Tag Archives: Rabbid/Rabbit 03^*~~~~~

October 15, 2020 · 8:18 am

y not

Investigation of Diamondfyre’s Planet X parcel coinkydinkally led me to a sim called zzz, which I assume is last in an alphabetized list of such. I sit across a small lake from a dream version of myself we’ve seen once before in this here photo-novel (22 of 20), white rabbits on her side and a bear and a red capped snowman on mine. The bear is not pissing into the lake although it may appear that way from this angle, and he will probably be pissing in it soon enough given all the beer he’s been drinking with me. I might be too if it weren’t for the female cartoon squirrel Sandy soberly staring toward us on the opposite side.

Here let’s turn the camera a bit for the next photo so you can clearly see Francis (bear) is fishing just like me, and also view the roaring waterfall marking the source of the stream that flows into the lake. Source and Lake, then, just like in that game at the temple with all the tiles, starting with The River (here).

So we sit at the beginning of TILE in effect, or the end of the beginning. We have equated this River with the Amazon, and in at least one other post, the Mighty Mississippi of our US of A. But what we are building, in toto, is obviously the Earth around The River, perhaps square shaped like the box the game Carcassonne comes in but also perhaps not. Depends on if we’re happy or unhappy maybe.

I didn’t really notice how much Sandy Chic’s head is shaped like an acorn until I photographed her remotely from behind. Good one Spongebub Squaredpants creators. And good one MAPS creators, because we have this in KY.

Squib next to Sandy Gap next to Acorn also obviously represents another Spongebub character Squibward, because the expression “damp squid” is sometimes mistakenly phrased “damp squib,” like with some in the IT profession who are smart on technology but not as sharp with words. And we already know that SS’s Spore plays an important role in photo-novel 22. In fact, there he is again at a (non-horseshoe) curve in The River representing the Amazon and/or the Mississippi (or the Nile or the Yangtze or the fill in the blank). What could he be pondering with his computer wife Karen Y.?

Of course. Plan Z!

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October 15, 2020 · 8:17 am

male

“Where’s the rabbit?”

“He’ll be up shortly,” Toothpick answers Supper Man. Both are getting married in 1-3 weeks. They have to decide what is first and who is marrying who. The latter should be easy.

“Dinner Girl wanted us to meet again, have tea. She thinks we can help each other. She doesn’t want a double marriage. She thinks we should go first. I say we should go second, see how it goes for you guys.”

“And Dinner Girl isn’t (also) your sister?” asked Toothpick, following up from earlier speculation.

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Listen, we’re not the same person.” He leans forward, but dares not touch any part of Toothpick’s body for fear of passing through. Invisible. Nonexistence, even. He’s worked too hard on his abs to fritter all this away. And now that his favorite restaurant has closed up shop it should be even easier to keep the lbs away.

Toothpick/Filbert looks left as a distraction. “The rabbit over there is indicating our old friend Certain Death, Supper Man. No running away from all that. But then there’s the 561 steps now leading from End back to Beginning and the 561 again. Through 24687531 we can be saved.”

“Bahh.” Supper Man even spits toward Toothpick a bit here while exclaiming his exasperation over the supposedly sacred (heart) number. The spittle indeed passes through Toothpick’s skin, muscle and bone, some reaching the back of the chair behind him.

“Why do you disbelieve the power of the even in a row and then the odd in a backwards row?” Toothpick then considered the 9th is involved. He’d seen it once or twice before. The counter to the Zero, perhaps the Zero Hero. “We are getting married in the Temple of TILE after all with the sacred book now open at the front for everyone to see. We have the story of the CITY. The CITY is TILE.”

Supper Man scratched his head. “You and *me* are getting married in the Temple of TILE?”

Back to square one.

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October 11, 2020 · 9:04 am

X-girl

It was the first meeting of their TILE discussion group, yet without a name. Mr. Z, with continentally constituted backpack per usual, then his prettier brother also named Mr. Z. Let’s call him Zimmy. And then, thirdly but not lastly, as people like to say, a scowling cousin called — let’s go with Olive Oylslick, not to be confused with Owley Oilstick over in Constitution who works a bread stand. No relation atall between them except a common 5th grade kindergarten teacher named Ed. Or was it Ralph. Anyway, to the meeting…

The lights had to be dimmed because TILE was not an officially recognized religion or philosophy or even game in this particular part of The City. One of the reasons the discussion group was formed was to help change all that, bring TILE out in the open.

“Minute taker anyone?” Mr. Z offered to start the proceedings. Owly, I mean, Olive raised her hand. She knew she had the only handwriting anyone could decipher amongst their group. Her favorite push pencil magically appeared in it. She had that power; another advantage. A writing pad popped into existence in the other one. She glared in the direction of the Z’s, waiting for them to open their big fat mouths again and produce things to write about. She was patient, but not of a mental kind. Not any more. She manifested two pills in her mouth and swallowed, one red and one blue. That way her size stayed the same.

With this, Phyllis also manifested on the far end of the room beside the purple stripes of the TILE flag they had collaged together just last night: the last member, the one Olive forgot she even invited to the group. Met her at a chilly Denver airport on a snowy April day in July. Chile Colorado. And she had Ralph or Ed for a 5th grade kindergarten teacher too. Anyhoot, she’s here — and I suppose this is the real Owley. So Phyllis, not Owley, complete with bread and a little milk to wash it down with to show she cares.

“Some of these colors will have to be removed,” she declares while looking sideways, making Olive begin to scribble.

—–

40 minutes later, she had the minutes to the meeting. Trouble is, her cousins, the Z’s, hadn’t even said a thing while watching her slash away at the notepad with the push pencil, clicking it every couple of minutes to produce new graphite as the old wore away. She just dictated what Phyllis was telling her. No one else saw or heard Phyllis. No one else knew she existed. It was all in the pills. But they *had* their manifesto. Olive looked up, realized what was going on. She’d been in a trance for quite a while. She looked at her cousins, Zimmy and the other one who only goes by Mister. “You can go home now,” she gruffly declares. “I’ll email you the typed results tonight.”

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September 28, 2020 · 7:14 am

partners 02

Why did he switch chairs? he thinks, staring over at the weapon wielding Dinner Girl. It made his stomach turn just thinking about it! But he wasn’t in the direct line of fire. Not quite. He knew who was. History was repeating itself. But first to the other.

“Blue Berry Girl,” Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer addressed, turning to his left and prying his eyes away from the huge barrel of a gun pointed kind of right at him. 1/2 and 1/2 (oh boy). “We were expecting someone else.”

“I know. She couldn’t make it. Stomach ache, let’s say. No: let’s go with flu.”

“Has she been tested?” Dr. Baumbeer was all about testing. Because it could be one thing but it could also be another. You couldn’t know without the test. Baumbeer sneezed here, but not in his arm. In the air. The girls stared at him. Had he inadvertently infected everyone in the room? His stomach was hurting after all, although he chalked that up to the nerves of the present situation, with the gun and all. But maybe it was the other thing. He better get to the point and have a test himself. He has to see this through first.

“Dinner Girl.”

“Um hmmmmm,” she answered haughtily. She lowers the gun a bit. She’s lightening up and becoming less tense. Baumbeer’s shoulders sag, a relaxing exercise he’d learned long ago back in mummy embalming school in Egypt. He trained with the best. It was an Illuminati run campus after all, pyramids all around. And here he is. Still in the middle. A good place to be post-mortem.

“Tell me 5 things you love about Supper.”

When she answered food items instead, Baumbeer knew he was in trouble. The gun was raised again. She wasn’t taking this seriously. Because she was here to kill someone and that alone and he wasn’t here in the moment. Someone had come to life too soon with his Neptune style blonde hair and all and was foiling everything they had tried to accomplished in Our Second Lyfe. Which was to suppress the dead; keep them in their grave. No red meat for any of ’em.

(to be continued?)

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September 28, 2020 · 6:04 am

partners

The next night, Toothpick remained in the Red Rose, whatever the Red Rose turned out to be. In the moment it was a counseling center. “Alright I’ll bite. Who *are* you guys?”

“You know who we are. *Aqua-boy*. You with your Neptune hair, albeit a try out. You’re Neptune. You sit in the green chair representing the Neptune sim I mean by that. I never sit in that chair any more. Not since…” The reborn, half rabbit/half bat Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, a psychiatrist originally specializing in bodily fluids back in the days, trailed off here, unable to complete his sentence. Toothpick helped him out.

“Alcatraz? Gettysburg?” He was trying too hard. Settle down, Toothpick. Your nerves are shot. You’re getting married to your sister Sunday after tomorrow’s next Tuesday! It was wrong and both knew it, even though it was right by their culture, their upbringing. She should be sitting here opposite him, he realized. That’s Elberta’s chair over there, the red one. But she’s blonde like me. I saw her change. Toothpick again thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his wonky, mismatched eyes upon. Darn that she’s my sister! Just my luck. “I have bad luck,” he says to the others after the settle down.

“We all have bad luck,” chips in Supper Man to his other side, still holding his stomach from eating all that food. If he could cut back on the red meat at least… Toothpick realizes something else in his psychic, post-mortem ways. *He* has a better half that should be sitting opposite *him* in this meeting. Toothpick asks him about her without giving away too much.

“Dinner,” he names. “Dinner Girl. Soon to be…” He faded here, unable to complete his sentence. His stomach hurt too much from the perpetual supper he’s always downing bite after bite. He’s getting pudgy… finally. Soon he’ll be a round ball of blubber if the Corona pirates keep storing all that food in his pantry much longer.

“She’s your sister,” tries Toothpick. Wrong again.

Dr. Baumbeer senses it is time for the meeting to start in earnest. Time to bring in the girls.

(to be continued?)

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September 22, 2020 · 6:24 am

more station

“She was my great great grandmother and she liberated this city,” continued Dinner Girl after Lt. Tanner indicated to her the likely next target. Dr. Baumbeer also got his answer from same. “Along with the pig, of course.”

Ahh, the pig, pondered the wise bat-rabbit, looking over from the armed, winged statue at it instead. Another thing in the center, albeit in a corner of this roped off area, almost an afterthought to most. But not Dinner. Supper taught her that. Supper was her part time brother, part time lover. Depending if she’s on the clock or not. “So we’re on for 4 o’clock tomorrow (more resonance)?” Baumbeer was hugely looking forward to analyzing the destructive girl’s brain. Maybe he’ll read up on some Adler, Fraud, and Young tonight in preparation, take some notes on the mother archetype. Or great great grandmother archetype in this case, perhaps. He wonders if there is such a thing.

“Can you believe gun totting was illegal before her time, mm mm mm?” Dinner Girl says while recocking. She freed all us women. We got rid of the men who weren’t needed. We made alliances with like-minded in the Amazon basin and elsewhere. *No* one… tells us what to do now.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Baumbeer wasn’t paid top dollar to disagree with a wedged in hatred. You’ll need a crowbar from Mars to do that.

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September 22, 2020 · 5:33 am

power flower

Officer Ken and Officer Barney behind her talk like the fire that destroyed the Amazon fueled Flower Shop over in Black Ice was a tragedy. Instead, Lt. Jodie Tanner thought: cleansing. People — citizens — have to learn to pay their tithe, earn their right to be in this here NWES City. The City — only one now. Might as well be the walled city of Carcasonnne, hu hu, she laughed inwardly, additionally musing that a wall might be good; keep out the riffraff. The canal blocking Apple’s Orchard — the “Least East”– from Neptune here just isn’t hacking it. The man who had that plan wasn’t thinking things through. Superdude? She can never remember his name, but just recalls he could eat his suppers like there was no tomorrow. She’ll check the 4 sim database as soon as she can.

Synchromystically-like, Dinner Girl shows up just then at the station, wondering what she can blow up next. Of course, gun carrying was legal throughout The City, even the most massive of weapons. Reborn Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer III, now a bat-bunny as a result, drove up in his batty-mobile, intending to ask if the Black Ice fire was a joke or a riddle.

Lt. Tanner took it all in stride; happy about the hubbub, even. Neptune, hmm. Always things going on here. The center for sure.

(to be continued?)

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August 30, 2020 · 9:32 am

N-W-E-S

I knew Rock Ramby lived or at least *sat* in the cabin at the center of this circle of railroad in a forest grove of huge trees of his design. Or so he claimed. I knew that Gill Alex lived here as well, his Vain and Artery Boy that Santa-like Sven, who runs a packing industry over in nearby Misty Mountains, delivers a fresh supply of every now and then, always a happy moment for Rock. He likes his boy mate to be rock hard and real seeming, veins and arteries popping out in the right locations and correct hemispheres.

Then I knew that Blue Berry Girl, also from the Misty Mountains and maybe even the same as Sven in some mysterious way, came to Rock’s place, and, Wonka-like, shed her spherical blueberry encasement while crossing the RR track to enter the cabin. The dog at the house seemed to know her after the blue sphere disappeared, but earlier we understood this was Rock’s canine. So who lives here, Rock or Blue Berry Girl? And why did Rock’s fair haired mate and Blue Berry Girl later conjoin at NWES City at that ill-fated meeting hosted by Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, ending with his death at the hands of, um, I believe her name was — yes — Lu Ellen Hutchinson? Or Hutchison. Why did Baumbeer take the green seat of the 4 after yellow topped Vain and Artery Boy, later Gill Alex, took the yellow seat, Blue Berry Girl, sans exterior sphere by this time, took the blue seat opposite him, and red hatted Lu Ellen sat down in the red one opposite Baumbeer’s, gunns ready to be pulled at the right or correct moment? Ka-POW!! POW POW!! *POP* POW!! Meeting adjourned.

My current theory about all this is that Gill Alex, Vain and Artery Boy if you will, is the same as Blue Berry Girl — they are part of one entity. Likewise for fellow opposites Lu Ellen and Dr. Baumbeer sitting around this same, four-square circle. And then the two pairs also correspond in a higher manner. This is one entity masquerading — if you will — as 4 separate entities. Each of the 4 represent an aspect of the 1. A great 4n1 or 4orrin1 or Foreign One. If you will.

But who is in the center, then? The actual person behind the people? Or meeples? Is it TILE? Is it the River or Riiii-ver? 12 square tiles linked from source to mouth, a complete stream to start the game like beginning Crosby progresses to ending Young through middlings Stills and Nash? TILE update with thieving or crooked red fishermen (and/or farmers) included?

Dr. Baumbeer might have been murdered because he was the only one who retained the knowledge of the 4n1 or 4orrin1 or Foreign One. He might have been the same as green toned Bullfrog, who a little earlier, had killed Lu Ellen’s father. If so, this seems like a revenge killing pure and simple but is actually more. This was the elimination or eradication or hiding of a certain type of truth, a central core. It seems meaningful that the red one did the shooting with the gunns: Lu Ellen Hutchison played by mediocre actor Alice Frame, who also stars in the current production as similarly red topped Wendy. Character-actor Sandy Beech is recruiting her hard for The Twins’ production, some kind of remake of “The Shining” or something, perhaps involving decisions made at crossroads. But the warm and fuzzy atmosphere of “Burger Wars” still represents a lure for Alice despite all the linden dollars being thrown around.

(to be continued)

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May 16, 2020 · 7:31 am

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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May 16, 2020 · 5:47 am

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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