Tag Archives: Santa God^*~$

dark triad

One by one, the Clemscott holiday deities Santa God, Halloween Jack, and Melvin exited their decorated, semi-decorated, and undecorated castles in the sky and made their way into the Nascera related Wizard Retreat of the same plane, never to be seen or heard from again.

Eventually, a man formed in their place, the great 3-n-1. Axis was his name, a person of many faces. One of those faces was called JERRY.

He came out of the Wizard Retreat into a brave new world: Nascera. The date: December 22, 2009.

Oops! Give him several more hours and he’s over there for sure. “Sorry about that!” he apologies to the reader or readers. “Just warming up, you know.”

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Octopi

—–

“They’ve been out there a long time, Golden Joe. I wonder if the deal will go through?”

“Have you ever thought about traveling to the center of the sun, Marion,” she deviated in her deep, metallic voice. “It’s actually quite nice.”

“I remember Philip mentioning that concept once. Philip something.”

—–

“Alright, I won’t split hairs any more, Cooper. We’re both tired; 50,000 lindens it is. Now spill your contents on the table here and let’s count it out.”

“Okay.”

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Group picture: “The Great 3-n-1”


Left to right: Santa God, Melvin, Halloween Jack (Forest Retreat, Clemscott 2018/2/5)

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snow deal

Marion Harding hated the multi-leveled Christmastown section of Capitol City, but there was a considerable amount of money to be made on this particular deal. Elf trafficking. And this was the time of the year for boom and bust on it. He scouts out one of the main streets from a safe distance, watching some kind of grandma figure be gorged over and over by a reindeer gone rogue. He enjoyed *this*!

Bing Avenue it was called for reasons he didn’t understand. Anyway, that’s where the deal would hopefully go down, har.

He turns in his tracks. Snowing outside still. Better get busy and then head home before it’s over his guns again.

“Five green and two red.”

“Four green and three red,” he reluctantly countered. This would be his final offer.

“Ohh, ummm. Four and a 1/2 green, 2 and a 1/2…”

“You can’t split one of your elves in two,” Marion Harding gruffly pointed out. “Four and three. Take it or leave it.”

“Oh… *all right*.”

Santa God shakes Marion Harding’s hand, sealing the deal.

He leaves Capitol City to return to his Clemscott castle down 7 elves but up 10,000 lindens. Overall, a pretty decent haul and most likely worth the 3 kilometer long trip, he thinks.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

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’round the clock?

Santa God waited patiently for 10:15, when he would allow Baker Bloch to exit the Christmas Chamber. He wanted to be there in person to greet him and see his smiling face as he opened the door. Like a kid opening presents, except in reverse. Humph, he thought while staring across the castle’s open interior at the Christmas Mural — “Snowball” he lovingly calls it. What *does* he want here? The great 3-n-1 is within, as I’ve told Halloween Jack, the scoundrel. We should probably contact Melvin about this. Although rather an idiot, he’d help smooth over our differences. A quite square little fellow, but he has some allies on his sides and makes good points at times. We can meet at the Forest Retreat, a neutral spot. There we can achieve the low-down on this Mr. Baker Bloch’s motives. What’s *really* inside him and makes him tick.

—–

Halloween Jack was the first to arrive, taking a larger seat as per usual. Santa God refused to sit beside him, and squeezed into one of the smaller chairs two down instead. “Where’s Melvin?” he asks the taller deity. “He said he’d bring him right over.” Santa God reconsidered. “But I guess he has to give him equal time in the Nasty Bodiour”.

“He doesn’t have to sleep with Lady Mary,” Halloween Jack clarifies about Melvin’s own castle room. “He just has to lay with her for 15 minutes.”


Awwkwarrd!

“Melvin’s a sickie, if you ask me. And why does he get the highest castle again? First one here?”

“Yes, like I was first to arrive at our meeting and I grabbed a higher chair. I knew you wouldn’t want to sit next to me, and 3 down is too far away. Hence you are forced into a lower chair. That’s us, then… the two ‘Lowies’. I don’t like to make the same mistake twice.”

“I’m still a little higher than you,” Santa God replies about the position of his own castle while readjusting himself in his chair.

“Not here, though. Not now.”

“Hrmph.” Santa God turns his innate loathing back to Melvin. “I guess he’ll start to bedeck the place with his Fourth of Juli stuff soon.”

“Not until I take down my Halloween decor,” offers Jack. “That’s how it works. We don’t have enough prims otherwise. And yours, lets see, is due to come down December 26th? hehe.”

“August,” says Santa God disgustedly. “September till August. That’s the deal.”

“And I get the trees instead of you,” Halloween Jack finishes.

Melvin arrives with the guest to their plane.

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planes to see

“Approach!”

“Oh, it’s you Halloween Jack. What do you want here? A truce? I told you we can’t do a truce. We are mortal enemies!”

“No, Santa God. I am not here for that today. A stranger is amongst us. At my castle gate and now yours. A Mr. Baker Bloch. Said he understood that he needs to get permission from *us* to pass to higher planes.

Santa God guffawed. “What higher planes, hmph? The blank one without ours and Melvin’s castles? The huge, empty cave? The, let’s see, the one with the several smaller, empty caves and, um, a couple of flying fish I believe? There’s nothing up there! What pray tell does he want with the lot of ’em?”

“He said he’s looking for the great 3-n-1.”

“Maybe he needs to look into his heart, mind, soul. The 3-n-1 is within us and that is that. You’ll know one day.”

Halloween Jack ignores what he considers a more degenerate piece of Santa God’s religious mumbo jumbo. Like rotted fruit. Already they were battling for his soul. “Shall I send him away, then?”

“No, that’s all right. Let’s hear out his story, crazy as it may be. First, let him wait in the Christmas Chamber.


Christmas Chamber.

“That’ll put him in a good mood and help balance out the warped environment he experienced over at your dark castle already. You probably let him wait in your batty Bat Room, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” Halloween Jack lied.

“That’s what I thought.”

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Demons in Collagesity

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Bogota 08?

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“It’s a shame about Snowbob’s mother. Surely he knows, along with the father.”

“They know that she’s on assignment in Corsica, Old Mabel, and something has happened. Mr. Owens just came from Corsica and the sim in question.”

“I did. I just got information that I may not be returning,” spoke the chef/detective. “The filly I was tailing got wind of my investigation and set sail in the middle of the night. I may be staying here a bit longer than I planned. But the new mystery has got its claws in me now. It’s that book.” He pulled the stained slip of paper out of his pocket and opened it in Baker Bloch’s direction. “Pill,” he repeated. Baker Bloch could clearly see the word. It was the third time he had shown it to him. Yes, his interest was certainly piqued. “In the wine,” he added. “Wine,” he emphasized.

“Yeah, we’ve known something odd was going on (in that direction) for a long, long time Mr. Owens — Kenny. I might as well start calling you Kenny since you may be staying with us a while. The main question for now is: why did the giant female show up in the middle of the sim in question and play a game of roshambo with the tiny Minoan who is now Old Mabel’s good friend? Then why did that somehow open up a door or window or something into the place beside the motel you were staying in and allow (us) a glimpse into the firey death of Snowbob’s poor mother caused by this Jerome fellow? Who is Jerome T. Newton? He’s obviously a killer. Then there’s the burnt-to-a-crisp cow across Robin Lane.”

“I’ll talk with the giant,” said Old Mabel, sitting on the floor between the two and still staring up at the newest Bogota collage, at its central Snowmanster and what might have been. Christmas. “She’s got a name, by the way: Brenda. Jiff — the tiny Minoan you speak of — and Brenda are friends.” More than friends she almost said, but decided not to reveal that whole story yet. So big and so small. How does that work? she asked herself yet again.

Kenny yawned and stretched his arms. “I guess I better head back over to Collagesity North and get some shut eye now; have to get up early for the interviews with Snowbob and his father. ‘Preciate you showing me around the galleries tonight. Weird I’m in them. I know more. I must digest.”

Goodnights all around after that, with Baker Bloch and Old Mabel remaining in front of the newly hung Bogota 08 as Kenny teleports downstairs.

“He knows too much,” said Baker to the Martian.

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What might have been.

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What happened to yellow?

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An ongoing investigation.

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