If we successively change Shamokin to Shamon per Big E/Big Schwa…
… the meaning of the song flips as well.
Tag Archives: Wheeler Wilson^^++\@
00490404
“Who are you, woman? Really.”
“I told you, Arthur ‘Orient’ Morgan. I’m Wheeler. And this is my place. Wheeler Wilson. Hence: Wilson’s.”
“Convenient, I say,” said Arthur back to her, smelling a rat the size of a town.
“Well… you tell *me* who you think I am?”
Demon, sprung forth in Arthur’s mind automatically, staring at her forehead and the placement of her flip style hair upon it. He said the word aloud.
“True enough,” she admitted. “All women are evil to a certain kind of man.” She let that hang in the air. Arthur stared at her.
“I’m a killer,” he declared about the core of himself. “I kill for hire.” He let *that* linger in the atmosphere. He gazed at her through the haze of untimely death.
“I know,” unfazed Wheeler Wilson said back to him. “But you’re *my* killer.”
Arthur thought about the various ways he could take that. Do I *kill* her? he thought. Or is she saying that I belong to her, as in a beau or something? Before he could ponder further, she said this:
“I’ve known you before, I’ve determined. We were married.”
“*Married*?”
“Yes, after you were buried. I killed *you*. Shot you right clean through the heart.” A smirk appeared on her face. She was way beyond him now, she felt. Try to top *that,* she seemed to present in her haughtiness. “But then I dug you up, brought you back to life. You presented me with a ring and I accepted the call then I accepted the proposal. Buried *then* married,” she reinforced.
“I gotta get some air,” Arthur said, shaking his head once more, as was customary around this confusing, confounding dame. “Am I, I don’t know, free to go?”
“Go where you wish, Arthur ‘Orient’ Morgan. Just don’t leave town. The boundaries of the town are the sims of Arang — here — then, Baekga the great forest, Kumiho the city center, Mago the beachside, Yongwang, and then Dokkaebi from which the closest Oracle match of Dokken Hollow comes from. You know, the Bang Bang Club, where we first met in this town. I sent you a teleport invite just like you did for me tonight. We watched Julee Cruise and then uncovered the truth of Dr. Tom, Cruise as well. 2n1… so common in this world.” She paused, not knowing how much to reveal right now. She decided to end it like this: “You are as much an actor in this world as you’d want in any world class Shakespearean play.”
“Hmm,” he said, getting up, having enough. “Can I take the drink with me?”
But then he looked down and he had none. Came with the booth, came with the place. Wilson’s drink. And now he was apart from her. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0404, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot
00490315 (Caledonia?)
“Who’s the cowboy in back now?” asked Chet to his on again off again girlfriend, this time toggled on.
“Oh, some guy Mom says owes her a favor. Working for free because of that. Or snapshots… something.”
“Interesting,” Chet says, envisioning the poses. Not abstract.
“Is it?” Alice Tart slumps even lower in her seat across from her still upright, toggled on lover. From this angle, she can barely see his eyes above his perpetual handkerchief, worn not for fear of disease or anything like that but just because of the look. The lead singer/guitarist of Scissorrun© is all about style, and of the Christmas kind in particular. He never wants the holiday to end. Else: he’ll have to think about other things. Like death. Because of his emphasis on style over substance, he’s never really learned to play the guitar properly and that’s understandably held his band back. Drummer Sherwood is pretty rock solid with his naturally hyperactive hands and all. And bassist Karl is at least good on “Paper”, their hit single and perhaps the only song of theirs that really matters in the end. Restaurant manager turned band manager Biff Carter is urging Chet to take lessons from a local musical genius named Spiff, no kin to Biff despite the similarity of names. Not a long lost brother or anything… I don’t think (?).
Chet leans toward Alice. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.” He’d heard it hurts more the second time but of course didn’t say this aloud.
“Oh I was over all that the first time around,” she said, dismissing the sympathy. “Anyway, Mom has a new man now,” and she nods toward the kitchen.”
“Really?” says Chet. “That quick?”
“Yup. That quick. Pictures did him in, I’m guessing.”
Chet nods. He understands the power. 319.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0315, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot
00490310 (the truth)
“It’s suppose to be a representation of the Red Room from Twin Peaks but, as you can see, it’s not quite finished yet. Gotta get that zig zag black and white texture for the floor… and so on.”
“Really nice, Wheeler,” I say, wondering again why she hadn’t shown me this before. “And the painting — I assume it is a duplicate of the one over in Salty’s, in the old storage area behind the cooking section.”
“Or the same,” Wheeler answers. “Maybe this painting is in the past and the one over at Salty’s is more in the future. Or visa versa. Depends on if Arthur is still tied up over there. And I think he might, making this the, um, future?” She looks over at me. “But you’re not Arthur. And we haven’t made a deal yet. Better get over there, then.”
“Okay,” I said to end things here. Because I was never really here without her. I wanted to talk about the old core of avatars and her role in it. Baker Bloch — me, in essence — came before Wheeler. Baker Blinker came before her. Baker Blinker is more me than her. And then Hucka Doobie came along to make an original three. Hucka Doobie is of course the spiritual guide for the blog and attached photo-novels as a whole, although she hasn’t been in the recent ones as much. That might change. Then there’s Karoz, kind of my blue-green alien brother, if I am the same as Baker Bloch which I mostly am (Whitehead in Da Woods). Then and only then came Wheeler, and, at first, she wasn’t who she is today. All that changed with the photo-novels, 2 if not 1. She came… in 2. All the rest were there long before even 1. She was the last who became the first. Arkansaw.
But we never got around to that discussion.
I watched her disappear up the stairs and then I did too.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0310, Arkansas, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot, RDR2
00490305
She looked over at the files that go with the painting before leaving the door, debating in her head whether to throw that into the deal as well — as a sweetener. If only she had a copy… or a copier. “Wheeler… is that a last name? Or first? Or some kind of nickname, I don’t know.” In his chair, Arthur struggles against the tight ropes to no avail. She’d tied him down good. Old girl scout, let’s say.
“Wheeler is a way of life,” she answered cryptically. “Wheeler is something that goes and goes only to circle back in on itself again. Wheeler is love; Wheeler is… truth. Wheeler is. In short: I don’t know either,” and she emits a soft chuckle with this.
Arthur is shaking his head now. “First you appear to be someone I know, then you knock me out — don’t know how you got the drop on me so quickly.” And here, Arthur laments being overpowered by a woman again. A man would have been bad enough. He puts great pride in his strength and agility. Maybe she’s some kind of athlete, Arthur ponders, struggling once again in the increased frustration. Or a *witch*. He’d heard about such creatures roaming the streets of St. Dennis at night. And also over in the swamplands. “Then, you drag me in here,” he continues after finding the ropes as tight as ever. Arthur then looks around, sees the car tires, sees other objects he doesn’t understand. “Where are we anyway? This almost looks like it’s not St. Dennis any more.” How long was I *out*? he thinks.
“It isn’t,” says Wheeler. “We’re in a place called Rodentia formerly complemented by a giant white — and brown — rat named Rodentius, a male for the female. Yet Rodentius has left the scene. Giant bathroom in the sky is all I’ve got so far.”
“Nonsense, lady, er, Wheeler,” Arthur quickly decides. But he’s shaking his head still, trying to absorb. “And what about that *painting* you mentioned, the one I could trade for. Answer me!” His frustration had spilled over into rage. He’d reached a limit of whatever patience he had left.
Wheeler kept silent. “You’ve had enough for today, Arthur. I’ll come back tonight and we can talk more about the 2n1. I’ll let you cool down for a while.” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0305, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot, RDR2
00490304 (Queen)
*CLUNK*
—–
She paced behind me, asking me question after question that turned into 1 question I couldn’t answer. “What did you do with the picture?”
“What picture?” I ask.
“THE picture. Of *me*… o-or, at least from the thighs down.”
“Well… who *are* you?” I ask back.
“You know who I am.”
I pause, gathering the energy to say what’s next on my mind. “I *thought* you were someone I met back in Valentine. But apparently you’re not.” Must be the illness making me hallucinate, I think here.
“Am I not?”
No, I wanted to say. You’re most likely just a common hooker. Not a noble person like Mrs. Downes. She could have made it big in this world with her heart, her determination. Instead he made her into, well, *this*. I deserve what I got. Death row for Arthur “Orient” Morgan, a man with a Far East history that would do him in.
(Red Row too, if Arthur (Morgan) equals Arthur (Kill), as I, the author (Arthur?), believe it might. We’ll see… but let’s not end there.)
“I want that picture you stole from the gallery,” she continued, emphasizing her purpose in all this. “The one from the wrong side of St. Dennis, the *Southern* part.”
“The underbelly, yeah,” I admitted.
“Right, you give me that and you can go. You can seek out the real Mrs. Downes if you wish. You can pay for sex with her, you can just pay her without the sex, I don’t care. I just need… that *picture*.”
Dutch saw this coming, I think. He said it would be worth a lot one day and to hide it in a safe place, which I did. Turns out he’s right. Knowing my own well-being didn’t matter at this point, I thought of as much money as I would need to make Mrs. Downes comfortable in her older age, put her back on the right track and potentially allow her to thrive. “10,000 dollars,” I say aloud after determining the amount I’d been formulating in my head for a while, maybe since May. “10,000 or you won’t be able to find it. Kill me if you wish. I’m a dead man walking anyway.”
She ended her pacing, went to a nearby door, peered in. “How about… a trade? Thighs up instead of thighs down. And a man instead of a woman. Aand, clothed to the hilt, military style. An opposite painting. North for South. But just as valuable, probably even moreso. You can make up the difference later on.”
“Well I need to have a look at what you’re talking about first, lady,” I say while turning toward her as best I could given my roped circumstance.
“Yeah, ogle while you can old lady,” she speaks more to herself than me it appears, still staring through the window of the door. “The King will be taken from you soon if I have my desire.” She pivots toward me with this. “Wheeler,” she says. “You call me Wheeler.” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0304, Dokken Hollow+, RDR2
00490211
We’ll return to the theme of all encompassing, all absorbing toilets soon, but first we must introduce yet another location into this here photo-novel 49 blog story, and, yes, I can hear the reader groan and/or sigh here from the weariness of keeping track of them, ha. Place called Heartsdale which is no stranger to the photo-novels as a whole, having already appeared in (as I’m checking) 03, 08, 13, 19, 23, and especially 20 of the run. 20 is also where Paperville has been most prominently featured, but that might be what we could call an “accident”. Let’s say that for now. Anyhoot, Heartsdale seems pertinent because of this Missouri based motel within the 1 sim urban area named “Mad Misery” due to a sign malfunction. Actual name before the breaking: Madry Wise. Scene of not one but several tragedies according to the attached story.
from photo-novel 20
1-2-3-4-5 the rooms are numbered along a north-south line within the sim…
… just like with the Wilson City-Wyatt fused town seen in section 01 of the current photo-novel also found in Missouri. Pretty sure they’re, let’s call it, synchromystically connected. Another TILE.
But let’s start in the “beyond the game” 6th room where we can secretly peer into at least the 5th. Wilson. (TBC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0211, Heartsdale+, Missouri, Paperville+, Weird-o Islands+
00490210 (all encompassing toilet (Schrodinger’s Man too?))
That’s it, she thinks. I’m going in to check on him, single room bathroom or not, this so-called water closet of the Paperback Pixels Cafe of the town of Paperville alternately called Pageville. I’ve tried at the “door” once. Curtain… whatever. Said he’d be only a minute and that he only needed to do a number 1. 15 minutes to drink a 4 shot latte and then 20 minutes to pee it back out? Didn’t make sense. One more time with the call.
“Rodentius? You all right in there? I — I’m starting to get worried. I’m… coming in. On the count of three — get ready! One….. two…..” TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0210, Paperville+, Starfield, Weird-o Islands+
00490209 (“curse purse”)
Peter walks through the tunnel leading to the temple named Penn and changes into his 5 year older brother who is the same age as him in the process. Another queer dream!
Numerous pens scattered on the floor within, along with a couple of pencils inserted here and there to reinforce the theme. Just what Peter Tron needs so that his good egg good friend Bardie can properly express his feelings and not have to inadequately speak about them. Penn produces pen! Marvelous. Goal found.
He’s about to pick up a couple of ’em to bring back when he spots a phantom version of the painting he’s been working on so long and hard recently above a step ladder to his left colored the same as the cyan energy lines in his futuristic bodysuit and also “frisbee”. He knows this is leading him further and that his journey into the temple is not done with the writing utensils.
… down a side passage…
… brushing past narrowing walls…
… into Center.
He changes once more into an even older brother who’s the same age and gets back to work running the place he remembers he’s the black king of, this Paperville and attached Weird-o Islands. True endpoint for him.
Tron Axis checks his watch not on his arm. 10 years have passed, period. Close enough to make it stick. He inks up the antique blue jay feather pen in front of him to continue even further down this rabbit hole of a place.
Bathroom, he thinks while putting quill to parchment. Bathroom is next. Water closet.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0209, Paperville+, Pennsylvania, Weird-o Islands+
00490207 (ambiguous)
I could live with that, she thought while watching the man continue his yoga exercises from her 2d, painterly existence. Peter Oesso we can assume, although it’s hard to tell without the tell-tale t-shirt. It was only fair. As he paints them they should be able to paint him *back* and tell him what they feel as well.
We’re in another Bellisaria continent gallery, unregistered just like for the first we saw Peter in toward the beginning of this here section 02 of this here novel 49, painting away at his own interestingly textured/colored/lighted passion. Strange how these keep popping up for me. Not trying to find them — just do.
Now let’s get to the surprising menagerie lined up outside against its back wall. Perhaps a replacement for *my* menagerie coming over from nearby Newbank. Or just a way to move on from Bellisaria into something else after review. As usual, we’ll see soon enough as one post progresses to the next. (TBC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0207, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Continent 06
Sunklands 