00520101 (One)
https://bakerbloch.com/2015/02/10/edwardston-pattonsburg/
Yes I’m not through with you yet, you *Silver* couple. Back down the stagnant Patton Creek from its terminal point all the way to source Bananaboro you go! *Band*anaboro I meant there. After (the) Shift. Setting the scene: You’re in jail, *both* of you. The town of Bandanaboro itself, perhaps. Yet you hallucinate you are other places, other times. You stare at fruit and wonder about your predicament. Aannnd GO!
“Apples oranges and bananas, Tony B. I wonder what it means?”
00520102 (Pink)
“What’s in here boy? This viney cave?”
—–
“Ever heard of Dickey Trace?” I ask her when I wake up.
“The detective?”
“Kind of.” I paused to look over at her. My lovely [delete name]. “Well. I went to his sim in my dream.”
“Dickey *Trace*?” she realized when fully waking herself beside me. “That’s… not right.”
“No,” I agreed. It *wasn’t* right.
—–
Apes, he noted in his yellow banana way. And over there: the cave Eddy sighted the other day in late April’s May. Sometime — hard to keep track of time over here. The apes are trying to tell me something in their grunting, howling manner. Maybe just to leave this corner of their territory and get the heck out of Dodge? No, he determined, looking into their faces and seeing something subtly intelligent above and beyond primitive rage. A more nuanced message. I’m on the right track! he understood, yellow light bulb going off over top of his head to make his outfit even more bananas. They’re encouraging me! Sweeet. But I still probably shouldn’t try to pet them or be their friend.
Now to check out the water funnels, starting with that island over there. tbc
00520103 (77/77/77)
“So we’re here. Solidly in Ban(d)ana. Then orange rolling all around that, just outside these 4 walls somewhere. Out *there*.”
“Then apple — apples,” he completes. “*Way* out there.”
“Or in here.” Shelley points to her heart.
—–
“You know there’s only one thing to do to solve the cave issue. We talked about this before. I know it seems wrong–”
“Armoire,” she cut him off, envisioning what she had to accomplish in her mind as well as body. Two in one.
“Dripping Springs.”
About a week later:
“Come, Daisy. Come into the future little bambino’s room. In the meantime…”
“Oh *Frank*. How *sweet*!”
She kissed him full on the lips, then stared over his shoulder at the armoire while hugging him, realizing it was different from before. It turned out to be a stupid armoire. With stupid animations. Smart. Not very smart. “I felt it was all I could afford,” he tried to defend himself after the switch was called out. “Do you know how much *yours* cost?” But he ended up getting it anyway. If not: no little bambino ever, boy with blue eyes, girl with green eyes, whatever.
00520104
Black hair saves the day, assault *foiled*.
The van remains empty of quality meat.
OMG. UTSL! Let’s see how I can do this…
“Yes I *will* marry you,” he said after she promised him the band.
00520105
“There he goes again out to her, Olaka.”
“I see her, ” he replied to his twin bro-sis Okama, on pink this time. They take turns. His was the Middle Ages.
“Might as well be tied to the mast of that small vessel, you know. Siren call.”
“Not Calypso but getting there,” Olaka said to close. Too close.
00520106
The island turned into a water vortex, as he knew it would. The goddess or siren or whatever rose out of it high into the sky. She looks toward the now glowing blue sphere above her instead of away like before; all her attention is focused on it while the waters from the whirling dervish keep her tethered to a world ocean. She cannot rise any higher. Yet, suspended as she is, she remains safe. For now. We keep the water going.
All I can do is watch from afar, not interfering, not even upon threat of global extinction. We are probably near the end times but who knows. Look at Prince and 1999 and the Y2K threat. Everyone thought it was the end *then*. But we — they — continued on. This time seems… different.
I must go back to the ship and tell the others of this new development.
00520107
Red yellow green at this 2nd Forest center. But why is blue hidden that we also understand is present from 01?
Again: Andie knows.
Spacecraft. tbc
00520108 (blue (beeep!))
…………………………………………………………………………ME: Hi! I now have some more to analyze on section 05 of photo-novel 51. Almost done! We’re going on a trip this morning so I might not be able to reply until tomorrow. We’re headed to Bandana, North Carolina (!), with Bandana in general an important subject for this section now. There are only two Bandana population places in the US, with the other in Kentucky, very near a strangely named village called Monkey’s Eyebrow. This naturally made me associate that Bandana with banana, the famous favorite food of apes. A place called Kona is right below Bandana NC and there we’ll visit the grave of Charlie Silver, noted for being the victim of axe murderer Frankie Silver who hailed from Burke County and who was the first white woman in the state hanged for her crimes. We have several other places earmarked for a visit, including Bakersville (our 2nd visit to that place in a month) and also Spruce Pine. SP has also been mentioned in photo-novel 51. And the area is very important now for my wife’s writing, with several of her characters having lived in Bakersville or thereabouts.
00520109 (inside out)
You don’t know how to do it Tony *Banana*. You have to serenade your woman of choice. I will win her heart for you to make you a match made in heaven this time, ready to party down like it’s the end of the world. Watch.
00520110
After the assault she disguised herself as a duck and also changed her hair color back to its original dirty blonde to more safely navigate the streets and alleyways of what we’ve decided to call Bandanaboro, always interesting but often threatening. Here she stands at the corner of Holy Hero and… well I can’t quite read the name on the other sign. 88/88/88 as well, the *2nd* triple number of the sim to add to the already discussed armoire at 77/77/77. Seems important. Seems worth chancing a disguise so you can penetrate deeper into the bowels of this on-the-surface foul place. More to be found here.
After exploring up and down both Holy Hero and the other one only to find more foul not fair, her attention finally returns to the 100 foot sand colored Body and its attached Head. Right over there behind her in the above photo. Should have taken the hint.
—–
“Okay pay attention up there,” she calls to the camera above her now, focus front and center. “I’m going in again.”
00520111
Completio. Yellow to red to blue to green to make our way back to yellow to both end and begin it all again. Waterfall stairs.
—–
“Tony. I- I feel like we don’t exist here any more, like the town has gone completely bananas. Like we’re fading into the same colored backdrop of our lives. Like — like we don’t exist here any more.”
She rolls over after no response from the other side of the bed. “Tony? Tony dear? Where’d you go?” Then she stares up from the inactive blue ball beside her at the big banana shaped pillow and starts to remember. They’re still in the jail cell. They never left.
“Tony!” she speaks to it, voice returned to default shouting mode. “I’m so sorry I did this to you!” *SOB*
00520112
Duck clad, duck protected Shelley stares through the triangle provided at the top of the ramp and recognizes the metallic pink car in the distance. It’s from the same stacked piles of old autos she and fellow Silver band member Okama Majo perched on top of about 15 posts back and contemplated the removal of the tip of the other sand edifice in town viewed in the distance, the male to complement the female — much like in Okama Majo’s body itself.
She then thinks she hears a single cry from below — human. Spooked at first, she rationalized that it must have been the effects of wind produced when she turned away from the car. Yes that had to be it, she solidifies in her mind, just like No Lag solidified a banana immediately below her in order to say *SORRY* once more.
Down the next ramp she goes. Into the heart of the thing. tbc
00520113
She sits down in a seat near the center and starts thinking about Okama; her old band Mosquitoes rebranded as Silver; the former members Don and… No Lag! She hadn’t interacted with the classically trained guitarist in maybe one full photo-novel, a long time down here as opposed to up there. 8 1/2 times longer our user Baker Bloch has determined in his wise guy ways. They were on stage together, she recalled. Then she turned toward the guitarist, let forth a brutal hook kick that booted her out of the band as symbolic united with literal. She hadn’t seen her since that day in late April’s May. And they’ve been rock’n ever since, Okama and her. “Beatles over Beethoven,” she shouted once or twice after the conversion, always thinking about that kick when she did. “One and done one and done!” she also cried that one time. Twice. In her mind, No Lag magically manifested on the couch over there, ready to discuss the situation anew.
00520114 (triplet form)
“Funny how I’m talking to you in my head… in the Body. Maybe I should have met you up top instead.” Smiling Shelley points to her own heart then moves her finger up to her own head. No Lag smiles back yet still remains quiet. “How’s your love life,” Shelley thinks to ask. Why not? This starts her up, gas suddenly in her tank.
“Tony B. is ggreat, a real tiger.” In bed, is the unspoken ending to that sentence. Like Kellogg’s cereal mascot minus the sex, another tiger.
“But… Tony is *my* boyfriend.”
“Dreamy isn’t it.”
Shelley had had enough of that imaginary conversation. She looks around the Body for other things of interest. No Lag vanishes into the background again, her lines done. Lions, tiger. Bear with me. tbc
00520115 (Future Cy)
Staring at the pink door at the bottom of the place, she thinks back to the night of her assault, wondering if she had had her present dirty blonde hair and protective duck duds and mannerisms the incident might have turned out differently. Because the black hair she had back then stifled the attack at first but only at the head. The brute ape of a man couldn’t see, hear, smell or taste. But he could still touch, the final sense he had remaining to go along with his senseless nogg’n. This attack didn’t make any sense except for 1, and that’s all he needed. At the peak moment he was distracted, she managed to break free and deliver back her patented hook kick that knock him out dead. But… the shame. How she did it she still didn’t know. All she knew was that she was able, in this one particular moment of singularity, to uncouple Ichelus from Orgamast and live to see another non catty-corner day in the month of late April’s May.
00520116 (afterwards)
Healing the mind and body with bathing blue and red ray treatments respectively, another reason to like this place.
