Tag Archives: Ross C.^^~~~~~#$

variables

“I’m tired of all these books, Ross C. Go into the future and get me some clean ones, without the virus that’s going all around the place.”

Ross C. bleeped and blipped and estimated that it would take 5 man-hours to return from the future with the equivalent amount of books currently in Andy Warhole’s library, 1/2 of art and 1/2 of other. He never reads them, however. He just likes their appearance in this room when visitors come around. Which should be tonight for Marilyn, Hilter, and the rest. The party starts in 3 hours. Not enough time, Ross C. realizes. She tells her master this.

“Then just get rid of the lot of ’em,” Warhole waves off. “Build me a big aquarium and fill it full of colorful and exotic fish. Get the color pattern from my Marilyn screenprint, the one from Niagara (movie).” Ross C. does the blipping and bleeping thing again and now estimates this will take 10 hours to create, or twice as long as the new library of books. She tells him this.

“Then let’s just, I don’t know, *move*. What are we doing here anyway? This is not my apartment; these are not my books. I don’t have an apartment in the City. I live on the east coast, next to the clean, refreshing Korean Channel full of war ships and war planes and flags and explosions. So exciting. Move our asses, yes. That’s what we should do. That other art fellow lives here instead, Barry or Barren or something or other.” Warhole looks out the window. “Why he’s just painted that Super Building over there, turned it into a *Supper* Building to make Dinner Girl and her lot happy.” Warhole sighs. Ross C. waits patiently for more orders. They always come. She knew they didn’t have to move since they don’t live here in the first place. Or do they?

Warhole settles back into the plastic pink couch, resigned to host the party since everyone is already invited. “Destroy the bookshelf, yes. Just destroy the wall. Why do we have 2 rooms in this City apartment? Studio apartments are where it’s at. I am an artist after all, Jesus. Destroy the wall.”

Ross C. estimates that it will take 2 1/2 hours to destroy the bookshelf and the wall between the 2 rooms of the apartment, fusing them into one. But that doesn’t include the cleaning up, which will take an additional 1/2 hour. “It will be close, master,” she offers in her metallic way.

—–

I loove what you’ve done to the place, Andy. It’s so — open!”

“Thank you, Marilyn.” Ross C. hides in the corner behind the door with the filled dustpan, unable to escape when the first wave of guests arrived.

—–

“PERfect!”

Party over.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0503, Black Ice, NWES Island

you got it: maps again

“A message to all my fans out there. Some like their Pink hot.”

—–

“This will never work, Elberta,” Toothpick states at another low point. “You’re so beautiful and I’m so… ugly. Never mind the whole brother-sister…”

“I’m going to stop you there, potential husband of mind. No, better, I’m going to *absorb* you. I want to see what happens.”

Toothpick/Filbert was at a low point, as stated. He had nothing to lose. “Take me.”

—-

“He must never find you, Ross C. He’ll destroy our little square world if he does and make everyone in it miserable.”

“Happy (*zip*) unhappy,” she sputtered.

There’s only one way out. *Become* the world, see. See me in him and him in me.”

Robot from the future Ross C. saw the truth in it.

—–

Hotgirl was freed from Misery Cabin but was unable to speak about her experience there for a while.

Old reality was flickering on and off.

She eventually made her way back to GASTON.

—–

“What we *need* to do,” old companion Domino told Hotgirl Hitgirl Hitgerl Hitgurl Hitgal while they watched piled up house band Firesign Theatre play for the 4th time tonight at the Rhino, “is to similarly change *Misery*… to *Mystery*. That’s what [delete name] indicates.”

“Shuts your trap.” But the seed had been planted.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0022, 0407, Gaston^^, Hana Lei^^, Iris^

further

“I want to be a Bonham or a *Moon*, but not necessarily a *Star(r)*. What did Uncle Axis say, exactly?”

“You better ask your mother about all that. It was *her* brother.”

“Okay. I will.” Then she put down her fork only to pick it up again. “As soon as I finish eating this superbly delicious meal Ross C. prepared for us.”

“Thank you, child,” robot maid Ross C. cooed from just around the corner, humming with pleasure.

—–

“I’m *sure* SEAN “Green” Penn won’t mind me borrowing his row row row boat while he’s gone to New Orleans again. Maybe I should have gone with him. Gotten away from thinking about the Big Inside — too much time on my hands without him, etc.” She looks straight ahead and aims the boat accordingly. “Sure hope mom and Charlie aren’t at it again, like the last time I dropped in. How embarrassing!”

—–

“Yes, that sounds like Uncle Axis,” responded Marsha “Pink” Krakow’s mother Parasol (Krakow?). “By the way, I forgive you for telling your father about us.” She looked back at Charlie Banana, eating yet another of his kind. “Sure, sure,” he mumbles with mouth full of yellow. “Tell your (swallow), dad, that its the best thing that happened to us. The sex is truly *amazing* now with all the guilt going on.” He stared at Parasol again. “Not that it wasn’t *amazing* before, um.”

Now white Parasol turns to her daughter again. “Just go back and tell your father that you’re okay, I’m okay, we’re all okay. The Big Inside is just a dream. You were dreaming, dear. Dr. Baumbeer has been dead in his grave oh, about, 5 months now. 1/2 bat (and here Parasol laughs) — I don’t *believe* in monsters, sea *or* sky.”

“I saw one,” spoke over Charlie Banana again while peeling one more. “I’ve lived on the water, this houseboat, all my adult life. “I’ve seen ’em.” *bite*

“Oh stop it.”

—–

And with this Marsha “Pink” Krakow returned to her “Good Side” of Storybrook mansion, convinced the session with the resurrected Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer was all in her head. Wrongly, of course.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0515, Corsica^^, Storybrook

introductions

She had come to see the band but they were away. Well, Jim A. was *permanently* away, replaced by this mysterious Jim B. who was 20 years younger. And what about herself? Also 20 years displaced. It was 20 years ago today (etc.).

The Band; a make-believe one inside a real one. But the make-believe one had come to overshadow the real, like a Virtual Reality within Reality Reality begins to take over and work its powers outside in as well as inside out. Glove.

Satan.


“Hell-o hell-o hell-o.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0505, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

leaves

“I believe there are witches in Toppsity, Hucka D., turning the elements upside down. Perhaps Marilyn herself, who, after all, caused a Niagara in the suburb of Ona to complete the 4.”

“Fiji,” Hucka D. *finally* speaks. “Heaven for the Red Dwarf’s Cat. It is good that the Truths are leaving town for greener grasses.”

“Start the seed business anew elsewhere,” agrees Baker B.

“Maybe,” Hucka D. attempts to add. “Maybe…”

“Yes?”

“In Sink X?”

“Golden,” probably corrects Baker B. Me, after all. I should know better than anyone. Me and Hucka.


“Say you got it from a man from the future, huh. Wish I had one of those back in the days.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0410, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Toppsity

Niagara

“Well Gabby,” requested Brother Amos, “What do you see? Unfurl the whole long, boring story of how we got here and where we’re going.”

“Yeah,” exclaimed Marilyn in her breathy, ditzy way. “The fire is, *raging* out of con-trol; the earth is, *swamping* us alll…”

“I’m seeing something,” gabbed Gabby suddenly. “2 more; 4 total. A teal figure. Some kind of… creature. And the 4 colored clown. Um, *stumpy*, not as tall as a normal person. But much larger than the creature still.” He pulled his white face away from the scrying ball. “A possum I’m concluding. A clown and a possum.”

“*That’s* our, *fu-ture*?” cooed Marilyn. Warhole across the way pounded one iron fist into another, obviously displeased. “Marilyn, Marilyn, Marilyn,” he monotoned. “Marilyn, Marilyn, Marilyn, Marilyn… Marilyn.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0014, 0215, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Toppsity

continuation

This was the night Andy Warhole, iron hand ruler of White Horse Village near the southern shores of Blue Feather Sea (aka Little Sea aka Big Lake), learned about usurpers Your Mama and Raggy Too over at the concert area next door. They didn’t intend to pay the tariff for importing songs! Well… all of California will suffer for that. And anyone who has to suffer through Mondays. Words of love, those are. Tough love.

“I’ve seen them in the night talking to white horses. I knew you’d find out sooner or later. So I intervened. I beg mercy,” he gruffed, pecking his paws against the wooden floor while rebalancing.

Mercy, thought Andy Warhole, iron hand raised and then repeatedly pounded against the non-iron one. They could ruin *everything*. All his future plans. Future plans for the past. “Ross C.,” he demanded. “Wake up Ross C.” The robot sprang alert. “Yes sire,” it clipped metallically. “Eggs and bacon and livermush as usual?” Warhole emitted air. “No, this *isn’t* breakfast yet, Ross C.” He shook his head and then indicated Mamaduke, the dog of Your Mama and perhaps Raggy Too. “Tell her, hound, what you’ve told me.” Perhaps she can actually earn her money now as a robot from the future, an *expensive* robot with all the perks, most of which he afterwards found lacking or absent altogether. A *defective* future robot he soon realized he had on his hands. After the seller had conveniently slithered away back into the web of time.

Mamaduke repeated the issue at hand for Ross C. Her thinking lights began blinking on and off rapidly. Bleeping and blipping noises emitted from the general area of her head. Soon she had a calculation. “Kill then,” she clipped out. “Kill them all.”

Made sense to Andy Warhole. Good job!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0114, Maebaleia/Satori^^, White Horse Village

a cube revealed (Blue Feather)

“War-HALL,” he exclaimed from his chair opposite Ross C.’s, or at least the one she stood behind. “Not War-HOLE.”

“I will correct that in my programming, sire.” But she never did. To her he would always be a hole with capital letters. She’d served him too long.

“Anything else Mr. Warhole?”

He sighed. “No. You may retired for the night. *Behind* your chair again.”

“As you wish, sire.” Her lights went out as she slumped over in place.

“You again (!)”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0113, Blue Feather Sea^, Maebaleia/Satori^^, White Horse Village

ruff

“And the little house beyond?”

“Phillips.”

—–

The horse leads, the horse tells.

Doors opening.

A man, a woman (sort of). A shallow grave.

So close.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0103, Maebaleia/Satori^^, White Horse Village

outside

If I could just block out Linden — Philip Linden – and make Tronesisia whole(some?) again, she could come back to life and reestablish lemony goodness over blimey lime at New Island. Sight returned, *smell* returned. But while the kiln exists, the firing could happen again. Over and over. Female receptacle.


Artist Point, July 20 2018

Ratzenberger could become the original Our Second Lyfe sim, not Da BOOM. Ratzenberger and its *still present* wacky rabbit. Pretty amazing.

Mr. Matrix, equipped with his own ratmobile, had laid the bait several months back in the Pond District’s Rodentia. Cheese for the rat, but also carrot for the rabbit. Rat bit. But then he determined that he was probably the rat (bit) himself he did seek. Another wacky loop.

So that’s it. I must return to the Pond District and follow up on the story of Mr. Matrix and also Wheeler’s presence there. Mt. Pond outside a window. Paint bait. The wackies look on and get organized and in line behind her. “Paint paint paint!” they shout in unison. “Art art art!”

She must return to the point of it all.

She imagines dreaming on its top.


Rodentia, July 20 2018

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, New Island^, Pond District^