Turns out Karl was his invention all along.
Different cartoon character, same results.
Survival beyond the watermelon.
“I’ll spill everything,” said Karl to Mrs. Ordinary in her not-so-ordinary hometown of Chapel Vile after the mountainous hike with her aunt to rendezvous with the Ant. “Whaddaya want to know?”
“Thanks for meeting with me. I wasn’t sure — you were my friend still — after last time.”
“Of course I am. Old old water under the bridge. Us *cores* gotta stick together, eh? he he.” He slapped his flabby side to reinforce the healing aspect.
“Yes,” sip. But she couldn’t get the bloodlust scene out of her head.
A broken rib to end, but, like them apparently, it cleaned up nicely. The observing 88’s helped a lot with their prompt calling of the ambulance and police, good custodians both.
The situation had subtly but importantly changed. Axis was in the old Chevrolet now, and its coat of red paint had faded to pink, perhaps over time but perhaps not. Just pink: one of a kind. He remembers being married to Alysha, who was formerly Wendy and so on and so on. Took a while to jar his memory. A t-shirt should do the trick, she thought earlier. Except she couldn’t buy one — she had absolutely no power in this *New Eden*, none at all. The rib belonged to Adam again. She had to just tell him. Up straight.
“Yes: Axis. Now listen.”
“I wish I could say this is a good place I brought you to, like John F. Kennedy City, a decent burg, a city you’d want to raise your kids up in and send them to school, packing their lunch box with goodies like corn chips and cherry squirt soda. But it’s not. This is a sour place instead. I — don’t want you to even look around. This is like *Florida*.” Indeed Alaska had been left behind, exercise fanatic Douglas Fairbanks and the rest, although we may pick up his particular story later.
We next find them driving down Rib in search of answers, heading toward an intersection with Eve and the truth.
“Thanks for letting me go first, Wheeler. I appreciate it.”
“Outta my way, BLEHHHH. Sorry!”
“Tell me about the tree, W.”
“This is it!”
“Ah, yes. I see: TILE again.”
“Of the modern?”
“Another gallery on Nautilus, W. A new one. Left leaning,” he added, looking at the inworld map.
“This is me.”
“Mistress said not to be disturbed.”
“Not to be disturbed”, echoes weaver Tealie to roller Tillie’s issuance.
Neither look up from their respective tasks. Big Red lumbers by them as if they didn’t exist. He opens the door to the far eastern room.
“We tried,” Tillie said afterwards, rolling a green one now.
“We did,” Tealie quickly followed, weaving his own color still. Always.
Waiting for the go cart race to begin. Excited whispers of Petty all around. Or is it Ketty? Who’s Ketty? Baker Bloch asks himself upon honing in on a name.
Ah yes, *Ketty* he remembers at the next stop in the Amusement Park after throwing up the entirety of his veggie burger eaten earlier that day. Wheeler soon followed suit — all over her man suit. The he sets them up she knocks them down situation continues…
The 2 88’s in back: fine.
“*You* okay?” Wheeler returned, seeing more green around them than red afterwards.
Baker Bloch set his jaw straight. “We’ve got to get to Ketty before he gets to us.”
“Again!” Big breath. “Let’s just get out of *here*.”
The 88’s volunteered to clean up but Wheeler thought that was beneath their job description. After performing the task anyway, they pointed out the word *custodians* in the 1st sentence of their contract.
(to be continued?)
“I miss Baker Blinker,” confesses Baker Bloch to Wheeler afterwards. The story was interesting fer sure. Morgan, pheh. Tess… hypercube. Wormhole again! They were indeed connected, like two particles that act as one over a distance. But not the 2 Bakers, queerly enough. Not any more. Wheeler had usurped.
“Are you ready to order?” Peter Soso, back from a watery grave or something. So hard to remember some of the characters, or at least their backstories. So many now. Must simplify. I’ll make it a 2022 resolution. But the presence of Soso here was already complicating matters. He was blunt. He was not in the mood to chit chat. He probably didn’t even remember me, if we’d ever met. I looked into his merman eyes, scanning for recognition. I remember him being with Prissy, a mer-creature like himself. But then…
“I’ll have a hamburger,” said Wheeler across from me. “Extra blood.”
Disgusting. “Veggie burger for me.” In tandem, like I said. I set them up she bowls them over. Again and again.
“Very well, sir.” He turned to Wheeler. “And sir.” He took our menus and made his way back to the kitchen down the pier to place the orders.
Well he obviously doesn’t remember *you*, I thought about Wheeler. Along with her “man suit”, she was wearing her flip style hair tonight, which made me start thinking of Baker Blinker. Tag team wrestlers they were, at least at one point in time: Flip and Magicka Bean. I had to ask. But first there was the little matter of her Morgan story.
(to be continued)
“I found something, W.”
“I did too (!). You go first.”
START “You know how the last photo-novel ended in 256, when Norris, aka Harry finished downloading the entire Red Room, as Casey One Hole entered and saw his own Ass — edness.”
“I found the continuation. It’s a wormhole.”
“Not hahaha but hmmm… kind of funny.”
“Kind of funny or fully funny, in a hmmm way?”
“Do you want me to continue or not?”
what B., aka Baker Bloch found
“Okay your turn, W.”
“Oh, mine’s nothing in comparison. Really (!).”
“Try me.” Baker Bloch knew they worked better in tandem than separately. She’d found something.
“Okay (!). If you insist.”
“Just put a picture in the blog like I did. In this post.”
“You know what post.”
“I Don’t Know, hahaha.”
“I know. I’m delaying. But for a reason.”
“*Where* did you find this? How about that to begin.”
(to be continued)