Tag Archives: Wendy/Breeze^^++$

June 26, 2021 · 10:20 am

four

He studied his hands while they waited on their food. “I think I’ll keep these for a while, Wheeler. I can play the guitar real good with them, frets included.”

“Call me by my real name,” she purred from across the table.

“Wendy,” he acquiesced, staring into her eyes. The scars around them were disconcerting but they were suppose to be. He could look beyond. He wondered about the 2 eyes becoming something else. Pools. Vortexes. He looked away, just in time. Back to the hands…

“The tune was called–”

“I know what the tune was called,” she interrupted. She smiled. The location brightened considerably, he staring down all the time. If he had a watch on the wrists of his new hands it would be…”

But you know.

—–

Done.

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June 26, 2021 · 9:53 am

rolling with a number

Ahh, just as I suspected. An early form of The Rolling Joints controlled by Jon Deere, their *manager*. I wanted to say, “Hi George,” but I didn’t want to interrupt their playing. I could still hear the green clad Sheriff strumming along to the same, partially improvised tune “(“4:20”) in the distance; just around the corner. But (she thinks while staring into the bakery), it seems I am already here…

He dare not turn around to see that schweet secret smile. He must remain a baker dedicated to his craft.

Almost ready.

(to be continued?)

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June 4, 2021 · 8:41 am

where’s the beef?

If we could just recreate the original crime scene. Pigeon roosting on ass; Amanda Stoorm placing an ultra important call to Buster Damm.

Call? Looks like we just did. Duncan Avocado brings it home.

—–

“I knew you’d be here, Ginger. Because of the face replacement clinic and all.”

“500 lindens for a whole new look. Worth every penny!”

“Yes, you look great, you look fantastic.” Could Duncan date a high class white chick like this and get away with it in this town, this place in the center of it all? It would be controversial. Maybe *he* should get an operation. He knows a certain Dr. of Mouse who might be able to help. He ponders the outcome, black to white. But is he running away from his heritage because of that? He’s *tired* of being discriminated upon, but he’s in the same boat with the rest of his color. He can’t date fair, red haired Wendy down at Mac’s Diner either for the same reason, that damn white racist rat Pansy watching over it all. If only he could get rid of the Pooping Pigeon franchise, maybe create a reality where Wendy branches out on her on, dumps the hot dog angle, and goes all in for burger. Pure Angus beef; not those ridiculous fillers for the dog like lips and genitalia, even if that isn’t quite true. People could be trained to *think* that.

And that’s what he decided that day in the late of May or early June or whatever. Kill the Hot Dog, stick a pigeon on its rump and call it done. Killer Andrea Stoorm, trained in the Death Star battalions, knew what to do, Buster guiding her and then Buster telling Duncan what actually happened. “We manipulated probabilities in that Middletown alley that day in early May.” “June,” I corrected, but understood it all now. There was only one actual killing, the other 5 being deflections or subterfuge. Although it still thrived in other realities, in this one the Pooping Pigeon was over almost before it started, with Pansy behind bars behind a bar instead.

“What’ll it be Duncan, my man?” Always the “man” for the black dude, he observed. But at least he still played his old music here.

And now: Hidi.

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June 2, 2021 · 7:36 am

lost and found

“So (the phenomenon) all started in this here diner. Pansy?” START Dr. Mouse looked around but no actual or at least anthropomorphic mouse could be found. Had he turned into Jasper the littlest formerly between his ears and scurried away to safety and obscurity? Possibility.

—–

“Theories, W.”

“Well… I think this diner is obviously the first Pooping Pigeon, start of a chain. Obvious, right?”

“Possibility,” I said again, not ready to pin down that particular reality to this here blog, 25 in a series of… I mean 26 in a series of…

“Probability at *least*,” she countered. “Probable reality. We must go down that path, that avenue.”

“Hot Dog, the 6th victim who became the most famous, on the wall in back, true,” I admitted, starting to see the light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

“Ketchup on one side,” also observing W spoke. “Mustard on the other. Two squirters who are also squirts. It was a great marketing tool.”

“Funny how they hold his buns instead of him… as Hot Dog I mean. Emphasis on the buns.”

“Right. See how this is working out? No need to stop.” STOP

—–

“I can’t name the Amazon Amazonia, W. I have a tag of that name.”

“Trivialities. No need to bother the reader with such. START You need to find the 12th (Source tile), like I pointed out before.”

—–

Wendy went away from the register and approached the counter again. “Who let you in here?”

“I let myself in,” replied Duncan, seeing the game beginning again. Long, long tunnel.

“Yeah, don’t lean into me like that. Pansy!” she called back to the register. “A little help over here!”

Ah ha!

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May 7, 2021 · 3:39 am

lone choice (cake eaters)

I thought I recognized you… *mother*. Now talk before my finger gets itchy.”

“Talk to Cory. Talk to Cory!” she defended herself, panicking to get out of the crosshairs.

She meant Austin of course. Austin knew everything, or at least a whole whole lot. Enough to survive any firing of questions.

Or was it Eckert. Peter?

Knowing mother most likely had an aunt or two packed away in her back pocket, Dinner Girl called for reinforcements, which meant W since no one else really wanted the job, none of the other cores that is. Plus she wanted to buy some clothes from the freebie stall this particular realtor of the lower central northeast sector of Corsica had set up ’round back, maybe a summer dress or a pair of sandals or a straw hat. Something that started with an S to go along with the hissing of summer snakes. So I guess we’re dealing with a Joanie.

Make that Hidi.

Dinner Girl covered her while she went around the corner to shop. Play before work, she always said.

As she perused the contents of a box full of swimsuits, red tie donned Jefferson Thomas studied her intently, wondering if she was a member of Pot-D or Pan-Z or perhaps both. Like himself.

“You there!” Dinner Girl called over, spotting the threat. “Back away from the hamburger girl!” Mother took the chance to hightail it out of here herself but was gunned down in crosswalk, a distraction that allowed JT to escape with the girl. Like they had it planned all along; sacrifice for the greater good and all.

—–

15 hours later, a rose holding bride posed for a picture outside the house across the road, just wedded again to the late great Jeffrey Phillips. “It was the only way to bring him back,” she lamented later to a broken-hearted Kolya back in Nautilus or thereabouts, his lemonade gone stale again.

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May 2, 2021 · 4:33 pm

3 cores and a dummy

The train was 2 full and so that’s how they all met. Jerry, also named Harry; the nice Indian man Hidi the hamburger woman started to date afterwards — the proximity was just too close in there; and lastly but not leastly, Kolya, the damaged one. All we needed was Alysha to walk in and take a seat opposite them, but that was for later. In the here and now, we have the 7 merging into the 6, secret smile discretely packed away like a traveling trunk for boys.

“I knew he was damaged and we shouldn’t touch so I turned the other way.”

“Toward… Jerry,” I guessed. I figured the red complexioned Indian dude might be named Jerry as well. Jerry Lind perhaps, compliment to Jenny.

W thought back to that important time and place. They were traveling at a breath-taking speed, destination unknown, perhaps to New Delhi and Delhi and thereabouts again but maybe not. The white tiles flew by outside, almost at a blur’s pace; opposite of turtle or snail. We were in Wallytown I knew that. W didn’t seem to be able to really leave, now she’d met Jerry Lind (we’ll keep calling him). Giant for a day and maybe giant forever. If Wallytown had its way.

(to be continued)

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May 2, 2021 · 3:05 pm

Jerry Lind

She’d basically been living in Wallytown for I don’t how long, weeks at least. She’d taken enough showers to kill a cow, wash a bible head starless black ink sculpture all the way back to clear. She wasn’t done. Someone was with her, urging her on. Her worse half, as she called the louse (see above). This was the Orient, this was India. *She* was India. It was about time for an interview.

India: Glad be here. Glad you like my secret schweet smile.

Me: I missed you in Delhi and New Delhi. Turns out it was American instead of Asia.

India: I like hiding (laugh; smile revealed again).

Me: Chef-inspector Petty is hot on your tail. How do you feel about that?

India: He’ll never find me. And if he did he’s just a mesh object. No danger to him, none atall (smile again).

Me: What of the plane?

India: There *is* no plane. Petty knows.

Me: What of Kolya, who also goes by Pepi and Can?

India: (after a pause, then serious) A schweet boy, but damaged goods. I dare not touch him.

Me: And Alysha? We seemed to have scared away all the main characters.

India: *We* are the main characters. Always have been, you and I (she points to her and me).

Me: Alysha is Asian (I tried).

India: We are done.

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April 30, 2021 · 6:40 am

Fieldore, actually.

I feel like I’m missing something in the sim of Fieldon but I have a lot of time to figure it out. I sense I’ll be traveling up and down Highways 13 and 14 on either side of the beige ridge Collagesity fairly centers for a while.  I came to Nautilus from Rubi (Heterocera), I left Nautilus for Corsica, and then, lo and behold, found my old Fordham land was for sale real real cheap and figured it was a sign to move back. I don’t think I’ll be leaving again soon.

Here: New Jersey State Police, Nautilus Station off Highway 13 to the east of my home town, about 400 meters as the virtual crow flies. Jerseyville IL is named for the state of New Jersey which is named for the channel island of Jersey, another loop closed. I couldn’t establish a New Collagesity on the Corsica continent so I had to reinstate the old. It’s been a fascinating journey so far.

Look, I extend my draw distance to 512 and the Collagesity skyline comes into view. How nifty! “Right Harry?”

“Jerry, actually.”

—–

Later, back home: “Jerry… Jersey. Maybe that’s my missing piece, W.”

“For now.”

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April 29, 2021 · 6:28 am

00260111

The *phone*, sir. Put the phone in the box.” Customs officer Wanda Raphael glanced over at fellow officer Wendell Sampson, having seen it all now. It was as if it was glued to his head.

“No no no, it has to be *lime*,” he insisted to the other party on the line. We’d seen him before, blue as FLY. Which he does, airplane or not. It was a moment frozen in time.

“Who is the pilot in this confusing story?” asked W, manifesting by my side. “Is it Tickie — is that his name? The blue fellow, perhaps the blue meanie?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly back. “There’s the problem of JOVIAL to deal with.”

“*Jeffrey Phillips*,” she exclaimed, remembering the Santa of the same disposition back in that other curiously resonant post. “He’s returned!”

“Maybe.”

“Who is the true ruler of Collagesity now?”

I let the question hang in the air like oxygen. I breathed deeply, taking it all in then exhaling. Calm the hell down, I remembered. I did recall that.

—–

Ship in the sky, plane in the air. I had that as well.

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April 27, 2021 · 9:13 am

Bushhhhh

I was told to meet him at the end of a long and dusty road. I said the name of the plant that appeared to be burning in front of me instead of the man.

“Nooooo,” he rasped. “I’mmm just *talllking* through thisss. Loookkk cloooosssser. Commme herrree.”

It was the voice of the father this time. I knew I was in deep doo doo trouble.

—–

“I remember how I got brain damage,” he said to her afterwards. “It was a fire; I got too close.”

“Good good,” she replied. “Now maybe those old wounds will heal — Can.” Only those quite close to him called him by that name, he remembered. She edged closer and gently touched the holey hair. Soon maybe no one else can get inside.

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