Tag Archives: Roger Pine Ridge/Biker Mann^*+++@

meeting 02

After the meeting, Bill realized she had only a limited time left to save the Heterocera continent as a whole, perhaps Our Second Lyfe itself. She paused to take a look at the moth temple through vintage binoculars on the pier outside the Mermaid Lounge just exited.

How to paint this thing and capture the true essence? she ponders again. 3-n-1. Mabel, Annie, herself. All painters trying to capture essences. All linked together, of course, in their failure to accomplish the deed so far. She thinks this, deep down, through her core avatar. Wheeler.

Unnoticed so far, a somewhat drunk Roger Pine Ridge observes Bill from the side of the lounge. Cyberpaperdoll has abandoned me here in this *swamp*, he reflects bitterly. I must talk to *someone* about it.

He debates whether to approach her. Decisions have always been hard for him.

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bogged down

Gilmore the Axe Man drug me off dry land and down to this wet, swampy place,” spoke former Collagesity resident Roger Pine Ridge, freshly dried off from a not-so-refreshing dip. “But mixed up girl-boy Lee Mann will lead us to heaven and the moon. We will take to the air to escape.”

Per usual as of late, Cyberpaperdoll was only half listening to her boyfriend, this time engaged in a lusty staredown with Bandit Boy floating on a nearby inner tube. Roger Pine Ridge had grown boring to her. She needed a sense of danger in her life. Moths and the moon, moon and the moths. That’s all she kept hearing about lately. She continued to plot a change… a ditching. But when was the right time? Maybe this weekend at the St. Patrick’s Day party over at Fishy’s. She simply wouldn’t show up. Leave this watery place, but not with wings. In that cute little pink sports car of Bandit’s. The one with the horn that neighs like a heated pony. Bandit Boy then pulls a banana from his pocket and peels it slowly while continuing to stare. Mmmmmm, she thinks.

Don’t go there, visiting Catvas II thinks on her own.

The Catctii behind her remain neutral on the subject, though.

They’d seen more in their days.

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another angle

Roger Pine Ridge kept looking at the flickering white glow beneath the water that he knew was Anton. Shoes stolen; mission accomplished. Like finding the ruby slippers of Oz, he thought. Anorexia’s gonna be pissed off as hell.

He looked over at the green robed woman beside him, face harshly illuminated by the glare of the flashlight she held. Scars. “I’m just waiting for the significant other to finish up inside,” he explained from his *self named* chair.. “How about you?”

—–

Cyberpaperdoll walks out of Fae’s Boat House with 50,000 lindens in hand.

“Come on, Biker,” she said just above a whisper toward the closest Pine Ridge chair. “Time to go.”

“Don’t forgot to sign the guestbook out there!” Jim the Pirate Bartender called from within, a request they most definitely ignored while leaving.

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the evolution of the ring

“I’m just waiting for the significant other to finish up inside,” spoke Roger Pine Ridge from his *self named* chair. “How about you?”

But metallic green robed Junbug said nothing and kept reading her book of spooky stories. There were codes inside.

—–

“I’m glad the Floyd Man is gone, Owlshead, because my book is now not full of glitches.”

“Do you have *any* clothes around here that’ll fit me?” the small green being now seated opposite her replied, “because I’m f-ing cold as old mold, *shiver*.”

“Okay,” Junbug relented. “Hop on back up and let’s go see how Anton is holding out. This was just a test anyway.”

—–

“I’m thinking of changing my name again to Kelp, Sidechick… Anton. Whaddaya guys think?”

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resting place 02

Hucka Doobie also stops by to pay her last respects to long time Collagesity barman Furry Karl. She even sheds a number of tears. But he looks more filled out now than I remember him, contemplates the bee person. Still hairy but not so much. She then remembers Baker Blinker turning into something similar about a year ago, when all the oldest town avatars got together just after the Billfork Table Meeting at the Blue Feather. In fact, this is the same person… figure! She also remembers Baker Bloch transforming into Old Mabel at the same get together. She listened open mouthed at subsequent proclamations. Baker Bloch is *many* avatars in one. Baker Blinker is a couple. Hucka Doobie is merely “herself,” as she’s presently constituted, and then also herself in obsolete, “classic” form, which is more pure bee slanted and which she only pulls out during special occasions, like Halloween year before last, pheh. The party where she almost got killed by Wheeler. Hucka Doobie *thinks* she’s forgiven the former town leader, but still remains unsure. Anyway, I’m wandering, she says to herself. Karl… must ask The Bakers about this.

“Baker Blinker,” Hucka Doobie calls softly. But Karl definitely seemed dead as a doorknob (curious expression).

Hucka Doobie then turns to leave, but notices the teleporter on the floor in front of Pirate Bluebird’s coffin — complete with a blue rose someone left on the lid. She wonders what’s on the second floor now of what was once called Home Orange, so heads upwards.

Open toilets on one side. “Okay,” she says. “Kinda disgust-ing.”

And then this on the opposite wall: “The tide is turning…” A sign of things to come.

She then sits just outside on the front porch of Starbuccaneers, staring over at the Boos gallery across the way and pondering what it all means.

She sits there for the longest time.

“What are you looking at, little man?” the approaching Tammy Whatammy exclaimed, on her way up Cannon Road to pick up some things left behind at her old log cabin rental.

“Man??”

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Zappa groupie?

“I *know* this person, Biker Mann,” Cyberpaperdoll stated while zooming into a snapshot from the last Sunklands post. “This Anorexia or Annie. It’s Baker’s friend! From the old synching board. Raynbowladirubislyppers.”

“Interesting,” he replied nonchalantly while continuing to stare out the window toward Home Orange and the comings and goings of Jacob I. and Broken Heart. But Biker isn’t my name any longer, Roger Pine Ridge thought to himself. You don’t know who *I* am.

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us

“Lost your girl, eh?” Like any good bartender, Furry Karl was trying to empathize with a treasured customer.

“Yeah,” said Roger Pine Ridge. “Literally.” Roger wished he had a joint to smoke instead of a Marlboro. He stated this desire to Karl.

“We’re working on (the marijuana) license,” Karl encouraged. “Should know by the end of the month. Town council voted on it yesterday. One problem is the flow of grass coming into the village. Some say it should naturally be from Hana Lei. Countering this, some say Jeogeot and the Gulf region, despite the escalating war there. Depends on which way you twist the ring, see.”

“Ah… the ring. And where is our precious ring presently?” Roger Pine Ridge was itching to use it himself and investigate these supposedly grass laden lands.

Karl reaches under the counter and pulls out a magically generated log sheet only he and several others can read. “Let’s see, according to this Rocky Racco presently has the ring. That’s my boss now, apparently.” Karl pauses here to shake his head but doesn’t say anything that will put him in jeopardy. He collects himself while pretending to have something in his eye, then looks down again at the log. “And he’s, um, in Jeogeot.” Karl blows out air. “With The Kidd.”

“Tell more!”

—–

Actor Tom Casey was enjoying an outdoor bath at his Middletown house when he got the call from The Kidd. She ask him to set her tower up per usual and she would come over as quick as possible and sit in the chair. She also had a surprise for him tonight. His acting abilities were finally to be employed! Oh, and The Kidd wanted him to ring up Karoz in Chilbo.

—–

“I’m glad you ditched those ridiculous pants, Karoz.”

“What are we looking at tonight?” He wanted to get on with it so that he could return to his meal of asparagus tips and potted mincemeat with Baker Blinker in Chilbo. The call from Casey came mid bite.

“Settle down, settle down,” Billie Jean Kidd encouraged. “Get into the role again. Middletown role. You’re not in Chilbo any more.” Karoz received the message. Billie understood that his Chilbo existence was real and that this was merely a dream. But was she right? He stared at the changing picture.

“No, that’s just us,” Billie then said, also looking. “Give me a moment.” She began to browse through past posts. “You have to watch the appearance of those mirror worlds, where you stare into yourself staring into yourself staring into yourself and so on. That came up with 11111 recently. 5 is usually the limit, but enough!” She’d found the appropriate picture. She zoomed in.

“This is what Roger Pine Ridge was staring at, Karoz, in a recent post. Through it he knew he was new and that Waters was old. I have a feeling he’s going to be listening to a lotta old time radio downloads of comedians Lum and Abner during his stay in Collagesity. Better get himself a nice audio system, because those files are not the best quality. I should know. He needs to listen carefully.”

Karoz looked at Waters on the map, at New. His attention was then drawn to Ogden and also Gaston to their right. He recognized the names. He recognized the *map*.

“David Bowie as Jeffrie Phillips sits on the Twin Peaks inspired couch,” Billie Jean Kidd continued, knowing what Karoz knew. “Alive and well. He is only pausing. Whitestar.”

Karoz turned and stared at Billie Jean Kidd. “Who are you?”

“You know full well who I am, Karoz. Will we contest for the future of Collagesity once more? A *tennis* match this time instead of a wrestling match? Only you can save Collagesity at any rate. You and Baker Blinker.”

“I… we don’t plan to fully return,” replied Karoz, hands on hips.

“One more on the map and we can talk about that. We just move directly east, to the eastern side of the county. Recognize *this*? It plugs directly into the other 5×5 here as well as the Wizard’s Cube for emphasis, which is also a “W” in this spot. My spot. This is what we need to explore, Karoz. Obvious, isn’t it?”

—–

Casey the Alien wakes up inside Middletown proper.

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Switchies 02

Newly formed Roger Pine Ridge decides to sneak by snoozing Cyberpaperdoll on the lower floor and go visit friendly, understanding neighbor Tammy Whatammy in her cabin across just across Old Cannon Road to tell her the news. But Tammy was nowhere to be found within. The entire cabin had basically been cleaned out — no sign that she had ever been there.

Only one object remained: the town’s generic media player. And on it, the Sunklands post had changed once again.

—–

Greg Ogden was trying to ignore all the commotion going on behind him in order to focus on his painting. The subject matter, as always it seemed: Treasure Hill, now about 200 meters north of his chosen perch. To its right, Middletown lay just beyond his draw distance from here. He liked it that way. Treasure Hill alone and without tag-along berg, just like in olden days. Pre Gulf War days, he thinks while listening to a new round of shots from in back. Then a fierce explosion rocked the land, totally ruining an attempted first brush stroke. Greg Ogden had decided to give up for the day when Rocky Raccoo reached his perch from the ravaged camp below, smoking gun in hand.

“Axis or Allies?” he called toward the harmless artist. “Choose or be shot anyway.”

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Switchies

Twelve at night; Biker Mann couldn’t sleep for a particular reason. Perhaps also the salmon they had for dinner wasn’t quite agreeing with him. While pacing back and forth upstairs he notices the Sunklands blog post on the media player of their apartment has changed. New title: “5×5 02”.

He puffs more rapidly on his Winston cigarette. “Well,” he huffs, “no need to wake Cyberpaperdoll for this one. Get her paper airplanes in a whirl again.”

He then recognizes a name on the map. Then, north of it, another. Then another and another. It was a county cornucopia.

Biker Mann suddenly has a different form. And a different name. Roger Pine Ridge, with an avatar complexity of 11111.

“This map is old,” are the first words he mutters in Our Second Lyfe.

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coincidence

“I want to show you something,” Cyberpaperdoll said to Biker Mann while they were eating downstairs later on. Friendly neighbor Tammy Whatammy joined them in a meal of broiled salmon, banana bread, and almond salad. The leftovers were later fed to her dog Poo.

Cyberpaperdoll retrieved the magnetic board with her new arrangement of flat alphabet blocks from underneath her chair and laid it in the center of the table. “If you extend the letters beyond the 5×5 on the right side, see, like the flow indicates, you get an 8×5, just like the forest grid over there.” She nods toward the south window facing the demon filled woods. “I’ve figured out the color arrangement too, as you can tell. It’s TILE again. Baker Blinker was in the Temple of TILE today, looking for things to eliminate to make room for more apartment prims.”

“She never came out,” grunted Biker Mann, woofing down a large chuck of salmon.

“Who?” asked his girlfriend. Tammy Whatammy peered around for her chihuahua. She wanted to sneak him a special piece of salmon while the other two were engrossed in their mystery project.

“The female Baker,” Biker clarified. “She never came out of the orange door. “Jacob I. did, but she never did. I think she went to the Other Side. At least for a spell.”

“Maybe that’s related,” Cyberpaperdoll opined with a pause, then returned her attention to the board. “But what is missing here, Biker? What’s the letter we don’t see here even with this extension?”

Biker looked the jumble of letters over but couldn’t tell. He wasn’t quite as bright as his girfriend. He operated as the heavy of the duo. “Dunno.” He speared another salmon piece with his fork and gobbled it up.

“The *I,*” she spoke. “Of all the letters, it’s the ‘I’ that’s missing.”

“Fantastic,” an unimpressed Biker grumbled while picking up his empty plate and heading for the stove again. “You still good over there Tammy?”

Tammy quickly gave the fish eye to Poo underneath the table and then raised her head. “Good,” she nodded while smiling agreeably.

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