by Rob Reger
ME: Oh, right. Well, here’s the thing about that, see. She’s programmed only to respond to me.
G: Sorry? I don’t understand. You’re referring to her spy training, I suppose. Some kind of brainwashing, perhaps?
ME: Sure, whatever.
G: Well, I would appreciate it if you’d tell me how I can get her upstairs.
ME: Well, luckily for you, I inserted a special code word in her programming when I built her.
G: BUILT her? I’m sure you’re…Hmph. Is your mother there?
ME: Sorry, she’s really busy exfoliating right now.
G: Just tell me the word, young lady.
ME: “Jockstrap.”
G: The word is “jockstrap”? I say “jockstrap” and she’ll do as I ask?
ME: [Holding in the laughter. Holding it in, holding it in.] Oh…sorry, no, try “poopcake.”
G: “Poopcake.” Raven, please go upstairs. No, it’s not working.
ME: [Holding it in…barely…] Um, try “barfbag.”
[And so it went, through “Titicaca” and “codpiece,” to “Mulva” and “Dolores,” to “dissemination” and “kumquat,” until I completely lost it, and had to put the phone down for a few minutes while I caught my breath.]
ME: Sorry about that, I had a bit of a…coughing spasm. [Spasm!! Ahahhahhahhha!]
G: Let’s stop this nonsense right now. Either give me the word or put your mother on the line.
ME: Yes, ma’am! Seriously, the word is “Emily.”
G: Raven? “Emily!” Please go upstairs. All right, that worked. Now, good night to you, young lady.
ME: And good night to you, Gigi. Thanks for the laughs.
G: Hmph!!!
Later
Was very energized by belly-busting laughs at Gigi’s expense, and rallied OtherMe to help me tackle some projects. Am happy to report that we have just finished work on a small, but serviceable treehouse in one of the ginormous trees out back. It’s the eleventh treehouse I’ve (we’ve?) built, so I/we are pretty much treehouse experts by now, but this time it only took three hours, eleven minutes—three full hours faster than my/our record! We were both especially pleased at our success in completely camouflaging both the treehouse and the ladder up to it—there’s pretty much no chance of any stray neighborhood child accidentally seeing it from the ground. We equipped it with some basic booby traps just in case.
Later—another project down!
We have finished the sun-spigot! It is excellent! The solar panels collect sunlight all day. Then it gets condensed and stored in a tank in the bedroom. We’ve rigged up a hose and spray gun so that every night we can hose down the plants with super concentrated sunlight. We also made two totally sunproof suits so that we are not scorched by toxic sun. As much as we love and respect plants, it’s a mystery to us how they can stand that stuff. Anyway. What’s important is that we were able to bring all our bizarre, beautiful plants up to our room and now have a huge crazy garden up here. At last! Let the crossbreeding begin!
Later—incredibly productive night!
We have created cat collars with sonic dog-repelling devices on them. Am wearing mine around my ankle and roaming the neighborhood a bit, looking for dogs. Will report back in a bit.
Later
Back to the drawing board. The dog repeller also repels cats, squirrels, rats, birds, reptiles, and insects. All around me, in my peripheral vision, I can see animals running, flying, crawling, or squirming in terror to get away from me. Unacceptable. I am already feeling enough animal rejection at home!
Will keep it for sewer use, however.
Later
Am exhausted from super high productivity of the night. Am thrilled to have OtherMe here to make projects go so quickly. Am climbing into my hammock for some sleep.
Later—in the hammock
Just realized I forgot to tell OtherMe about my secret sewer. Let alone visit it. Oh well, she is already asleep. Maybe tomorrow.
Binary Larry better not have been up to any teen-style lameness down there, or he will PAY!!!!
June 11
Town Halls cased, 1; super elaborate Master Pranks conceived, 1
Man, I’m soooooooo into having an identical Me around. Tonight was pretty much the best night of my life, mainly because OtherMe and I spent several hours laying our plans for what is going to be a pretty stupendous prank on the town. Or is it even a prank? I think it’s more a work of art. It’ll take a few days to set up, but it’ll be sooooooooo worth it.
I was still feeling very gung ho on the whole “Duplicate Silifordville” idea, but OtherMe has come up with a far superior concept. She heard on the news that there’s going to be a ribbon-cutting ceremony at Town Hall next week—for what, she doesn’t know or care. What matters is that a big crowd of local people will be there, and that’s all the inspiration she needed.
We waited until Mom was fast asleep, then snuck out of the house together and spent a few hours exploring Town Hall and the adjacent grounds. Man, I should have checked out the place more closely before this! I would have immediately added it to my short (Very Short) list of Good Stuff in Silifordville.
Here are some of the wonderful things Town Hall had to offer us:
Large statues of anatomically correct naked folk.
A bench with a commemorative plaque reading: “IN LOVING MEMORY OF RITARDO N. O’BRANE, FOUNDER OF SILIFORDVILLE.”
Several achingly beautiful, pristinely white, longing-for-the-spray-can walls.
An outdoor exhibit of log cabins.
Playground populated by huge, colorful, plastic, easily unbolted barnyard animals.
A rooftop garden.
Indoor bird and rodent life.
Janitorial staff mostly under 20 years old and easily distracted from work responsibilities.
A supply closet and toolshed with locks a 2-month-old could crack.
Transom window leading to the storage room where they keep the uniforms. Uniforms!!!!
Large, antique, dusty, unused heating ducts that lead into every room.
A perfectly round library with a retracting roof.
An empty Olympic-sized swimming pool.
With all those possibilities, we had no choice but to discard them and do something completely original and self-sufficient. OK, well, actually we did use the heating ducts as passageways in our travels, which felt gloriously covert and spylike. And man, I loooooooooooove bumming around in the empty Town Hall at night with OtherMe! After thoroughly casing the joint, we took over the boardroom for a planning session.
SO. Here is OtherMe’s big plan: We’re going to create a wondrous Manifesto that will open people’s minds to the beauty of Strange, and then modify the town’s A/V equipment so it is capable of projecting our Manifesto directly into their brains. Then on the night of the ceremony, once the crowd has gathered, we’ll seal the doors and roll the Manifesto. Everything will be remotely controlled from the safety of our bedroom. Then we just sit back and watch the town of Silifordville get STRANGE!!!!!!
before: BORING
YESSSSSSSS! Here’s to OtherMe and her rascally diabolical plans!
OK—pretty great progress for one night. We are headed home.
after: STRANGE
Later
Am wondering about OtherMe. We were hanging out in the treehouse, and for a long time she was staring through the binoculars and laughing her cheeks off. I finally asked her what was so funny. She showed me where to look: Venus Fang Fang’s backyard, where her dogbeast, in obvious distress and agony, was throwing himself at the back door. A woman I assume was Venus Fang Fang herself would occasionally come to the window and stare out at him, looking bewildered.
ME: What’s so funny about that?
OTHERME: I threw my dog repeller into Venus Fang Fang’s yard.
ME: [Staring at her. Wondering if she had gone insane.] Why would you do that?
OM: [Staring at me. As if wondering if I were nuts.] Um, for fun?
Varking h
amdacks! Am now sitting outside Venus Fang Fang’s backyard preparing to reinstall the polythermal-shielded ceramic discs on her fence, climb over, and remove the dog repeller. Am somewhat surprised that I am willing to risk my personal safety for the comfort of the dogbeast, but his yelps of anguish are truly haunting. Cannot just sit around while an animal is being tormented.
Hope he sees me as his rescuer from suffering, and I come out of this with all my limbs!!!!
Later—hiding in some bushes
Am real grumpy. Was confronted by Venus Fang Fang. She is obviously not the person who built the supercool obstacle course in her backyard.
She has a sour temper, a peculiar accent, and a strong hatred for anyone caught on her property. Our conversation went a little bit like this:
Venus Fang Fang
VENUS FANG FANG: Chald! What are yao daoing in ma backyard?
ME: [Her accent grating horribly on my ears.] Ugh! What? Oh. Just…getting my cat collar. Be out of here in a flash.
VFF: And haow dad yao gat in haere?
ME: Climbed the fence.
VFF: [Shooting poison glance around perimeter of fence. Zeroing in on my polythermal-shielded ceramic discs. Stalking over to them and snatching them down.] Indaeed. Ah’ll be aover to spaeak with yaor mather in the marning.
Crabs! Am not pleased. OtherMe owes me big-time for this. Am heading underground for some peaceful art-style self-therapy. Am NOT bringing OtherMe. And Binary Larry had better go easy on the cheerful conversation. Am in no mood for it!!!!!
Later
Am hanging out in the lovely sewer, prepping a few north-and east-facing walls for a grand sewer mural. (Sewer Mural = great name for a band.)
Binary Larry got here shortly after I did, but I managed to snap a photo of his insanity/art before he arrived.
Later
Am feeling better. Art-style self-therapy is GOOOOOOOOOOOD!
Am heading home to bed.
June 12
neighbor altercations slept through, 1; mothers distressed, 1; doppelgängers paying for it, 0
Was just woken from a lovely nightmare about rolling around from one thundercloud to another, getting zapped with painful bolts of lightning, by Mom knocking at the door. OtherMe hid herself in the blankets as I went to answer it.
ME: Mornin’, Patti.
MOM: So, I hear you disarmed Mrs. Fang Fang’s alarm system and snuck into her yard?
ME: [Wishing I could just tell her, “IT WAS THE OTHER ME!!!”] Yep. But I was on legitimate business. Fetching a cat collar.
M: Couldn’t you have just knocked on her door and asked for help?
ME:….….….….….….….….….….……….….……………No.
M: [Sighing.] Well, if that’s how it is, you’ll have to deal with the consequences.
ME: What consequences?
M: Mrs. Fang Fang would like you to walk her dog, Viscer, once a day for the next week. And look, do me a favor, E. Don’t let me hear about any more trouble with THAT character. Her accent is brutal.
ME: Indaeed.
M: Seriously, she seems like the suing type. And…I don’t know…I’d just like for there to be ONE town on earth where the neighbors don’t fear and/ or loathe us. K?
ME: You got it.
M: [Handing me my polythermal-shielded ceramic discs.] [Sighing.] [Leaving in silence.]
Am going back to sleep. Hope I dream of a nice, efficient way to get some payback from OtherMe.
Later—nighttime at last
OtherMe woke me up at nightfall with some truly awful guitar playing. Was giving her the benefit of the doubt for the first five minutes or so, and pretending to myself that she was playing some like really advanced space-jazz-skronk-noodling, but as the moments passed, and her curses got more creative, I realized that she really can’t play the guitar.
Curious!
Am now feeling bad that I wrote such mean-spirited things about her. Still, SHE’S going to be walking that dog.
Later
OtherMe was surprisingly agreeable about walking Viscer and has just left to go over there. As a very mild payback, I told her nothing about Venus Fang Fang. Ahahhahhah. Dogwalking + Venus Fang Fang…should make for a hilariously aggravating session! Cannot wait to hear her report.
Also, as soon as she stepped out the door, I picked up the guitar to see if I had also somehow lost my skills, but a howling rendition of “Blood Gets in Your Eyes” has proven I am as virtuo-spastical as ever. Curiouser and curiouser!!!!!
Later
Have tinkered with the duplication device—3 minutes. Attempted an overhaul of the Oddisee’s memory backup devices—12 minutes. Started to reorganize music collection using an elaborate system of color-coding—6 minutes. I have serious attention deficit tonight. REALLY want to get out of the house, but Mom already saw OtherMe leave to walk the dogbeast…and I DID promise not to hurt her mind with evidence of our duplication…
Am sneaking out the window and heading down to the sewer.
Later
Gabfrax. Not so sure about Binary Larry right now. He was hanging out writing his epic code until around midnight. Have never met anyone so squirrelly. The one thing I cling to is that he is not nocturnal like me, though he thinks he is. In fact, we had the following discussion about it:
BINARY LARRY: Yeah, so, I been coming down here every night since that first night, it’s really great, I really can’t sleep at night, you know, there’s just too many thoughts. Are you like that too?
ME: What, manic-psychotic?
BL: Hahaha, no, man, I mean nocturnal!!!
ME: Oh. Yes.
BL: Man, do you ever wonder why there isn’t a word for the opposite of nocturnal? I mean, what would that even be, like, “un-nocturnal”? Wow!
ME: Um, there IS a word for that. It’s “diurnal.”
BL: Nooooooo…waaayyyy! What does that even mean?
ME: [Sighing.]
BL: Oh…right.
Anyway, he eventually rolled out when his true diurnal nature kicked in and he could not keep his eyes open. I should be able to avoid him most of the time, as long as I show up after midnight.
Documentation of my progress on the mural.
Later
OtherMe says she has nothing special to report about her dogwalking episode. That’s right. Nothing…Special…To…Report. Interesting. Anyway, we are heading over to Town Hall now for some quality work on our Manifesto prank. Will write more later.
Later
Shellac!!! Am in lots of pain right now! I bailed out on the skateboard, hard. No bones broken. Not much skin broken. Some bruising. Ego somewhat crushed. Feelings slightly hurt when OtherMe ran to pick up the skate before checking on me. When she saw my look, she was all like, “What, I knew YOU were OK.” But STILL, give a girl the courtesy of checking on HER first, before you pick up the SKATEBOARD, right????
Must shake it off. Visualize the lovely sewer mural. Imagine still, calm, beauteous pools of liquid black rock. Think of the magnificent Master Prank. Reflect on the eyes that will be opened, the souls that will be freed from their Chains of Normalcy by the glorious Manifesto of Strange!
OK, am feeling better.
Later
Lots of good progress tonight. Spent several hours down in the basement of Town Hall, in the isolated room where the footage for the public-access channel gets reviewed and edited. And we completely raided that lovely library of archival footage. We cobbled and spliced and voiced-over the footage, and then painted liquid black rock right onto the film, until we had the beginnings of a beautiful, moving, inspiring Manifesto of Strange.
You know how, when you see a horror movie featuring an Especially Strange Person, the protagonist (who is never the E.S.P.—an E.S.P. can only be an antagonist, according to the movies) must always discover some dark artifact from the E.S.P., some painting or film or scrawled notebook or wicked shrine of newspaper clippings, that hints at the extreme Depth and Horror of their Strangeness. Right? Except that
the dark artifact itself, in the horror movie, is never really very Deep or Horrific, and you kind of just have to accept that all the filmmakers could do was hint at the true Depth and Horror, or risk driving their audience to madness. Well—this Manifesto of Strange that OtherMe and I made is the REAL STUFF, MAN! No one, I mean no one, I don’t even care how normal they start out, will be able to resist it. This town is going to be soooooo strange in three days’ time. Cannot wait to see it.
(By the way, Dark Artifact = great name for a band.)
Before we left, we snuck from one conference room to another and started modifying the A/V equipment as we went, so that each projector or PA system will be able to work as a module that can be easily plugged into a central unit in the main auditorium to become an integrated, multilamp, multichannel, multispeaker, three-dimensional projector.
One more night of work on the Manifesto, and it’ll easily be the strangest work of art ever projected guerrilla-style into the minds of unsuspecting attendees at a ribbon-cutting ceremony in any small town, anywhere. Yesssssssss!!!!!!!
Later
OtherMe and I returned home, high on life and ready to take on the world, or at least some weird science, and now, just two hours later, we are sitting around in my our bedroom, using a complete and working cat translator!!!!!…Actually, all exclamation points aside, I should say that it’s kind of a letdown. I mean, I already know what the cats are saying, and it doesn’t sound as great in English. Cats are a lot like French people—for many reasons, one being that everything they say sounds much cooler in their language.