needed to contact Fern from the Great Beyond and she’s doing anything in her powers to make this so! Even if it means displacing the soul of another. With Fink (and Jack) in the middle.

“Princess,” calls Fink at the bedside. “Come back to us, PG.” He looked down again at her blue-not-pink face, those slime green pupils set in pitch black corneas, the clammy skin. And she didn’t smell the same either. Not all candy-like but — dare he even think it? — sort of like death. Or at least rotted trees.

“Must talk — to — *Ferrrrnn,*” the spirit hissed within the body.

“Fern?” says puzzled Fink, figuratively if not literally scratching his head at the princess’ utterance, a recurring gesture. “Who’s Fern?”

“Well… I’m guessing it may be you or an alternate version of you since Fink is close to Fern,” Jack chips in from the other side of the bed. “That’s what my dog instincts tell me. I don’t know, hmph. Prob’ly should just stick to licking my butt and other more regular dog stuff. Call it a wild hunch, then.” And he proceeds to get on the floor and lick his behind while he’s thinking about it.

“*Jack*,” reprimanded Fink at the action. “What did we talk about, huh? Not in front of the princess! Especially not *now*.” He looked down and got even more depressed and desperate.

No more words in the script for poor, possessed Pinky Gumm. Now was Fern’s chance.

“Fink,” tried Fern again in a vision over the large, sprawled out body of Susan. “It’s me. Your other half. Remember. Re-mem-ber.”

(to be continued)

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00450214

Princess Pinky Gumm had turned her grilling attention now to Fink. “So when did you first meet Fern?” she asked, knowing this was the current crux of the problem. They were still in the basement of her, ahem, castle. She didn’t like to call it a dungeon, although she knew these 2 couldn’t leave until she got some satisfactory answers, banana guards posted at the back front side and side doors. She understood about the 5 and 5 times to make 10 — that added up. She needed to know about the other, the double.

“It was across the sprawling body of Susan,” he explained. “I just looked over the top and there he was. Like me! Except, er, he was a square, and I was a circle.”

“Faces,” clarified Jack for deeply pondering Fink.

“Yeah. And green of course. He came from the grassy sword I found early. That sword combined with my ordinary one to make…” He stopped. He couldn’t continue any longer. The transference had not been complete.

(to be continued)

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00450213

Unexpectant, tree-house topping Fern was apparently consumed by the pink, the candy, massing up from below.

Flying mastermind Constance looks down at all the chaos, topped herself by a beanie of the 4 sacred colors looking very much like our Badlands and Tibetian umbrellas from earlier posts of this here photo-novel. Has she harnessed their vast combined powers for evil instead of good? Mighty good guess.

Similarly green, jumpjacking Fern in the basement of our new Nautilus “castle” digs emphasizes that she’s not *this* Fern and that she’s fine, then starts to have second thoughts as 9 turns into 10 as the exercising continues. Think about what could happen when she gets to 45!

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00450212

“I came into the small town on the Jeogeot continent as a plane, soon to be a dog again. I could pick up on my driver’s thoughts since we were, you know, kind of one and all flying in. Her name was Rose. Or Emily. Both at once somehow.” His brain hurt again. Princess Pinky Gumm and Fink and he had been at it for one hour. The grilling, the grilling! The ol’ dog can’t take much more, I sense.

“You said 5 years, Jack. You said you’d been with her for 5 years. That accounts for *1/2* of what we need. We’ll get to you, Fink, soon.” Here she points to the teenage human sitting beside the orange, human child sized dog in her castle in the center of everything.

“Yeah, she bought me on a lark then. Or so her thoughts told me. I personally don’t remember it, huh. Soon as I entered the town.”

“She jumped out the plane when landing.”

“Yeah, *I* landed that plane safely. Not her.”

“Right, okay, but you separated from her. What happened next?”

“Well, Fink walks up. Just out of the blue. Didn’t you Fink? What had it been? 5 years?”

Aha! thinks the princess, hearing that amount of time again. “I guess,” answers the teenage human about the same, trying to remember. Hard. Wasn’t quite working yet. Good Jack went first, he thinks. He scratches his head again.

“Yeah, Fink was with me, by my side just like old times. Then we spotted the Candy Shoppe on the edge of town. Figured you might be within. Since it was, I don’t know, candy or filled with candy and you’re the ruler of candy and all. I guess.”

“Sooo, where does the castle fit in?”

“*Your* castle?” speaks up Fink, looking straight at her.

*My* castle? thinks the princess, staring straight back. Jack’s time to scratch again.

(to be continued)

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00450211 (middle)

“I’m going to have to land here and refuel at this halfway point buddy, in that I’m going to have to eat something! Sugar’s great but the energy runs out quick! Hey?!” he says, not hearing anything from the rear. “You all right back there?! Still with me I hope,” he said more under his breath, remembering the loop-de-loop they had to do to get away from the Vortex Monsters at Mt. Granny on the eastern side of the continent, this Nautilus that also was part of a hypercube of some dimension, some dimension indeed. But the hypercube shape was also the way Princess Pinky Gumm knew where they were all along. Just travel in any direction to 1/2way where you want to be and there you are.

“Yeah. I’m still here.” Fink was a little dizzy but otherwise fine from the adventure so far. “Warm and cozy curled up inside your big doggy belly, ho ho.”

“Yeah, but it’s time to let you go. HUUU WAAAAA!”

“Another really gross moment, Jack! YUCK,” says Fink, now expelled behind the plane and watching Jack shrink back to his regular size and shape before him. He shakes himself dry of the intestinal juice — he *hopes* it’s just intestinal juice — and stands up.

Perfect timing, because just then Princess Pinky Gumm arrives in her gummmobile — er, gummobile. Pink in color obviously, like herself. “Fink, Jack! So it’s *you*.”

“Yeah,” says Jack nonchalantly. “I guess we’ve returned or something.”

“*10* years, fellows. 10… YEARS. Where on God’s pink Earth have you been?”

“Umm,” says Fink, scratching his head.

“Err,” says Jack, scratching somewhere else.

(to be continued)

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00450210 (end)

“Warning warning. Destructive couple on the way from the west south north east central.”

Gotta get that internal compass fixed sometime, thinks Princess Pinky Gumm. But she knew it really didn’t matter. Here. “Okay, great candy sentry!” she shouts up. ” You continue to keep watch on the, er, *castle* while I try to meet them 1/2way!”

“No meeting those hell bent on destruction 1/2way,” booms down the sentry. “I sense… the death of candy. Split in two.” And here candy sentry splits himself in two for a brief moment to illustrate his point.

Princess Pinky didn’t explain that by 1/2 way she meant space not negotiating tactics. Candy sentry was rather simple that way. Fixed on things in a rather one dimensional manner. But the death of candy? What was going on here?

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00450209 (beginning)

“Welp. We’re here Jack. But I don’t see any signs of Princess Pinky Gumm.”

“Me neither,” answers the talking, upright dog, famous in almost all circles of children and most adult ones now along with his travelling partner. “But I suuure could use some of that candy inside there, he he.” And he proceeds to stretch out from his standing position to lick the big lollipop on the shop’s top, then complains that it needs more sugar. *Lots* more sugar.

“Ho ho,” laughs Fink his teenage human companion, supposedly the last of his kind. But we know better. “Get this, Jack. It’s a lollipop on top of a shop. So a lollishop, hu hu.”

“Or a lolli shop pop top where I hop to satisfy my chop.”

“Eh,” judges Fink. “I like mine better.”

“Me too,” Jack quickly agrees and then stretches out even more and swallows the whole shop in one huge gulp. “Yup, there’s candy inside! And, stand back, here comes the rest!”

—–

“Hey! Thanks a lot buddy!”

“Oh. Sorry, jeez,” says the now returned to normal sized Jack. “Forgot the powers of the BLEEEHH when I’m big, ha ha.”

“He he,” goes Fink, who’s quite all right despite being apparently crushed.

“But I saved the best for last.” And Jack produced the remaining half of the shop’s candy from beneath his tongue and extended it toward his human bro.

(to be continued)

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Bakers… and Wheeler

I think we have a new candidate for an alchemical experiment going wrong that you originally assigned to Bart Smipson here in photo-novel 09.” They were in the past. Which was also the present.

“Lemongrab, yes. I’ve heard,” the female Baker replies to the male Baker. She reads the blog even if she hadn’t appeared in it for a while. “Sink into Sunklands”. It’s taped to her bathroom mirror so she’ll remember at night. Just before bed. She understands they, the Baker family of avatars and friends, are struggling to establish Lemon Free State in the middle of Nautilus. Thus Lemongrab, who here goes by Mike. And Lemongrab 2 is his now female (?) mate Pat. Both found quickly on the Our Second Lyfe marketplace through a search for complete avatars using keyword “Duke.”

“Does that make you Princess Bubblegum?” He pivots his head, takes her overarching pinkness in. “You always wanted to be a mother, Baker Blinker. You always wanted… *boys*.”

“Not *those* kind of boys,” she shot back.

“Oh sure you do. You were jealous of Wheeler from the beginning.” He knew to let the matter drop after that. They’d been through the transference a 1000 times now, reviewed every aspect. In the early days of such analysis Baker Blinker was trying to assert herself as the queen ruler again, with Baker Bloch by her ever-side as Prime Minister. Like in the UK as opposed to the US, which had just gone to hell. Wheeler, early on again, was kind of like 2016 Trump happening at the same time, the new ruler, the wannabe *dictator* — obvious to them if not a big chunk of the country still surrounding their safe patch of virtual irreality up in the main world. Where Mike and Pat originally come from in Missouri, North Carolina and Tennessee respectively. This was all fate.

And she’s still married to original “king” Karoz Blogger — that hadn’t changed, despite all the other stuff that has occurred since they tied the knot in photo-novel 02 and originally started dating in 01. It seems to be one constant of the blog and attached photo-novels. Perhaps the ultimate one. The ability of two to manifest at once and live and interact together as husband and wife. Then: Wheeler.

—–

She ditched the remainder of the crazy blue outfit, made the scars in her face deeper and more off-putting to fit into this world better.

“Last Drop, good,” she said, staring at the the sign of the place on the edge of the Fissure, which some call the Fracture just to be ornery about established protocol. “I have a place to eavesdrop on new gossip.” In particular, she was looking for Jed, who now seems to go by John (the Mind Reader) or perhaps Incognito, obvious enough nod to a disguise, a covering up of an origin rooted in one of those complicated North-South type disputes. And *Stitches.* “Ted,” she mouths his own new name aloud while thinking about all this.

“Yes?”

She twirls in her tracks.

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