Written 25 June, 2008
A Three-Donut Vacation
XI. Shoes to Match
“I have JUST the shoes,” I said. I produced my very first Second Life shoes, a blingtardy pair of colorable strappy sandals. I consulted my Mystitool to find the color numbers and tinted the straps.
“Good enough,” I pronounced.
“Marginal,” said Tozh, wrinkling her nose. “Hardly platinum quality. And to tell the truth, not even gold. Maybe not even silver. And of course the bling has to go.”
“/1 bling off,” I said.
“Not good enough,” declared Tozh. “Kill the script.” I did.
I looked at Sweetie. She was shaking her head.
“No go?” I asked.
“Put those things on the ground,” she said, “and back carefully away.” I did as instructed. They disappeared.
“I’ve hated those things since day one,” declared Sweetie. “Guess where they are now.”
“Your trash?” I ventured.
“And I’m about to empty my trash.”
“You’re kidding!” I said. “You’ve not emptied your trash since…”
“I’ve NEVER emptied my trash,” announced Sweetie. “There are things in there from Orientation Island. Not to mention a huge number of objects named Object. But here goes.”
I swallowed hard and took my medicine.
“That’s it,” said Sweetie. “Ugly shoes are gone. Now it’s time for us to go. Thank you so much, Tozh. Now forget you know us.”
“No, don’t do that,” I said. “PRETEND you don’t know us. If you don’t hear from us by Saturday, send a basket of fruit to us at GITMO and tell our lawyer to sell Whimsy and use the proceeds for our defense.”
“You forget,” said Sweetie. “Under the new rules, we won’t get a defense.”
“Well, then,” I said. “have a big party in our honor.”
“Viva la revolution!” said Sweetie.
And we were away.