The King Is Back
Yes folks it is true. The words of Hippy Flip will once again grace these pages. It feels like years since I vacated my throne. I fled amidst the politics and power struggles, fearing the knife piercing my back – or the bullet stirring my brain as it ricochets around my skull. I left my people without their voice but merely weeks after they had found it again. But I am here to tell you that I am back, I am safe and the dream lives on. Freedom will be ours.
Before I preach on about liberty and righteousness, let me tell you about a story that starts with Liberty and ends with Righteousness. Scroll down a few entries. Five in total; six with mine. You will find a beautiful poem entitled ‘Liberty’s Bell’ by the worldly, wordy woman who goes by the name of Liberty. This fine lady is a member of The Strays and she was kind enough to tell us how to get a hold of the password to BullCit. Actually I think her exact words were, “Fuck off, Flip, you know I can’t tell you that shit.”
Of course it wouldn’t be in the spirit of what this blog has evolved into to allow a gang of misfits try to manipulate their way into power. But this gang had just the right mix of everything to achieve.
- A quick intro to help avoid the character set up scenes to justify the later developments, we had Davie: the old guy, ball breaking cop with a juicy conspiracy theorist centre; Forest: idiot and fall guy; Flip: all round awesome, multi talented wunderboy!-
So back to Liberty. She was playing hard ball. But if there is one thing we know about the ladies of the free love breed it’s that they love a bit of a bang. And while the younger ones go out in search of their replacement daddy, the older lasses like to go find the child they never had. Unfortunately for Davie (or fortunately I dare say) Libs is his side of- I don’t know, forty or fifty. So we had to take the son angle. In stepped Forest, into that shoddy tent pitched in the nearby car park, and out he stepped with a brand new STD! Sadly Libs was able to keep lips tight (at least the top lips, anyway).
So we were already boned it seemed. But the next morning I got a knock on the van and Jason Effries is at the door. Turns out Jason is Liberty’s lover and wants to find out who’s been cutting his grass. It also turns out that Big Jay was the one and only entrusted with the BullCit Baton scripting the rather clunky short story about a jock who becomes a hippy or some shit like that. I didn’t finish it ( I barely got past the title ‘Jay is for Jock’). So I ask him if he is willing to reveal the name of his successor. He says he is willing to make a trade.
So we head west in search of Dana Hinchcliffe, estranged daughter of Big Jay who Liberty has no knowledge of. This young teen was entrusted by her father to carry on the legacy via an email correspondence. Flip is driving with Davie riding shotgun. Forest is in the back seat giving nothing but dirty looks at me in the rear view (though the fact that his right eye was swollen and purple and his left eye full of tears from what I can only assume as a severe itch in the nether regions meant that his death stares were rather ineffective and comical – good entertainment considering the radio had died).
Dana is the apple that fell from the tree and seemed to hitchhike the fuck away from there, both figuratively and geographically. Some four hours in the van brought us to her doorstep and we were greeted by a charming and attractive young lady. So attractive in fact, that I payed a solo tribute to her memory last night. She is also deaf, which explains the title of her entry below ‘Music to my Eyes’. Dana sat and heard us out as we pleaded our case (or saw us out, the words I mean, she saw them out of our lips) and was willing to share with us her chosen one, she was sorry to admit that she had kept the printed email in her handbag which had been stolen a week prior. By the time she had lodged her police report and considered her credit cards and driver’s license she had almost forgotten the password was in there. She explained that she checked the site at once but it had already been updated by an anonymous source.
But Davie is quick when it comes to cop business. He was on the phone to his gay partner (in a professional sense only he claims) asking if he could do a big favour. Now forgive me if these logistics seem dubious but Taylor put a call out on a scum bag who robbed a deaf girl. Turns out the guy responsible for the trashy but possibly witty parody ‘Thievin’ the Night’ was still being held not far from here. Sailor (the gay partner) bargained the password out of the idiot for a reduced sentence and before passing it to us, the recently single flamer posted his profile under the heading ‘Gaylor Made’ sure to be a hit in the community, I suspect. I think Davie is keen actually.
But now the key lies with me. The original, the founder, and I have the power again. But the Righteous conclusion here is that I will not be reclaiming my title. I will pass this sacred pass on in honour of the evolution of freedom. The evolution of Liberty!
But before I sign out I must express what is truly important. Walter Wallace is in hiding now and we are all demanding his blood. But how are we so easily fooled by the corporates at Citadel and their media monkeys spinning this campaign. Tony Holdsworth is a hack. “Doctor” Sam Tank is a fraud. He is one down the rung from the ultimate evil that is Boss Citadel. Do not buy into their new products or the false promises. Walter never promised you this happiness that you crave, but he did willingly try to help.
And now we condemn him? Fuck that! We need to rise up! Let us rise up aginst the oppression. In two weeks from today we will be rallying out the front of Citadel Towers! Read on here for more details. Share this page with everyone. Spraypaint it on the billboards. We will show our strength in front of the evil headquarters that threaten to dictate to us for the rest of our days. We will be heard and seen and they will fucking listen!