Lazar & Jingles with Bunson in: Showers of Sorrow

By Kendrick Sims

From mirrors in strange places to stars ceasing to shine, friendships rekindle by fire’s light. Elsewhere, in a forgotten realm separated by a dream, a monster builds a tribute to himself. Prisoners are held, gifts are exchanged, and a kiss is a demon’s touch.

The clock ticks toward twelve, but will it be morning or evening next? That question is not so easy to answer. Not for Bunson Bear nor for his new traveling companion. Elsewhere, flames of fire burn hot as a strangely aloof Lazar Lion presents his blue rose to a captive audience. Not to be outdone by a former friend and comrade in arms, Jingles presents his new toy to a friend not so near but very dear, so long as Jingles’s new boss doesn’t find out.

Strange new friends join stranger old ones as Lazar, Jingles, and Bunson battle the pandemic that is the Shadow Tree. Joined in the fight against Captain M.T. and his monstrous marvels are Sylvester Alexander Koala, Abner Pennster, Sgt. Jack Thompson, Sgt. Joseph Smith, Sgt. Martin Stephens, and a host of Waterford’s best (and worst) citizens.

Their ultimate goal? Dethrone Captain M.T. as would-be world ruler and send him and the curse of the Shadow Trees to hell once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662455971

Book preview

Chapter 1

∞

The time of learning is at hand.

Sit a spell with the haunted man.

Youth shall be a time to play.

Listen closely to what they say.

Downriver, Michigan

March 23, 20X9

9:09 a.m., DST

The red brick building

The element of surprise is virtually an unknown factor in the life of Midge Koala. To be certain, her life has been one rainy Sunday after another. It is, unfortunately, a life virtually indistinguishable from others lived under the roof of the red brick building. It is under this collection of bricks that a twinkling twilight beams its brightness upon broken walls. A finite star shines an infinite halo around poverty and want. The rains come, the halls are washed, and then a rose’s petals are closed until the beams dance again. There are no surprises, just a glimmer of hope that makes misery a little more tolerable as the walls close in.

Then illness struck. For one apartment, it seemed as if the star were not present any longer. Friends became strangers or, worse, enemies. Midge found herself alone in a sea of hate-filled glares and innuendo. Bobbing up and down as she tried to keep herself and her son afloat, she could only keep herself above the crashing waves of malice and cruelty thanks to a friend, a policeman. A man now missing. Without the shelter of a family friend to hold back the fanning flames of hate, surprise finally unmasked itself upon the life of Midge Koala. Her string of hollow days and tearful nights finally snapped with the shocking knock on an apartment door. The breaking of yesterday’s dawn came as Midge Koala’s former husband stood outside her door, and Midge Koala’s life force, usually so strong and vital, was closed before her eyes.

Outside apartment 3A, Midge Koala has fainted. Her one-time husband, one Mark Koala, sits on the floor outside the little abode, holding her in his arms. As is fitting his nonexistent profession, he is dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. Mark Koala sits still and motionless, holding his ex-wife as she struggles to find her way back into the world she usually wants to escape from. It is only with an intense inner struggle that Midge Koala slowly, ever so slowly emerges from the inner darkness that has enraptured her being. Consciousness tenderly reclaims her beleaguered and weary soul as her eyes break the dawn and capture the neon sun that is the hallway’s lighting. Peering through bleary contact lenses, Midge attempts to lift herself away from the hold of her one-time husband. It is an attempt made in vain.

Her arms without strength, her legs equally not up to the task of supporting her, Midge’s attempt to balance herself on wobbly feet only land her further into the embrace of her ex-husband. Mark, meanwhile, laughs softly under his breath. You didn’t pass out the last time I asked you to marry me!

A second attempt is immediately made, this time on more solid footing. Midge steadies herself by grabbing at the hallway wall with both paws, all the while shoving herself off the ground with her feet. Midge’s desire to escape the clutch of her ex-husband, helped along with the nature of gravity, lands Midge solidly, if feebly, against the wall of her apartment complex’s hallway. It is an acquaintanceship she never had intended to make before, but one she is all too grateful for now. With the present horror past, Midge attempts to step fully back into the world of the moment.

Midge wipes the back of her furry paw against her forehead. The sweat that was there moments prior is now gone. Midge turns her head and stares down her former husband with eyes of daggers. That was entirely different, and you know it! Midge’s words exit with the disgust of wasted spittle. What do you mean coming here and asking me to marry you? Have you lost your mind?! You’ve just been told you’re going to die! Has that fact sunk into that puny thing called a brain that most normal people possess? Or have you blasted so many joints that your brain has finally shriveled up and died? Mark Joseph Koala?

A laugh emanates from Mark that is peculiar to the moment. It is a cackle only he can appreciate, or perhaps he is laughing at himself. Whatever is the cause of the giggle, Midge does not know. All she does know is that it is a laugh she has not heard before. Not from her husband. Not from any adult. It is the laugh of a child, one with a secret. This is the thought that is repeating through Midge’s mind as Mark ceases to chuckle and he begins to say, Yeah, yeah, it’s sunk in. With blackness everywhere, death is something I think about a lot these days. More than you realize, Midge.

With both paws on her hips and a scowl across her face, Midge looks the quintessential belle in a yellow sundress with white stripes running down the sides. Addressing Mark more than speaking to him, Midge treats him more like a children than an adult. A definite carryover from their married life. Well? Then what about all this? You just want us to pick up where we left off? Like nothing ever happened? One moment a great big estranged family. A few years pass, a death sentence is handed down, and then the family that prays together, stays together? Here today, gone tomorrow? One big family with matching tombstones?

The jovial smile that was across Mark’s lips quickly departs as he rises to meet his ex-wife eye to eye. That’s not funny, Midge.

Midge drops her arms to her side. I know. She waves off her snide retort with her paw. "I’m sorry. I… I just wasn’t thinking. I just, well, I wanted you to realize that this isn’t a joke, Mark. You can’t laugh about this. You can’t laugh it off like you do everything else in life. This isn’t something that’s going to go away if you ignore it long enough. If you ignore it, sooner or later, we’re going to go away. All three of us, we’re all dying. We can’t sugarcoat it. Not like everything else we used to. You used too…"

Nodding is Mark’s response in acknowledgment to all his past misdeeds, followed by a shrug in agreement. I know that I made a lot of mistakes in the past. My biggest was taking you and Sylvester for granted. Like the two of you would always be there no matter what I did, and I did a lot. To you. In front of him. You both deserved someone better. A husband. A father. Neither of you got either of those things. Truth be told, I never got the whole husband-and-father thing. I always figured that no matter how I screwed up, whenever I got out of jail, I always figured, like, you would always be waiting for me when I got out. Then one day, you weren’t. I came home to an empty apartment. That was a huge blow for me. It hasn’t been easy for me to accept that change. I always thought the three of us would be together. Then it was just me. All for one and one for me. When that person is me, it’s a whole lot of nothing.

Tears begin to stream from Midge’s eyes as she searches for words and knows that she has them. She’s had them for a long time. Now she doesn’t know if she wants to use them. Mark, I’m sorry.

Mark shines a half smile back at his ex-wife. Midge continues. I never meant to hurt you. When I walked out, when I took Sylvester with me, it wasn’t to hurt you. It was to protect Sylvester and me from where our family was heading. If we’d stayed, I just knew that something bad was going to happen. You know it, and so do I. I didn’t want Sylvester to have to live with that for the rest of his life. I had to get away before that happened.

Mark, still radiating a half smile, simply nods.

Midge neither smiles nor frowns as she finishes. I just couldn’t go on letting him see all that you were doing anymore. All that you were bringing into our lives. I had to try to make a better life for him, for us. Even if it meant sleeping on a park bench for a few nights. Or in shelters for a whole lot more. It was better than the alternative.

Shrugging while nodding, a tear falls from Mark’s right eye. I can see that it was me who made our life that bad now. Who made your life and Sylvester’s life that bad when you left. I know it. I see it, and I admit it. Only that was a long time ago now. Things have changed. Finding out I don’t have a lot of time left, that changes a person’s outlook real quick.

What about Eve? Midge struggles to say. The sound of bile rising in her throat muddles the words.

Choking up as he tries to answer, Mark can barely get out the word he wants to say. For the first time since his arrival, he turns his eyes away from Midge as he says, Dead.

Stunned into silence, Midge’s eyes give her response. Mark attempts to continue on as best he is able, the memory of events still being more than fresh in his mind. The Trees, Midge. The Shadow Trees.

Midge lowers her head in response, her silence acknowledging the truth given in Mark’s words.

Mark continues. "Whatever those damned trees are doing to everyone here in Waterford, they got into Eve’s head in Flint. It happened really quick too. Looking back, maybe I should have seen it coming. That she wasn’t herself. That maybe I shouldn’t have told her when I did. With the trees, I don’t really know a whole lot about etiquette. Not like I know about it when things are normal. The trees, though, they change things so much. I told Eve about the illness, though. The test. The result. How I got it. How…we got it."

Midge closes her eyes and places her forehead against the hallway wall. Oh, Mark! She got it too?

Mark closes his eyes in an attempt to hide from the memory, one that up until now he seems to have been able to outrun. At first, I thought she was going to take it okay. The effect of the trees, she’d been quiet but not depressed. Watchin’ a lot of TV but not lockin’ herself in the bathroom, ya know?

Midge nods.

Mark continues. "I told her what we had. What it meant. That she had to go and get tested, but that—that she might not have caught it. The chances were good that she was just fine. Then Eve looked at me in silence. She didn’t even make a single sound. No words. No cough. No crying. Just kind of stared at me. Looking back now, I guess she was staring through me, shocked into fear and disbelief. A deer-in-the-headlights kinda look, ya know?"

Midge nods ever so slightly, her forehead lightly tapping the hallway wall. Tap. Tap. Tap. When the doctor told me, they had to sedate me. Yeah, I know the look.

Mark goes on. "She had to get tested. Had to get tested. I told her that there was still hope that she didn’t have it. There was still a good chance. Still a good chance. She had to have hope. That there was still hope that she’d be fine! I told her that! I swear!"

Her voice as low as it ever has been, Midge speaks from a place named oblivion. A realm seldom occupied within the reaches of the mind. Go on, Mark. Finish your story.

Mark’s legs begin to wobble. He steadies himself by leaning against the same wall Midge uses for support. Midge, there are moments in life where I wonder about fate. Just how cruel it is to us. You know how these trees have been in Waterford for a while now? Everyone—well, almost everyone has gone some kind of crazy up there. A lot of bad things have gone down in that town. People have turned evil, depressed, or just plain crazy. The least of the changes are the people who have just become really, really sad. Everyone there who has been affected, no matter what else, they are just so sad that they can’t do anything on their own anymore. The streets are all but deserted. It’s just our own circle of friends that seems to be immune. Sylvester and his friends and the police. There’s something about those kids—

Eve, Mark, Midge says sternly.

Sensing the serious tone in his ex-wife’s voice, Mark does not stray any further. Well, Eve, she wasn’t as immune as you or I. I don’t know how come. She’d been feeling the effects of the Shadow Trees. Not as bad as the neighbors, but she was…

Midge’s eyes look up through her tears. She finishes Mark’s sentence for him. Cutting herself again. I’ve seen the marks on her arms before. That’s why I never wanted Sylvester around her. He’s too young to be exposed to that kind of thing. We’ve had this discussion. Just…finish it, Mark. Finish the story.

Mark nods. I thought she could take the news, especially knowing that there was a chance she’d be okay. If anyone knew that, Eve could. She’d been in nursing school.

Before flunking out, Midge scolds her ex-husband. After she met you.

In an attempt to ignore the comment, Mark raises his voice a few notches. "After I told her about my—our condition, I found out how wrong I was about her state of mind. Midge, as if she were possessed by the devil himself, so help me, Midge, Eve stood up as rigid and purposeful as could be! Never once turning her head to look at anything—not me, not anything in the place. She walked straight to the front door. Her eyes were all glassy and glazed over, so I’m not sure she was even seeing what was past the end of her nose. I guess I’ll never know. When she reached the door, she opened it gently and walked outside. She closed the door behind her, still not turning her head to look behind herself. That was the last time I saw her alive. A minute later, I heard and felt a rumbling that shook the whole motel. I ran outside as fast as any human could, and there Eve was. Dead. A bus had run into her."

Half her face half-covered in tears, the other half covered with her right paw, Midge tries to wipe her face dry. Midge looks Mark head-on. With but a word, Midge conveys much more than is asked: How?

Mark turns around and slaps all his weight against the wall with his back. He then slides down and plops on the floor, his knees remaining propped up. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Mark curls up into a fetal position. I don’t know, Midge. I honestly don’t know. I got out there maybe five seconds after I heard the crash. I saw the bus smashed up into the motel wall. I saw Eve in front of the bus. Or…what was left of her above the chest. That’s all I saw.

Her eyes as wide as saucers, tears still pouring out of them, Midge studies her husband in disbelief. What do you mean that’s all you saw? What kind of fool statement is that?

Mark rests his forehead on his knees. Do I look drunk to you, Midge?

Midge shakes her head. Of course not.

Mark, his eyes looking downward, ever so careful not to make eye contact with his ex-wife for fear of his tears showing too much, tries to block out the vision of a dead past. Do I look high?

Midge, anxious for the end of the story, she tries to get her husband to spit it out. Mark! Please! What did you see?

An instant later, the essence of fear overcomes great pain, and Mark looks up at the koala who was his wife. There was no driver, Midge. There was nobody driving that bus.

Midge takes a step backward. That’s…not possible!

Mark vacantly looks ahead of himself. His eyes see the wall before himself and her who lay dead on it. His spirit seeing a not-too-distant past, Mark recounts the vision only he can see. I can still see it, Midge. In my dreams. In my nightmares. There was no time for anyone to leave that accident. What with things being as they are in Waterford, who would have even been driving a vehicle? Much less a bus! One of our friends? They wouldn’t have left the scene of an accident. Even so, in a couple of seconds, how could they have? There was nobody driving that bus, Midge!

Midge wipes the tears from her face. You didn’t…didn’t see anything or anyone?

As his ex-wife has done, so does he. Mark wipes the tears from his face with the back of his paw. When I first stepped outside, I thought I saw the black form of a shadow out of the corner of my eye. It was weird. It was dressed all in clothes from centuries ago. It was only a glimpse, and then it was gone. I must have been hallucinating or something. Even if I was, I swear, Midge! I wasn’t stoned, and I wasn’t drunk!

Midge sniffles a little and tries to regain her composure. No, I don’t think you were. You also wouldn’t lie about something like this. Do you think Eve walked in front of the bus? To take her own life?

Mark lifts himself off the floor and dusts himself off. Well, the bus didn’t appear just to run her over, but how did Eve know the bus was out there? I didn’t hear it coming. How could she have? Where’s the driver, Midge? Where’s the driver of that bus? I honestly don’t know what to think about Eve’s death. It just doesn’t make any sense.

A sound breaks the tenseness of the moment. From a few feet away from Mark and even less from Midge comes the sound of a doorknob turning, a lock letting loose and old hinges turning. Midge Koala’s lungs burst in one giant exhale as fear and anxiety take hold. For within the doorframe of apartment 3A stands Sylvester Alexander Koala. He is dressed in tan shorts, brown suspenders, a bright white T-shirt, and sneakers. Sylvester holds his wooden yo-yo in paw. Unannounced, an impromptu family reunion. The son standing and staring up at his old man courtesy of a singular gift of a cruel fate.

Sylvester, Mark says with a smile on his face. It’s…been a while.

Sylvester places the string from his yo-yo around his ring finger.

This isn’t a good idea, Mark! Midge cries, abject terror clearly evident in her cracking voice. Sylvester hasn’t seen you for a long time. He should have been better prepared before, before anything like this happened.

Nonsense! Mark states as he waves Midge off with his right paw. Fathers and sons have a bond. He’s glad to see me! Aren’t you, boy?

Sylvester drops the yo-yo to the floor. There the yo-yo spins about repeatedly, minus viewership of the eyes present.

What’s he doing, Midge? Mark asks with a bit of caution displayed within his voice. Why doesn’t he answer me?

Midge shakes her head as she walks over to her son. That’s what I was trying to warn you about, you idiot! Now standing behind Sylvester and directly in front of Mark, Midge addresses her ex-husband boldly and to the point. Maybe it’s best that you leave now. Call me tonight, and we’ll talk some more.

Speaking for the first time since seeing his father, Sylvester expresses no emotion. Nor does he look directly into his father’s eyes. He looks past Mark Koala toward something, or someone, behind the elder koala. An entity or object seen only by Sylvester. Yes. It is time for you to go back to school. With that utterance, Sylvester gently lifts his paw, and the spinning yo-yo ascends its string.

Before the eyes of Sylvester and Midge Koala, a tiny miracle occurs within the red brick building. At 9:15 a.m., Mark Joseph Koala vanishes into thin air. It is as if the ex-husband, father, and morning intruder had never even existed, or perhaps he’d only been part of a little boy’s dream.

Back…to…school, Sylvester says to himself, as he turns around and heads back into his apartment, his course leading him to his bedroom.

Her mouth hanging open and standing in total horror, Midge is a koala on the verge of a breakdown. Midge stands still and mute, staring into the empty space that was her ex-husband. Midge looks left, then right, then behind herself. Mark Koala is no more.

Within the sparseness of time available to her, Midge hurriedly recaptures what she can of her senses. Within the tick of a second’s passing, Midge runs back into her apartment and stands in front of her son. Sylvester, still looking withdrawn and vacant, stares blindly ahead.

Sylvester! Wake up! Midge cries desperately.

Sylvester blinks once, then twice. He then looks at his mother as the dawn of consciousness reawakens across his brow. What? What happened? Sylvester asks quizzically.

Midge stares at her son in confusion and disbelief. Sylvester? Where is Mark? Where is your father?

Sylvester shakes his head, then shrugs. With a look of confusion equaled to his mother’s, Sylvester swiftly walks toward his bedroom. Before disappearing behind the privacy of his closed bedroom door, Sylvester looks at his mother and utters three words. Quietly but honestly, he says, I don’t know.

Chapter 2

"Two for one!" the salesman yells.

A third is hot within his shell.

Guides come in all shapes and forms.

Don’t forget there’s two when born.

Planet Sepia

Substation of Sepia Town 039

Presently under construction

A sepia-tinted giraffe gloats while he adamantly postures toward an admiring crowd numbering none. Around the giraffe, sepia-tinted workmen unceasingly labor toward completing a misguided alien’s nightmare. They relentlessly hammer away at titanium plates, fashioning an unholy vision into a ghoulish reality.

In the midst of this orderly chaos stands a newly tinted recent arrival. He is a sepia-stained bear who ponders his current position and its limited possibilities. Behind a mass of stainless steel sheeting stands Bunson Bear. Friend, foe, and kinsman to the currently jovial and jabbering Jingles, he keenly watches his cousin speak to none in particular yet at the same time to all the workmen who labor nearby. Listening intently, Bunson finds Jingles’s oration to be a speech of vital insignificance. For it is a speech given from that space where a soul usually resides.

Speaking quietly to himself, Bunson shakes his head in bitter disillusionment at the downfall of one he still calls friend. Yassah. Dat cousin o’ mine has don’ lost his marbles completely. Dey dun rolled unda a fridge. One dat is cemented to da floor. I’s dunno if der is a way ta retrieve dem!

His mouth hanging open, Bunson shakes his head slowly. Was come ova dat giraffe? Dat alien musta brainwashed him wif electroshock treatments o’ sumfin. Jingles, he’s one light bulb short of a pack, and all da ones dat is der has all burnt out!

Bunson’s shirt, formerly orange and yellow, and his pants, formerly bright red, are all now tinted with a sepia tone. His accoutrements stand out in the sepia landscape like a sore thumb. Crouching down so as not to attract the attention of Jingles or his drones, Bunson attempts to see what may be seen from the confines of his hiding spot. Deliberately and delicately, he slowly raises his head for a glimpse of the technological tomb that is the newly constructed home base of Captain MT. Was is dis place, anyway? Bunson asks himself. I’s go from a swim in da country to, to terrifying tribute to Aldous Huxley.

Bunson inhales as he takes in the sights he can see, then lets out a very soft whistle. With the delicacy of a savage, Bunson whispers, O, brave new world.

With his head stuck out like a turkey ready to be axed, Bunson knows he dare not peek too far lest he suffer the same fate as a Thanksgiving dinner. Still, he sees enough to give him cause for increasing concern. Nothin’ but shiny metal from one end of dis steel gymnasium to da next. Wif Jingles standin’ on a raised podium in da middle. All da earmarks of pride, if ya ask me. As da old sayin’ goes, pride goeth befo’ a fall. Based on what I’s see, Jingles is ripe to take a tumble. A large one at dat.

Bunson shakes his head as he tries to make some sense of his surroundings. Look’s like dey is tryin’ ta construct some kind of screen in front of my cousin’. I’s gonna have a time of it here. Der is nowhere for me to go until all deese jacked-up workmen go to lunch, or go home, or go to wherever it is dey go when dey is done workin’. I’s neva seen people dis big in my life. Dey is at least eight feet tall if dey is an inch, and der muscles, scary. Dey all musta been rejects from da rasslin’ ring and ended up here. Seriously! If da captain has read Huxley, I’s is a dead bear. Or at least a stuck one. If dis place is based on Huxley, den deese guys is jus as happy as a bee doin’ a drone’s work. Der ain’t nothin’ dat will stop ’em from finishin’ except when da shift bell rings. Whenever dat is. Could be minutes. Could be hours. Guys dis big, it could be days! I’s jus’ stuck. Wheneva dey do finish, when shift end rings, I’s don’t want no hugs. I’s don’t want no pills. I’s just want a clear line to dat dumb giraffe and a few minutes alone. I’s come here for a purpose, and ain’t nuffin’ gonna derail me from getting’ da job done!

Unbeknownst to the kibitzing bear, fate is calling his bluff. Above and behind Bunson, a brightly lit twinkle births itself into existence and shines triumphantly over the head of the preoccupied bear. Small but distinct, it is reminiscent of a seldom-seen event both tender and destructive. A precious moment in time the universe hides but to the eyes of the immortal: the birth of a star. The first moment where elements meet, fuse, and explode and a star’s essence is created from a gaseous nebula.

As Bunson ponders the possibilities regarding his cousin and the army of oversized oafs, a half second moves into eternities past, and the starlike object above Bunson fades from its initial elemental burst and settles into a sepia-tinted blue ball of energy. Stationary but stagnant, the boisterous ball of energy fades away quickly but not without purpose. Indeed, it leaves behind a most marvelous and untinted mischievous misfit.

Where light was born, a smile thrives. Alive, its wearer most certainly is. It is just as sentient as Captain MT, and demands just as much attention. Its form is that of a human’s blue sock, starched and levitating in the air. The Blue Sock has many human attributes, both seen and unseen, and it is just as intelligent as a certain giraffe speaking across the room.

Physically the Blue Sock bears only a passing resemblance to that of man. The Blue Sock levitates in what might be considered a state of nudity, for it does not have arms nor legs; thus, it does not need to wear any clothes. The one exception would be the pair of large horn-rimmed spectacles it uses to see with. Underneath those glasses lie large white eyes and two tiny black pupils. The glasses rest on what must be an invisible nose, for what is seen are but two tiny black slits and nothing more. The sock’s voice is one of irritation. For when it chooses to speak, it produces an incredibly annoying and high-pitched squeal. The source of its audio agony comes from a little black hole directly below its all-but-invisible nose. Bunson Bear, oblivious to the arrival of the Blue Sock, is made aware of its intrusion into his life through the sock’s incredibly irritating salutation.

I’s kinna help wiffa zat! Iffa’s u’sa really wanna help, dat is!

Sensing the change in circumstance, Bunson Bear swiftly turns his entire frame around. Seeing what floats above himself, Bunson brings his paw up to his forehead and closes his eyes. Pinching his eyes in a manner indicating intense pain, Bunson slowly and cautiously opens his eyes to face the new interdimensional traveler who has unexpectedly and quite forcibly entered his life.

The unexpected intruder continues its self-introduction. I’s misplaced mee coupons! I’s need dem to git back home! Would you’sa please be a good little laddie anda helpa me find me’s coupons?

Bunson closes his eyes and shakes his head vigorously. It is an act of desperation and of self-preservation. Something he ate, Bunson thinks to himself. Too much exposure to aliens and magical beings, perhaps. Slapping his cheeks, Bunson hopes the shock of the pain might take away the instability of the moment. Not to mention the being floating about in front of him.

Whatever it is, Bunson hopes that with the raising of his eyelids the strange sight will now be gone. Bunson quickly opens one eye. Oh no! cries the bear. Whateva you’s is, you’s is still here!

The discombobulated Blue Sock reacts with a wee bit of disdain. Indeed, anda I’s shouldn’t be why? It’s a free real a tee, it is! I’s saw you’s alone, ’n I’sa thought you’s might be willin’ ta help a strange arrrr here! If I’s wrong, I’s be glad ta movin’ on up a level a bit! I’s is!

Bunson shakes his head once again, only this time in friendly way. Slowly, left to right, and back and forth. Na sah, nah! It’s jus dat I’s jus got here too, ’n I’s not really sure where here is myself! To arrive here ’n find myself talkin’ to a float’in blue sock, I’s jus was kinda surprised, dat’s all. We’s don’t have anytin’ like you’s, where’s I’s come from.

Indeed, is it? says the Blue Sock in awe. What da you’s all put on yer feet, do they?

Bunson chokes back a laugh, hoping nobody heard him. Taking a quick peek at the workers as well as his cousin, Bunson sees all as it was a few moments before. Eyeing the Blue Sock still floating about before him, Bunson responds. Well, sah, you’s got me der. It’s jus dat where I’s come from, people don’t talk to der socks. Bunson gulps as memories regarding the unfortunate existence of the Castle come to mind. Well, sah, I’s guess some people do. Bunson chokes back a half laugh. Only der socks don’t talk back to dem, or at least if dey do, those people usually don’t stay on da outside of padded walls for very long. Dey end up in the Castle.

With its big round white eyes shining through its glasses and its little nonexistent nose breathing out heavily, the Blue Sock uses all its facial features to register surprise. Indeed you say! Should dose peeps able be ta talk ta da likes a me?

Bunson nods. Sure, I’s guess dey wouldn’t be a bit surprised ta see someone like you. Those in the Castle, dey probably seen…well, lots of other things like you from time to time. Especially now dat da doctor’s ain’t given out meds no more.

Nodding his—or her—entire body in approval, the floating Blue Sock seems satisfied with Bunson’s response. Then deese people mighta be’n in a will of da way ta help me get at me soap coupons!

Again with the coupons! What’s with these coupons? I’s mean, what’s so special about dem? Bunson states with lackluster curiosity displayed across his face.

Sadly and with no joy showing in the Blue Sock’s voice, an answer is given. I’s use ’em ta get washed out. Wif out ’em, I’s neva kin git clean. After all, how’s long kin someone go wifout a baff? So I’s lined ’um to da bird. I’s a hopin’s nobody would eva find dem der ina his home. Da safest place insa all da reals, ’cause nobody eva went in der. ’Cept da bird, ta sleep.

Bunson nods, not understanding anything the Blue Sock is telling him. Okay, so what, da bird ate the coupons? Or went number 1 or number 2 on dem and someone else threw dem out when the cage was cleaned?

Shaking its entire body with frustration, the