affame_le_geant_pulling_the_cord fyn gula under a fingernail moon, puppertwinkle, to say the least, was freaked out about tripod's malicious laughter. it cut through to the tender flesh of his soul like a clean razor, sharp as fuck. "that shit borders on insanity," he thought to himself. he wasn't sure how to respond to it exactly. he hoped it had to do with what would happen when he actually pulled the cord, but he feared another reason altogether which had to do with himself and the defamation of his character. as if his "qualifications" were a fucking joke. and the latter assumption was correct, yet tripod never actually got real with him. she played with his mind as if it was a mouse. she hears a roar when others hear only a squeak. tripod revealed a capacity to shock, to startle the lifelessness out of puppertwinkle's slumber. and it was for this that he was grateful and though he never did so to her face, he congratulated her inside his thinking. the tragedy of his world was that nothing any longer was capable of rousing him from his lethargy. no more violent dreams, no refreshment, no awakening. in the anaesthesia produced by self-knwledge, his life was passing, his art was passing, slipping from him. he was drifting with time and his fight was with shadows. he was a bewildered, poverty-stricken individual who haunted the bianca strada like a ghost at a banquet. he needed a blood transfusion. he needed to almost drown. he needed his life saved because now he knew how valuable it was. tripod was still rolling on the ground in her uncontrollable fit of madness, when puppertwinkle grabbed the rubber ring of the cord and pulled. "what the hell?" he thought. "i have nothing to lose. she has already whittled me down to nothing." the first thing he noticed as the elastic cord reached the end of its length and began a creeping recoil was that tripod seemed to be more machine than ever. she sat up like some invisible hands were snapping her into place. lego or playmobil. she was now rigid and unmoving as if her crank had run out. puppertwinkle would find out later that it did run down the moment he pulled the cord, for this action transformed her into something different. abrupt surprises can be awesome. a sound followed, much like the electronic whir of a computer starting up. puppertwinkle watched, startled, as tripod's eyeballs slowly rotated 36o degrees in their sockets and were replaced by the lenses of what appeared to be a film projector of some sort. seconds later, bright light made an instant screen of the wooden cart house, but it wasn't a film that was being shown. it turned out to reveal an unmistakeable three dimensional apparition. a hologram. it had been several years since he had seen him, but puppertwinkle had no problem recognizing boffden the beardless gnome. he was holding a human baby that was in his arms asleep. it had copious amounts of flaming red hair and if she woke she would smile at him because he had a way with children of all ages. the flaming lips was playing softly in the background. music from "yoshimi battles the pink robots." and then boffden spoke. 021107 what's it to you? who go blather from