Tag Archives: Shelley Struthers^^++

trunks

Shelley loves hanging around the beach. Arthur and she have such a great time night after night, day after day here… in Mortons Gap overall. She could see living here, staying here. A bit laggy, but they’re working on it, reducing shaders, draw distance, etc. Even minimizing screens, their view on the world, if needed. It wasn’t ideal. But — so pretty.


If she could just erase that full moon faux pas from her memory. What did Arthur do that night? she wondered for certainly not the first time. Because she’d found lipstick on his coat which wasn’t hers — she rarely uses it except when they hit the town. And the smell of lobsters. Or was it crabs? — she’d have to check the difference between the 2 later on when they walk down to the fisheries. Do it nice and subtle.

Nearby Arthur was building another one of his patented sand castles, complete with ants that he’d found on the vegetated dunes in back. He was trying to recreate the past. In truth, someone had put a spell on him. George/Musician most likely, if only from his dreams. He wanted to walk up to the real Ant Castle later that day, thus Shelley’s excuse to visit the fisheries kind of on the way. Ah heck, she’ll just ask him. Why does she care if he stayed with another woman that night. *She* was with a woman that night. Served her right. Painful, very painful, but… what was the right expression for it? Tit for tat, she decided. Or tit for tit — something.

She swung down from the palm tree, walked over. “About ready to go?”

He was about to coronate the new king and queen of the ants after building their thrones. “5 more minutes,” he requested, herding the crowd in the right direction.

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00360411

Good to see you back home and safe, Mrs. Shelley,” spoke Sam the bartender. “Mister Arthur was looking for you this morning. Said he was going for a walk — Ant Castle I believe was specifically referenced by the sir.”

“Yeah,” spoke Shelley. “I didn’t come home last night. Wandered down The Trunk.” Sam nods here understandably and sympathetically, having heard this before. “Got lost.”

“Aah The Moon again,” he said, knowing it was full last night. “Did you do anything you can’t take back?”

“I…’m not sure.”

“Then you better choose. Dark Side or Light Side. And which is which in your mind. Because if you don’t, The Moon will choose for you. I approximate you have about 1 month to decide. Or 27 or 28 days, ma’am. Which *service* will you choose?”

Pretty profound words there from a bartender, but, then again, he was studying for the priesthood. Or to be a gourmet chef… choice will also come to him soon. She decides and I decide, he realizes. Because instead of praying he was cooking up a storm last night, shrimp, lobster and crab being the victims in order. “Rock’n it,” he said at one point in the heat of creativity, expertly blackening a shrimp with one hand while boiling a lobster to perfection with another. Master chef. Or not… a crab dropped out of the pan while he had a moment of doubt, fear creeping into and intruding on unconditional love. God, he thought later. God disapproves of this night.

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00360409

She was hoping beyond belief. “Tattoo parlor?” she tried, drawn in by the butterflies.

“Hair salon,” replied glowing pink haired Sep Felton, not seen in a while. Not since Wallytown, I believe.

“Any?…”

“Nah,” answered Sep to Shelley. “Too small (of a town),” she explained about the lack of such establishments. “Haven’t seen you around — figured you were a stranger.” She takes in her visitor. At first she thought: plain. Now she’s starting to reconsider. “Where…?”

“Morgans Gap,” Shelley said, anticipating Sep’s own question here. “Vacation — honeymoon, actually. Just bumming around the neighborhood.”

“Well, you’re a pretty fur piece down The Trunk to find this place (!).”

“Yeah, I guess. Got the wandering feet today.”

“Where’s the significant other?” Sep began to fantasize a relationship with the increasingly cute visitor. She couldn’t help herself.

Where *was* Shelley’s recently married hubby, if not just married? Their honeymoon had been postponed for a month because they had to find exactly the right spot to do it. Morgans Gap was the place no doubt. They were visiting a gallery in the area, heard about the Ant Castle on the mountain above the town, and the rest fell into place pretty quickly. Arthur Kill withdrew some saved money for the purpose out of the bank and handed it over to 3 1/2 star rated Hotel Higashiyama down on the beach of the town. They haven’t regretted it one moment. More role play tonight, Arthur promised. If she can get back before bedtime. She checks her online map. Dang. How did she get so far away?

“Well…” tried Sep — hoping beyond belief herself this time. “I have a spare room upstairs if you don’t think you can make it back tonight. Sun will be setting in about an hour. Just saying… trying to be hospitable. Us Marooners like to cultivate that reputation.” Which was true, although Sep knew she was trying to cultivate something else. Better end this post and check her history in the photo-novels.

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the present

—–

“I think this case is wrapped up, Pretty. *Petty*.” He turns red again. “Pretty much wrapped up,” he tried to cover himself.

“Thanks Officer Glammerpuss.”

The place will have to be quarantined for a week because of the moondust but the business should be able to reopen then.”

“Cathy will be pleased.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get all the rocks?”

“We think so. There’s one that looks like Neil Armstrong, then one like Buzz, then the other one — I assume it’s the 3rd.”

“Collins,” answered Petty to this, due to go on his other job in 2 hours and don a chef’s hat while ditching the inspector’s coat, no rest for this busybody. He reached into it to withdraw a match, ready to relight his current stogie, 8th of the night. At one point there was even 2 in his mouth at once. so excited he was about the news. Queen! Coming to Hardrock. So says Glammerpuss, the big, well, he just loves Queen. They both do! Ah heck, might as well try. Officer seems to be hinting around.

“Listen, Glammerpuss… Chuck.”

“Tim. You call me Tim.”

“Listen, Chuck. I was wondering…”

“Queen?” It just came out of his mouth automatically. Petty turned to stare into his eyes. Chief Wigwam walked up, interrupting the moment as he was suppose to. He gazed at the ribbon on the wrapped up door, symbolic of the case itself. He thought about procedure, getting ducks lined up in a row.

“Better start the paperwork on this Glammerpuss while the memories are fresh. Petty — aren’t you due to present me with a fresh dove omelet in, say (he checks his watch), 2 hours?”

“2 1/2,” states the chef-inspector to this. “Gotta warm up the oven first. Say, Wigwam, can you give us a moment. There’s just one wrinkle on the case we have to iron out.”

“It’s Collins,” spoke Wigwam. “The one they always forget the name of.”

A small smile breaks on Petty’s face. “No, not that, Chief. Something else. Just… give us a moment.”

“Oh alright. See you when the sun comes up. Glammerpuss — paperwork.” He walks away.

(to be continued)

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Yellowmoon Ridge

There’s grass (living) and there’s hay (dead).

Dr. Back appears ant-like on the hill. No going back.

“It’s a girl, Mrs. Kill.”

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gamers

—–

“The guy’s been there forever,” whispered Shelley.

“I really want to play Pac Man,” replies Arthur in a not as hushed voice.

“How… (she glanced over) how about Space Invaders? Right next to him — you haven’t played that as I recall.”

“Really?” is all Arthur could say to this, giving her a look. Pac Man is classic. Space Invaders is a game for *kids* in his opinion, a shoot-em-up. Not even on the level of archaic Pong.

—–

They went next door to sip on saki for a while but the bleeps and blips from the now lone player at the arcade persisted. “Might as well go back to the hotel, dearest. Prepare for Liz again. I’m kind of eager to try out that broken telephone booth outside — see what kind of action that can produce.”

But Arthur wouldn’t relent, not for that and apparently not for anything. He’d stay here at the upper end of Mortons Gap until the ends of the Earth.

Does this also spell the end of Arthur in our story? Shelley has many suitors available to her, it seems. But there’s Liz. Yes, Liz. Arthur also recalls that and finally relents and goes back to the hotel, eventually ending up at the booth like she desired.

“Hello?” she starts the roleplay. “Is this the Moon?” She slams the receiver back into its carriage. “Damn thing’s broke — no *4*!” On cue, a telephone repairman saunters up to the booth outside, loaded down with the tools of his trade around a maximized belt. Until he dispenses with it.

“Dang, Shelley. Just not in the *mood*. Can’t get *over* that guy back there!”

Yes, Arthur might need to disappear from our story for a while. There’s always Keanoob. And Edward, who most call Eddy these days. Might as well drag another character into the story. Appears to be a motif for the novel by this point — character overload. Location will help stabilize: Mortons Gap here. Both of ’em, actually. 2 places at once.


“she just wanted to be included”

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00360314

“Over here, Arthur. Behind the bushes!”

—–

“Black against white. As it should be.”

—–

“You’re not ashamed of us still?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, well. The bushes.”

She sighs. “It’s just so we could get more romantic. Towel has a better view of the rocks over there I like so much.”

“Ropes, yeah.” Arthur stared out, thinking of George/Musician. “Have you heard from him lately?”

“Him?”

“You know. Him.”

—–

“Strange dreams, yeah.” Continuing, he thinks to himself.

“Moon is bright tonight. Better get you back to the hotel.”

“Okay.”

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00360311

She figured if she didn’t find paradise in Mortons Gap, where would she? Bartender Keanoob was cute, and also a good talker. Not that she’s looking any more — she has Arthur after all. They’re married now, at least last time I checked.

Yes, married. This is most likely their honeymoon destination. There were some Durexian-Trojan war memorials here, plus the Ant Castle, whose history also fascinated Arthur. Shelley was pliable — she could go anywhere as long as there’s beach, sun, drink and decent internet access. It was okay here, not the best but doable. She could log onto 3rd Life relatively easy, although for best results she had to reduce her graphics by getting rid of all the shaders. And also minimizing the screen at times. But it was manageable. She’ll play on it a little later, after Arthur has gone to bed. But first: a drink.

“Lemons’ freshly squeezed, Shelley,” spoke Keanoob in his pleasant Japanese accent. He didn’t look like he was from that country but he claimed to be a native. He points to the lemon tree that we look between the split trunk of in that photo above.

“Oh dear,” she said, looking at the time on her watch. “Better get back to the hotel, Keanoob. I’ll have to save that drink for later.”

“Oh okay. You know where to find me!” he called as she dashed off.

He put away the lemons, cussing at his lack of action. Shelley had that effect on men, though. Made them want to follow her to the ends of the Earth, Second Lyfe style. Funny how 1st and 3rd Life are spelled with an “i”, while Second isn’t. Must be a middle problem.

Limes. Only stuck with limes now. “Tequila, Lucy?”

“Sure.”

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B52 (Bingo)

“When do you leave?”

“Day after tomorrow (pause). It was a lot of money.”

“I assumed so. Coming from Back.”

“Just a shadow figure,” Charlie Banana reinforced to his best mate Hatti, currently without one, blue hair which can sometimes be mistaken for black fully exposed. Both mate and girlfriend. But not wife. Perhaps they never will be now. “No face.”

“I know the feeling (another pause). You know Shelley and I go back a long ways. In some ways we’re closer than sisters. I understand her and she understands me. We discussed it on a beach far away from here once. Far away in time now as well. Hard to recall what we spoke of. She already knew about Liz there. And, of course, I had…” She tried to remember but couldn’t. Then she did. The eternal lover now. If he assumed a certain shape. Charlie Banana could be the same.

“Are you going to the Ant Castle first?” she began again. “Or just Mortons Gap in general?”

“All I know is that it has something to do with dogs.” His voice was pleasant, melodic even. Hers: a little more shrill but not unpleasant. They could both pose as ordinaries to others, which they weren’t. You have to be at least 108 years old to join the club they’re in, which includes the Silvers of course, the founders and owners. Brought all the way here from Neptune by the powers that be, some say. But we happen to know it’s Mars.

—–

We could have guessed hot dogs, we could have guessed feet. But it was actually dogs.


“Simmer down out here,” spoke Banana from the balcony, tired of the constant yelping and baying. Moon indeed.

A mysterious stranger arrives from the sea to the west, ready to rock his world.

(to be continued)

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the goats know

“It’s a trance club, sir. Are you sure you want to go in there?” She looked him over, noted the dated clothes, the glassiness of his aging eyes. Might not make it out. Like a lot of them; like *most* of them. There’s a queue of carcasses out back still. Ready to be buried alive as if antiquated VHS tapes.

He knew he had to. For Shelley. Yet another door was opened that he possibly couldn’t walk back out of.

He stopped his simple walk in the midst of it all. Cold breath came out of his mouth. Must be 20 degrees below what it was in the foyer. Maybe 30, or even more. Moon indeed. And it could be getting colder ta boot. Yes: people, susceptible ones, could die in here, he thought. And he had some kind of lingering chest congestion he couldn’t get rid of.

He stared over at her, prepared to start her yoga routine on the green bamboo mat, turning green herself in the process. True center. He recalls the 108/108/108 spot in Perch-Mistletoe where he also stared at bamboo, a whole wall of it there, across the canal that evenly divides that most central of Nautilus’ sims in two. This is 108 as well, he realized. Moon itself.

She begins the motions.

Soon after our Wolvie, born oh so shortly before, was no more: absorbed.

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