Soon he had reached the end of his Abbey Road on the west edge of Vail.
One step further…
… and he was in a different place altogether now. Vila. Uncle Zach was (again: miraculously!) waiting for him in his Calypso Tuk Tuk Taxi.
“Where to, Butt?” He meant bud. Or did he?
The Lord balancing Sugar Houses.
We know this is “Abbey Road”.
And that something is definitely going on at the Rhino along it (portal).
We know a lot about this place by now. This Gaston. But we haven’t quite grasped the story within the story. Is there one? That’s what I’m aiming to find out.
“We’ll have to kill him.”
Zach’s still waiting for Georgie Porgie and Heidi Widey to emerge from the Joint Joint. He fears the worse. He’s been there for 2 days now. But he’ll wait till The End.
What really is at the end of Abbey Road?
Where have all the Berries gone? Where’s Sugar Dumpling? Where’s… Jacob I.?
We know it is a place to hide (Hidden Vilage). Hitgal represents someone.
“But… what’s you think?”
Why the doubling with the Vilania safe hub? Why can’t Hank Graphite get back there instead of here?
“It wasn’t suppose to be this way.”
Why flies in Central Park of all places?
“Well here we are lady,” spoke Uncle Zach, currently (and miraculously!) posing as a taxi driver. “The Joint Joint. It’s haunted you know. That back room. Back in the back. There’s people back there that shouldn’t be there.”
“I don’t care,” Heidi replied innocently with naive voice.
“Two eggs, they say,” he started again, hands extended and wavering to accent the spookiness. “Floating in mid air without any wires.”
“I’m not scared of eggs.” So child-like. Very surprising (again).
“You haven’t seen *these* eggs. Different colors they are. One glowing red, the other: green. Two colors that don’t go together well — at all. And: are you going to get out or not?” His haunted story had run its course. For now.
“Goodbye Mr. Taxi Man. ”
A boy appeared in the chair beside the door. Heidi changed as well.
“Shall we enter, Georgie Porgie?”
“After you, um, Heidi Widie.”
He always had trouble keeping up.
It was almost a perfect sim, what with its trash and gutter filth. Very realistic; a perfect place to meet… someone. And the Oracle predicted its importance: Hidden Vilage (etc.). But she must return and merge with the other Hucka Doobie, the one that didn’t get this far. She knew that.
But she still had some time before the exit.
The Rhino represents a direct link between here and NWES, our new focus. Rhino in each. And the *same* one (same object from same owner).
George’s Abbey Road VW remains just down the street. An indication of what’s going on (Portal; multiple).
If only Jacob I. was still around, she thought while laying outside the *original* Joint Joint in the “Black Side” of the village, another thing shared with NWES (and right beside the duplicate Rhino over there — more emphasis).
Ah ha. Tin Machine.
Uncle Zach still shooting up and not listening to local phenom Firesign Theatre. But we’ve seen him more recently: Pipersville; (owner of a) *Gas* Station (Gastion). Should’ve known.
And that was Firesign Theatre on the turn table up there. Not Tin Machine. My mistake. Platinum (not tin). That place must be Domino’s still. Hitgal is probably around, then. Best friend Sangria too.
This side of town retains power.
Diving in again…
“This Lena Horned is good, admittedly.” Older Keith B. looks over at the singer currently crooning “The Ballad of Stormy Daniel.” He then leans closer to Kate McCoy sitting beside him. “But she’s not as good as my little girl.”
A noncommittal Kate turns toward the dance floor. “Well… Zach and The Mann seem to be enjoying it enough.”
“And The Dogg too,” Keith B. laughingly adds.
“Mind you, I’ve seen enough giant rats in this town to do me a lifetime, boy.”
“Come on, Uncle Zach. We like the same shades, same drugs, same women. Why should this be different? You *gotta* dig Firesign Theatre, man. It’s just the chillest.”
They listened some more. “Okay, who’s this Hemlock Stones they keep talking about?” demands Domino’s uncle at a tipping point. “Why is he listening to that crazy, transvestite woman and her problems; why do they keep looking for pirates down at that wharf?”
“It’s Sherlock Holmes, stoopid. Man.” Domino shakes his head. “A *spoof*, dad-i-o.”
“I’m not some beatnik fool. Stop calling me… *dad-i-o.*”
“Alright,” Domino relents. “But just *listen*.”
They listen again. “Me and the doc on the dock with the dog — the deadly dog,” the record rapped after a spell. Then said dog exploded.
“Honestly, son, I think I’ve had enough,” and Uncle Zach moved toward the table loaded with their drugs to retrieve a heroin syringe. “I’m going to a place I *understand*.”
A downcast Domino lifts up the needle while Uncle Zach inserts his own.