Tag Archives: Susan^^+++++$

July 26, 2025 · 4:11 am

00470413

“Why yes I’ll accept your goblet of wine almost naked and equally tall Colossus before me, ha ha ha.”

Shelley Johnston Struthers wakes up drooped over her laptop, realizes she’s got to finish the current photo-novel before August 31st or overdue. Hiding the tempting body evilly illuminated by the black hole sun behind her, she gets back to it.

—–

“It’s YOUR fault, you know. The death of Susan here. You killed her!”

“No, YOU killed her!”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

—–

Oops. 7 o’clock already. Time for Newt to watch TV with Wheeler. Better say my goodbyes and head out. Maybe for the last time, PHEH.

(to be continued)

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January 16, 2025 · 4:03 pm

00450505

“You are like Jesus in that you can walk across the water to get to your Dry Spot, your place of safety. Go ahead. In your own time.”

Philip goes for it. Yes, he can walk across water. He is a God in this place. He can even control the weather, which will come next. But first the Dry Spot, that Dry Rock in the Dry Spot. Here he can rest, he knows. He decides an hour would be good. Hour Rock becomes a secondary name. Hour Spot.

Fern leaves him alone for a bit in his special place, knowing silence is good. Rest from guidance too.

He’s walked across the water. He’s almost there. Just over there it is.

Ahh. There. He settles in. The rock acts like a natural chair for him. He is comfortable. He is one with this world that mirrors our own in dimension if not quite realism. Not yet. People are coming, he knows. Cars, horses, animals, *windmills* already here. He just has to find the Data Hall in those dreams to learn where all of them went, all his favorite humans. Like Fink, like Susan.

—–

58, 59, *60*. Now for Wet (Rock).

Suddenly he was in the clouds, making it happen.

Poo-wer!

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January 6, 2025 · 7:41 am

00450412

“Susan was a goner, Fink. You essentially killed her with your attack at the beach. But you were only defending Jack, who would have gotten killed himself if you hadn’t intervened. If *Fern* hadn’t intervened. You first saw him — remember? — across Susan’s sprawled out body, his green matching your flesh, his square matching your round.”

“I remember,” said Fink. “I– didn’t mean to kill her.”

“*Told* you to control that freak-ish green arm better,” reprimanded Jack, then felt bad about it. “I mean, I guess you were defending me and all still.”

“I *was*.”

“*Anyway*,” said Princess Pinky Gumm, “I knew her essence could be put to better use than keeping her alive for another day or three at best until she succumbed to those obviously fatal injuries. So I used that energy, that essence to heal myself. Remember? I was possessed by The Lich. *I* wasn’t going to get any better.” Better her than me, Princess Pinky Gumm thought but didn’t say aloud. Was she 100% sure Susan wouldn’t recover? Actually: no. She had been selfish. Susan was a renegade cyborg killer, programming triggered by an electrical shock from a giant Acid River eel. But maybe, just maybe, she would have recovered. But that left the killer part intact still, she tried to rationalize. Yes, better her than me (for death), she reinforced to herself.

“How?” says Fink.

“I’m both a physicist and psychic trained at world esteemed Cal State, Fink. The answer would be too complicated for your meager brain to comprehend. Given you just made an F minus on what I would consider the easiest test on Earth.” Princess… Pink(y)… Gum(m), she reviews the glaringly obvious three-parter, and looks over at his blank, human face. So typical. At least fellow human Susan had killer written all over hers. After the eel. Kill or be killed, she thought once more. Yes, her complicated arrangement of physical-psychical interactions used for the transfer were justified.

(to be continued)

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December 19, 2024 · 4:28 pm

00450304 (Susan now)

The first thing big Susan said in “Adventure Time” was “Sha-dow!!”, and was about to run back inside her darkness when Fink spoke up. “You!” he cried. “*Your* shadow.” Susan, who was called Soosan at the time (or Big Soos), traced the rays back to his flashlight before her, then made the connection with the silhouette on metal wall behind. She stayed in place. “Sha-dow,” she said much more calmly, starting to understand the concept.

And that’s when they met, soon to become good friends, human to human. Fink had finally found someone who was like himself in that respect. Same species.

The last time they saw each other is when Fern emerged from the other side of her defeated body in season 8. Fink recognized his own face in another. Susan — Big Soos, the other human in the known universe — was no longer needed or necessary. He had himself from that point moving forward. Or so he thought.

(to be continued)

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December 18, 2024 · 7:41 am

00450302 (opened up)

“What you see before you is the Power of the 4. Let’s start with green, okay?”

“But — we’ve already *done* green, he he,” said talking dog Jack.

“Oh,” said Bill looming above them in his deep, lispy voice. “Alright. Then: blue. Okay? We haven’t done blue yet, have we?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” says Fink, still human as far as I can tell. Much like *Susan*, but we’ll get to that. Su-san.

“Okay, great. I’ll just put a little gemstone in the slot representing green, and…

“… close enough. So are you ready for blue? This shouldn’t take as long.”

“Okay, alright,” agrees Jack.

“Sure, why not,” says Fink.

“Nice. So let’s begin.”

—–

“After retirement on that fated day of 3/1/22, err (checks his notes), we have no further contact with green and blue is to pay. So you approach blue, tell him who you *really* are and that you actually have a life *outside* the library. You tell him you’re a writer, a creator (by nature). You don’t tell him about the photo-novels but he didn’t ask either. He is *busy*. He was going to respond to your email but hadn’t had time yet. You must be patient with him. His story is not yet told. I suggest we come back to him in, say, 5 years?”

“*5 years,*” I exclaim. “But I need to resolve this *now*.”

“Oh.” Pause; deep sigh. “Very well. I’ll accept that blue’s story is done for now even though it really isn’t. Yes (smaller sigh), we should move on. To red.”

(to be continued)

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December 17, 2024 · 9:28 pm

00450301

Trading her jumping jacks in for jack squats, Fern sensed (and felt and heard) a great disturbance in the force.

“Lichen!” she screamed, intuitively knowing what had caused the castle to suddenly shake as in a quake, her exercising over but her exorcising just begun.

But first there was a problem of revealing herself in a proper way to Fink, who was now grieving over the resulting possession of his beloved Princess Pinky Gumm after the attack, the invading spirit having found the correct body to inhabit. Right now, Fern was just a figment of his imagination stuck in the basement or dungeon, guarded by banana soldiers to the front back side and side. Princess hadn’t said anything; she wasn’t sure it was real herself yet; didn’t want to alarm others until she knew for sure. This story must remain PG’s and not reveal any unrestricted, naked truths. And now she’s paid the price. Lichen needed to contact Fern from the Great Beyond and she’s doing anything in her powers to make this so! Even if it means displacing the soul of another. With Fink (and Jack) in the middle.

“Princess,” calls Fink at the bedside. “Come back to us, PG.” He looked down again at her blue-not-pink face, those slime green pupils set in pitch black corneas, the clammy skin. And she didn’t smell the same either. Not all candy-like but — dare he even think it? — sort of like death. Or at least rotted trees.

“Must talk — to — *Ferrrrnn,*” the spirit hissed within the body.

“Fern?” says puzzled Fink, figuratively if not literally scratching his head at the princess’ utterance, a recurring gesture. “Who’s Fern?”

“Well… I’m guessing it may be you or an alternate version of you since Fink is close to Fern,” Jack chips in from the other side of the bed. “That’s what my dog instincts tell me. I don’t know, hmph. Prob’ly should just stick to licking my butt and other more regular dog stuff. Call it a wild hunch, then.” And he proceeds to get on the floor and lick his behind while he’s thinking about it.

“*Jack*,” reprimanded Fink at the action. “What did we talk about, huh? Not in front of the princess! Especially not *now*.” He looked down and got even more depressed and desperate.

No more words in the script for poor, possessed Pinky Gumm. Now was Fern’s chance.

“Fink,” tried Fern again in a vision over the large, sprawled out body of Susan. “It’s me. Your other half. Remember. Re-mem-ber.”

(to be continued)

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December 16, 2024 · 4:36 pm

00450214

Princess Pinky Gumm had turned her grilling attention now to Fink. “So when did you first meet Fern?” she asked, knowing this was the current crux of the problem. They were still in the basement of her, ahem, castle. She didn’t like to call it a dungeon, although she knew these 2 couldn’t leave until she got some satisfactory answers, banana guards posted at the back front side and side doors. She understood about the 5 and 5 times to make 10 — that added up. She needed to know about the other, the double.

“It was across the sprawling body of Susan,” he explained. “I just looked over the top and there he was. Like me! Except, er, he was a square, and I was a circle.”

“Faces,” clarified Jack for deeply pondering Fink.

“Yeah. And green of course. He came from the grassy sword I found early. That sword combined with my ordinary one to make…” He stopped. He couldn’t continue any longer. The transference had not been complete.

(to be continued)

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March 7, 2024 · 4:37 pm

cyan dress, black hair: seems oh so familiar

“I’m afraid this is still 1961 guys. The little lady is going to have to sit elsewhere, hmm?”

“There. That’s better. What can I do you for today? Burgers?”

“No, nothing right now. We’ll order later when you have vegetables in salads,” commanded Wendy, appearing as if behind a shadow of a person instead of a real one.

“Suit yourself. My shift is over,” spoke Sarah. “Wanda will be over shortly to check on you. But I wouldn’t hold my breath on the vegetables. Have a nice day.” As she left with her tray of little burgers still untouched, Sarah glanced over at the space that would be a salad bar, currently occupied by a soda fountain and an ice cream counter. Sugar and especially meat would rule the day for a while, she knew. She’d worked in this here city long enough to understand that.

An Everly Brothers hit blared from the jukebox on the far side of the diner, perhaps “Cathy’s Clown”, their latest, as Wendy got down to business. “Soo… you said you know the whereabouts of the black man called Francis. Last seen here in Meat City.”

“The *negro* known as Francis,” rudely corrects Mathew, of a different color skin himself from the “norm”; obviously should have been more understanding of the situation. And why was he here with Susan in the first place?

Susan. Yes, that was her name.

(to be continued)

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