Tag Archives: Sugar Dumpling

berry sad

Poor, poor Berries, Duncan thought while scouting out the basically deserted Sugar House formerly owned and managed by Sugar Dumpling, sometimes wife of Jacob I. They decided to go somewhere else all together. But maybe one or two remain, perhaps limber, persistent Thimble. She was most likely his favorite of the bunch, or perhaps that was just because she rented the ultra-handy room across from the Police Station he was so interested in spying on in the days. The glory days of Gaston before the great exit.

A few bouncers remain behind but they just seem to be aiding with the cleanup of the bodies.

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stripes

He was staying with Thimble these days, another dancer. Not that their relationship was all that serious of a thing to him — when was it? — but her second floor apartment’s view toward the Gaston-Berry Police Station put her top shelf over the other Berries.

And, yeah, The Berries really dug Duncan. He was different, unique. No, I’m not really talking about his singular status as a male African-American in Sugar’s employment. It’s just that they could see the inner boy within, the core innocence, unruined — unlike the case with about all of them. It attracted these kind of women like flies unto maple syrup.

But tonight we flip sides of the record. He had to dance for a dude. Alright, cool, cool, he said to himself when learning about the assignment. It’s all for the art form — good to keep practicing and staying limber. And he gets to keep all his clothes on; no funny stuff there. Sugar said the guy also requested that he doesn’t look at him. “Just focus on the dancing,” she ordered. “Don’t make eye contact. Just interact with him in as minimal a manner as you can get away with. He’s probably self conscious because of the damage to his face. I don’t know what happened to him — don’t really care. He paid good money and that all I need to know. And you too.”

—–

Midway through his first sequence, the bleached face man spoke. “You don’t even know who I am, do you?” But Duncan kept to his routine per Sugar’s instructions and didn’t answer.

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work for me

“I see you out there Georgie Porgie!” screeched Sugar Dumpling from the rickety pier. “You can’t run away from me! None of them will work. I made *sure* of that!”

George Duncan gives up finding a functioning sim skipper for the day. Maybe forever. He might as well go back into town and enjoy the advantages of being grown up, pheh. What he understood of it. Only in his Abbey was it safe to be himself. A boy of 10 to 13 and back to 10 in an endless loop. Sometimes he glimpsed 18 on sunnier days.

But there was another way out, he knew, impossible as it sounded. Find Jacob I. and bring him home to Gaston. Back to his Sugar Dumpling. Then he would be set free… and only then. It seems I simply have to give it a try, he thought to himself while clambering out of the boat and exhaling loudly. I can’t go on with this. And I feel I don’t have a lot of time left before The End; the Abbey will ultimately be found out and then cease to exist. Like a bug extinguished with a magnifying glass.

“Get back to your apartment and do some real work for a change!”

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in the dark

The place was way too dangerous for George, so Duncan had a go at it alone. He teleported into the very center of the sim just like the characters in the blog suggested — this Central Park.

But it seems George might have already been here! Duncan thinks, looking at what he supposed was a child’s fort. It wasn’t.

Duncan unwisely walks into Main Street from his concealed position in the park. Now if I remember correctly, he deliberates, the police station will be up here to the right.

It was a little longer trip than expected in risky territory, but then he was upon it. Potential sugar house! Hard to even tell it was a police station from the ground level.

Qwirty21 smiles at him from behind some walls. Best to get inside as quick as possible, he realizes, and walks through the main door.

But the barred entrance to the inner sanctum of the station was locked. Duncan decided to wait in the reception area until a policeperson or other employee showed up, so’s he could hopefully get some of the story behind the structure.

Brushing aside a couple more propositions from the outside for the next hour, Duncan then watches Sugar Dumpling enter the station in a huff, beating her rolling pin repeatedly against an open palm.

“I’ve been waiting for one of you to show up and stay a while, ” she started. “Where is he? What have you done with my Jacob?!”

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Flies

They were told to stay close to Gaston’s Central Park and act like flies on the wall. Pretty Man disobeyed one morning and wandered down to a side patio beside Sugar’s House, thinking he would be concealed there behind a tall fence. But he was almost immediately spotted by BitterAlmond1995 and propositioned. “Cure for your ails,” she claimed about herself through the intervening walls. Quickly teleporting back to safety, Pretty Man wiped his brow, seeing he wasn’t followed. He was not an alien, true, but what cost for surface beauty? Sugar’s Berries (their slogan: “ripe for pick’n”) stick pretty tight to her house, just like he and his fellow escapees Gregg Oden, Chuck Cheese, and Maury “Jiff” Monroe should keep close to the park, the calm eye center of a storm which contrasts to that eyewall location of greatest sound and fury.

But Sugar herself, being of greater vision and knowing all such storms have such centers, knew why they were there. Her counterpart Jacob I. had escaped in a larger way, with accomplice and experienced jail breaker Tiny Tina trampled under foot. These dudes and dudettes had nowhere to go, like caught in paper.

I will be a fly back at them, she thought the morning of learning about Pretty Man’s intrusion into her territory. They are in my vision and will not leave. I know where they are. There’s a secret parchment, secured by sealing wax, which might allow her control of the *other* “Sugar House” in town, the one now called the Gaston-Berry Police Station. Because there was no Berry to patrol. Berry did not exist except as a concept. This was her secret weapon.

Rolling the dice, she unrolled the parchment.

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Mars Probe 03

The day before Thanksgiving Baker Bloch lost his job as a receptionist for the local bank. Turns out he was only a fill in for a female cyborg who had worked 30 years for the business before leaving town. Leaving town like everyone else would be soon. Because, you see, INSCO will shortly be no more, maybe as early as the first of December. So explained Lemon and Sugar to Baker Bloch at the piano bar that same night, attempting to prop him up after the layoff. They too are leaving soon — packing up. Baker then confesses to his 2 new girlfriends about his mission to save Collagesity by finding what Wheeler has repeatedly called the beating heart of Mars. “If anyone would know about this,” they said, “it would be Old Mabel. She’s usually down at the Blue Ant these days, drowning her sorrows over the impending loss of her town.” They explained to Baker Bloch how to get there. “It’s in INSCO Central, a tougher neighborhood. You better ditch that campy Space Ghost inspired outfit,” they suggested. “Will I see you again Lemon and Sugar?” Baker asked at the end of the get together. “No,” they said, and kissed him goodbye, one to each cheek. Baker Bloch couldn’t decide which of the two he’d miss more. They were joined in his mind, like a refreshingly ice cold, tangy but sweet drink in midsummer’s heat.

Baker explores more of the town before heading over to the Blue Ant for a potential rendezvous with this mysterious Old Mabel.

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He remembers to change his outfit. He teleports back to the piano bar for one last shot.

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All the missing chairs and tables (and people!) at the high-end 7 Seas Restaurant: it all makes sense now. INSCO is in its final hour, final minute perhaps.

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If only he could have been here during its day. Trying to blend in the best he could, he thought. Trying not to seem so… alien!

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It’s time for the attempted meeting. No need to keep the disguise up. He senses no real danger in this almost vacated burg. Mainly just people checking in for one last look-around, he rationalizes.

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“Hope Old Mabel is still there,” he mutters to himself while ascending the stairs.

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Mars Probe 02

Fast forward several weeks. Baker Bloch now rents an apartment in a considerably larger Martian city, probably the actual one referred to by Hummie the hummingbird during his stay in Jacksboro. The name in this case is INSCO — all caps. He’s also found out the name of the dusty city with the Mars Bar. It’s Toledo, a location often mocked by his new neighbors and co-workers. Because, yes, Baker has also acquired a job: as a receptionist for one of the local businesses.

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He been trying to increase his knowledge of the red planet in other ways.

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Despite the surface brilliance, Baker has come to feel like this is an old town. His apartment chairs contain only a few sitting scripts, and his knees keep protruding through the dining room table. His sink doesn’t even work, and he has to get his water from the shower. Compare this to Jacksboro with its more modern and abundant scripts. This is a dying city, he’s determined, an aging behemoth.

But what it must have been like in its day! Still a hauntingly beautiful place. Reminds Baker of that movie he saw a few years back called “Bladerunner,” based on a Philip Dick novel.

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Baker’s taken to hanging around the local piano bar pictured above with a couple of neighbors named Lemon and Sugar. Sugar is most likely a prostitute, but no fear there dear readers, since Baker is lacking in that department. Lemon is a neurobiologist, with her current project being something called “Robolution Number 9”, a study of mind-body fusion between humans and simulants. And that’s how she and Baker became friends, because Lemon was enthralled when learning about his old dog ship formerly piloted by the same type of technology. This past Thursday Baker gave her a tour of the ship. The next day Lemon’s friend Sugar tagged along, which, in the end, turned into a 3 way wrestling match. A good evening, and a nice way to let off steam after a hard day of laboring. Sugar broke one of her ruby red fingernails, however. And Lemon lost a yank of her naturally yellow hair.

But what of Baker Bloch’s mission? He’s sinking deeper and deeper into Martian culture, forgetting about Collagesity and the takeover by Wheeler. He wants to forget Wheeler, period. He then thinks of Baker Blinker. Now Baker Bloch can’t play the piano worth a lick but that doesn’t stop him from trying, much to the chagrin of Lemon and Sugar. Saturday he finally remembers the sadness and emptiness of soulmate Baker Blinker and invites her over for a bit of tinkling with the ivories. However, Lemon and Sugar drove her away, Baker Blinker explains later, after Bloch’s return to Collagesity. “They wanted you there and I wanted you here,” she said plainly. “I had no place in INSCO. I had to leave.”

But what a performance she put on while there (!). Spongeberg’s Invention No. 9 dazzled Lemon, Sugar and the rest (Pepper, Wrinkles, Pop), with a cheered-on encore being the always popular “Water Uncles” by Pokey and the Fish.

“Wheeler can’t reach me here,” explains Baker Bloch to the other Baker as she was closing back the lid to the piano keyboards that night. “I know,” she said, not looking up. “But neither can I.”

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