Tag Archives: Rabbid/Rabbit 03^*~~

Big Inside 02

Per the good doctor’s recommendation — no surprise here — she stared at the tv static for what seemed like ages, trying to make sense of the appearing and disappearing shapes. After a while, she heard what was suppose to be the observing doctor snoring behind her. He must have been out for a while, she deduced from the still undrunk milk. And here I am, trying to *remember* so hard.

She turned back to the static and cleared her throat *loudly*. Dr. Baumbeer sat up with a start, mumbling. “S-so, ahem, how’s, er, it going dear? Are — are you remembering anything? Anything at all?”

“No. Thanks. Not yet. I think we should end for the night. I need to get back home to my parents.”

“Oh that’s right. You probably think you’re — WELL, how old do you think you are, Marsha?”

Marsha knew she was a star now. She’d gotten that far. But the overlapping timelines still confused. “15?” she guessed.

“Well then you better run along! Dinner is probably getting cold at your house. I trust you know the way out.”

Marsha knew there was only one entrance to this second floor room. *Oh*, she needs to ask about her uncle, and why this building is the same as the one in NWES. She does.

“Your Uncle Ally or your Uncle Axis?” returned Dr. Baumbeer, attempting a weak joke. “They didn’t get along; that’s actually where the timelines split. For all of us.”

“Axis, I think. I don’t recall an Uncle Ally.”

“Yes, that would explain it,” and he sat back and folded his hands behind his head while gazing blankly upward with his still spectacled eyes. Soon he was snoring again. Marsha “*Pink*” Krakow left him alone now.

—-

“Oh just stop it.”

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Big Inside 01

“What’s so secret?” But the girls just tittered and waved her on.

She entered…

—–

“Pardon the mess, fellow patients,” spoke the revived Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, fairly fresh from a grave and sporting a protective bat covering now. He decides to explain his resurrection first. Good idea. Let’s listen in.

—–

“They had to go back to conception and take out half the rabbit and replace it with half bat, which removed the attached rat(s). My parents had to cooperate. They’re not dead because of it but let’s just say they’ll be incapacitated for a while. Resurrection takes energy! But here I am — *voila* (he indicates his renewed body here). Waiting to get your ideas about how to manifest true center again in NWES City.”

“Storybrook,” corrected Marsha “Pink” Krakow from the door, unseen until now.

“Oh.” He turns and peers at her intently. “So you’re on *that* timeline. WELL (he glances back)… you must think me a raving *lunatic* for talking to a bunch of empty chairs! Why don’t you join me. Marsha *Star* Krakow.”

“You know my name?”

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stamp it out

Trunk in the air, the bellowing elephant threatens to take over everything, including Jeogeot, including Nautilus — all the rest. Jett (Harry’s son) is here to stop all that, or help stop. NWES rises in importance again, a balance to Collagesity perched on a high ridge between Highways 13 and 14 over on Nautilus. The interaction between the 2 must continue. “This is not a time to move the behemoth that is Collagesity,” he speaks aloud, perhaps to himself but perhaps also to the camera he knows is upon him.

Yet the trunk is raised, the leg angled upwards, ready to squash the ideas, the dreams of the  young professor. We know he lives, however. We’ve seen him — as Young Harris — in the Weird-o islands, purchasing the lot from Messed Up who’s also just reappeared in this here photo-novel (19, once m0re: the Corona-V photo-novel as it will be called).

It’s time to bring back the late great Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer of Braynard’s Place, his Central space ready for psychiatric investigation once again. “Pardon the mess,” he might say to willing patients around him. “It’ll be fixed up by next Wednesday’s Tuesday (or something).”

Jett doesn’t pretend to know all about the doctor’s mysterious therapies, most involving tv static and constantly sipping on milk or other liquids. But he’s willing to give it a try. For the future of NWES, of Collagesity.


“I *am* the static.” *sip*

But most important now: Osseo is Oesso now in the downstairs collage.

The Club 88 explosions hadn’t happened yet. We are frozen in a slither of time about the size of a small 50 x 15 foot opening in thickly shrubbed woods. A *window*, if you will, endless in the moment.

The engines across the street remain quiet.

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batty

Peter/Tronaxis checked the next morning. The Esso poster downstairs *had* changed again, this time to Oesso (from Osseo). But the Tiger remains. Him, according to Wheeler. He was both embarrassed and pleased with the title. He still regrets being Dr. Young Kane over in the Weird-o Islands instead of Dr. Young Harris. Weir did he go wrong? What path could he have chosen differently? Venus knows, but she won’t tell him. She’s always shutting her mouth when it comes up with that zipper gesture she found online. So he remains Mars — Marz. Trapped here in essence, in this Purple Marz house located in a sim dominated or defined by that weird-o color (like surrealism). Maybe Blue Berry Girl would know, having successfully removed violet from her own wardrobe, this so called weighty Purple Sphere that poor little Katy Kidd/Kate McCoy always talks about releasing as well in a more mental capacity. A mentor to her this Blue Berry Girl is, despite the continued nudity. Popeye-like, she declares, “I am what I am.” Bulging eyed youths obviously foam at the mouth with the gunn sight. If only Bullfrog would have had the courage to shoot her with his own, different gun when he had the chance back in novel 14, he thinks, taking the mindset of the current doctor. “I better get over there,” he utters while checking his oh so loudly ticking wristful of watch, also with bat wings. He stops looking at it just in time to avoid another catastrophe. Too early in the morning for BOOM.

—–

“Your — sphere is back,” spoke Axis/Peter Oesso, stating the obvious.

“Shut up.”

Then the ghost of Dr. Baumbeer showed up and things got *really* interesting. He had a lot to say.

(to be continued?)

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end 01

Parasol was so close to the man with the answers (Patriotic Soup Restaurant cook) but yet so far. The bearded lady’s answer to the location of Kuckoo’s or Palace Hotel was: “Ask the fish butcher at the flea market. He knows everything and everybody.” Another dead end, then, for, as we know, the underwater butcher knows nothing. She decided just to wander a bit more before totally giving up, and stumbles (and bumbles) upon a passageway she didn’t think she’d explored before in her many travels through the city now. She touches something and then finds herself here…

…. confronting a white rabbit on the sky object’s edge. Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, murdered in “Collagesity Photo-Novel 16.”

Parasol didn’t know this fact, but quickly gathered she was talking to a ghost. “Your plan would not have worked,” he called over in earnest after introducing himself. “The whiteyes would not implant correctly over your own eyes and you would have been found out immediately and killed. Just like myself.” He faded from view with this, but the brief encounter provided Parasol with more valuable information than she had hitherto received from anyone in Kowloon. My plot would not have work! she said, spinning the possibility, nay *actuality* around in her mind. Because she knew it was true as soon as it spilled out of the dead doctor’s mouth. White rabbits are true guides. They do not seek to mislead in and of themselves.

Parasol looked up. Another mass of black and white color directly above her head. She flew up…

… to confront *another* white rabbit at the same position on the taijitu symbol’s edge. The symbol was smaller, brighter, and with a more irregularly shaped edge (with a good number of rounded protrusions) than the otherwise duplicate one immediately below. Another 2-n-1.

This white rabbit, taller and appearing feminine in the dim light to Parasol, introduced herself as Charlie in about an octave higher register than the doctor before her. Feminine indeed, although possessing a uni-sex name. “I am the continuation of the doctor,” she spoke, and then Parasol was in a very different location again. Very low instead of very high.

She stared up. The spinning, red fabricy doctor had just finished fixing the first red eye and was about to start on the second. A beam shot up from the “unfixed” eye, destroying the aberrant being in one poof of smoke. She stood up. Was she alive or dead? She couldn’t tell as she walked down the trench toward the surface again…

(to be continued)

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blue red yellow DEAD

“So here it is all mapped out, Hucka. The murder. *The* Murder. The ‘crime scene’: here. This building. Upstairs I mean. Not downstairs — *here* here. Up there here.”

“The ‘murdered’ is Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, yes,” speaks Hucka Doobie, trying to speed things along. Much to analyze and absorb tonight.

“Then next is the ‘motive’,” continues Baker Bloch in a line. “Peepee, the person –er, creature murdered in the first place. The start of a chain reaction.”

“Cool.” Hucka Doobie moves to the next line down. “Then the ‘#1 suspected’ — the murderer of *Rabbid*, is, um, Lu Ellen? Did I get that name right?”

“Lu Ellen Hutchinson, yes. Or maybe Hutchison without the (first) ‘n’. I’ll have to check.”

“But Lu Ellen (for the first name),” Hucka Doobie attempts to firmly establish.

“Yes.”

“Moving on, then, is ‘clue # 1’, which is provided by synchronicity investigator Alice L. Farrowheart. We also know now that this person sometimes goes by Lilly.”

“No, I never said that,” defends Baker Bloch. You must be confused, yes, with Alice Frame. Another Alice F. — perhaps interesting.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you with that,” offers up Hucka Doobie. “But this is from the Red Umbrella, specifically a Sam Parr collage from the Red Umbrella. Specifically specifically Sam Parr 04. This is a marriage. Who is getting married? Well…”

“Wheeler. Wheeler is getting married.” Baker Bloch is referring to information shared with Hucka Doobie earlier as they drank coffee at Spunky’s in Southside. Surprising news!

“The married woman — Wheeler or not — is then throwing a frog toward a green man who is removing his own head in ‘clue # 2’. This is the next collage in Sam Parr — Sam Parr 05, part 1 of a diptych.”

“Part 1 of 2, yes,” elaborates Baker Bloch (unnecessarily).

“So in summary — for now — the just married gal throws a frog at a man and turns him green and removes his head. This is her father Peepee, murdered by Bullfrog. But it is *also*…”

“Bullfrog,” completes Baker Bloch. I don’t think it can get any clearer than that.

“Nope. I agree. The rabbit is obviously the frog.”

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Rats!

They all looked away from Rabbit 01 after he’d finished his statement, toward the evil city that had taken another child. A child psychiatrist in this case. *Functional* wee one; even worse.

“Now we’re having trouble in the Far East, even,” says Chief Nipsie Tanner, half to herself. “Better think about opening another police department over there in the boondocks.”

“Yes, Ms. Tanner,” everyone around dutifully recites, making her even more irritated. She must get away from the herd sometime soon again. Escape to the hills. Escape this — costume.

“A sewer,” speaks Tanner again, picturing it in her mind. So close to heaven yet so far.

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Gunn(s) 04

“Now I’m going to turn around,” Dr. Baumbeer declared, “and let’s see if you’ve chosen the correct chairs.”

He turns around. “Very good, all. Honestly, I thought that Gill here may be confused about the red and blue chairs, since he is both red and blue. But his *hair* is yellow, and he has correctly deduced, or you gals have helped him deduce, that that is his defining color, since it covers *both* hemispheres. And Blue Berry Girl, that naturally leaves you with the blue chair, and, likewise, you (he points to the east chair), Lu Ellen, with the red. Thank you all.”

“You’re welcome,” all mutter to one degree or another. Enthusiasm wasn’t their strongest suit tonight. Each had another motivation for being here.

“So now I’ll assume my own chair, which is the west one, the green one.” He sits down in the appropriate chair. The meeting to find True Center can come to order now.

“Now Gill, let’s start with you. How did you come to Black Dragon and what is your motivation for being here?” But Gill Alex continues to lock stares with Blue Berry Girl across the way and doesn’t answer.

“Okay, moving on then, I suppose, let’s see what you, Lu Ellen, has to say about that topic.

“I’m here to kill someone,” she spoke plainly, laying all the cards down on the table. As one, both Gill Alex and Blue Berry Girl rotate and stare at her the doctor instead.

“W-who would that be, dearest?” continued Baumbeer, starting to sweat due to all the staring.

“*You*.” Ka-POW!! POW POW!! *POP* POW!!

Meeting adjourned.

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cheap at 1/2 the price

“Very funny, Baker Bloch,” responded Hucka Doobie after teleporting in.

“Thought you might like it.”

“What is this?” Hucka Doobie peered inside. “A psychiatrist’s office?”

—–

“So let’s get down to brass tacks. Tell me about this compulsion to not wear clothes any more.”

“Well,” began Blue Berry Girl in earnest. “It started with the death of little demon Melvin at my hands. He was the one who was suppose to supply me with clothes (but didn’t follow orders).”

“Hmm. Any way to bring him back to life?” queried Dr. Baumbeer, sipping on milk as usual. “I mean…”

“… since *I* was brought back to life?”

She stared at him with wide, mysterious eyes. “Well, ahem, let’s, er, dive into all that, then. Do you retain any memories of Cloe from that game your user was playing?”

“Not — sure.”

“Tell you what. Meditate on that aspect of this problem using the tv static we discussed before while I study my notes. Let’s get back together in, say (he checks his watch), 15 minutes?”

—–

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Dead Sea

“It’s going to be *beautiful* Cloe, a beautiful scene.

Let’s go take a look again.”

—–

“Dead Lakes and The Basin in one. Fate, my blue haired friend. Beginning of a stream.”

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