Wherein Rob reminisces about his theatre life, play by play
The Bear, by Anton Chekov
One-Act play, produced by the UPEI Theatre Society. Directed by Nancy McLure. Also with Linda Wigmore as Elena Ivanova Popova, and Peter Ewart as Luka.
Role: Grigory Stepanovitch Smirnov
I don’t remember a whole lot about this theatrical experience, other than I quite enjoyed it. A bigger than life character, fun lines to say, and a great little one act play. It was the first-hand in a two-hander night of one act plays that the UPEI Theatre Society put on, along with Autumn in the Han Palace by Yiian.
I remember that summer and fall, LInda Wigmore, Peter Ewart and myself were trying to conjure up creative enterprises. Peter was very eager to come up with some new and exciting type of board game. We managed to create perhaps the most complicated game ever, but it wasn’t much fun to play. I don’t remember the name of it.
So, we decided to focus our attentions on theatre, and Nancy McLure was pulled into the circle to direct us in a one-act play that either LInda or Nancy came up with. While I don’t remember anything really specific from the rehearsals and performances – other than it was my first time using a breakaway chair, borrowed from The Kings Playhouse – I can say that Peter Ewart was such a tornado to perform with. A guy whose unpredictability – caused by two-parts nerves and three-parts comedic inspiration – could create great gales of laughter and immense confusion with his actions and words and mannerisms. A one of a kind, for sure. It was a real privilege to be in Peter’s circle at that time.
Wherein Rob reflects upon his theatre career, play by play
Act One, Scene Two – 1985 – Electra, by Euripides. Produced by the UPEI Theatre Society. Directed by David Moses.
Role: Pylades…. Also with a cast of many
At one point in my life – well, for the first 20+ years or so – I was a rather slim, athletic person. I only point that out so that when you read this, you won’t be imagining the current me, the hulking mass of a man that I am resolved to be. As you read on, imagine a sleek, tall, well-proportioned version of me.
Think this guy:
<——–
(This was me, a year before, on my way to be Billy Idol at the Halloween Pub at The Barn at UPEI. The vest was a black garbage bag, as was the studded wrist band. The studs were painted on white-out. The pleather pants I stole from Zellers. I won the prize for best costume – the prize was a bar tab.)
I played Pylades, a fried of Orestes, in this production of Electra, the Greek tragedy. The character of Pylades is persona muta, which means he has no speaking lines. I don’t know if David giving me that role was a comment and criticism of my performance in Glass Menagerie or not. I think I was the first in the cast to be off book. The role itself was pretty simple: “Move here on this line and look Greek soldiery.”
And what’s a Greek soldier wear? My wardrobe consisted of a leather-type black vest or tunic, a leather helmet, and a short, short black fabric skirt. And sandals with laces up the calves, and a sword. It’s the short short skirt I remember. (It’s also the thing all the ladies remember, am I right, girls?). An intimidating piece of wardrobe, difficult to wear comfortably and assuredly, for a shy, unsullied young man. I will leave it to the Critics of History whether I pulled the look off or not. But I can tell you this: it didn’t get me laid.
Also, neither Billy Idol nor a bar tab got me laid a year earlier. I certainly wasn’t secure enough in myself to flirt, and I was beyond naive when it came to the idea someone might want to flirt with me. I remember one night at Gentleman Jim’s, I was actually up on the dance floor – I most likely was dancing by myself, so it must have been Flyin’ Phil’s New Wave Monday Night – and some woman kept groping my ass. Not a careless touch from a swinging, dancing arm. But a firm, committed, obvious grab of my ass. I looked behind me, and an attractive woman smiled at me. I turned around and continued dancing. Another ass grab. Then another bigger, nodding, knowing smile from her. My reaction was not “Hey, alright, she’s coming on to me!”, rather it was more along the lines of “What’s HER problem?” To rid myself of any chance of encounter and confusion, I quickly returned to my seat and most likely finished off a Keiths. Only later, too late later, did it even cross my mind she may have been making a move on me.
What else do I remember from Electra? Well, Glynnis Ranney played Electra (was she just visiting PEI at the time?), and she would go on, a few years later to play Anne Shirley in The Charlottetown Festival’s production of Anne of Green Gables, The Musical. There were quite a few female peers in the cast, many of whom may have even actually been trying to make moves on me, dressed in my balls-high skirt and leather. How would I even know?
Wherein Rob reflects upon his theatre career, play by play
Act One, Scene One – 1985 – The Glass Menagerie, by Tennesee Williams. Produced by the UPEI Theatre Society. Directed by David Moses.
Role: Jim O’Connor, the gentleman caller…. Also with David Moses at Tom Wingfield, Nancy McLure as Laura Wingfield, and Sharlene MacLean as Amanda Wingfield
My first ever theatrical role. I was in my 2nd year at UPEI, freshly switched out of the Psychology Department and into an English major. I had started to hang around at university just a bit with David Moses and his friend Nick Grant, and was enjoying the new influences that they introduced me to. I don’t recall having any interest in acting or performing before David asked me if I wanted to be in a play. I’m not sure why he asked me, but I do still remember the exact spot where he asked. It was at UPEI, on the path just in front of Main Building. I remember thinking how I thought it was a curious and alien concept: acting. I can’t remember why I agreed, but I did. Although maybe not right away. However, it turns out, that decision entirely changed the course and path that my life would follow.
I don’t remember much about the rehearsal process. I can’t even remember where we rehearsed, or even where the performances took place. Either The MacKenzie Theatre, or the gymnasium at UPEI? I do know that I was somewhat intimidated by the talent and confidence and simmering sexuality of Sharlene as she wonderfully played the Wingfield matriarch. I wish, in hindsight, that I would have known a bit more what the heck I was doing, so I could have learned from her. Nancy was terrific as Laura and I was often genuinely moved by her performances. She made it easy for me. David seemed to relish playing the broody, unhappy Tom. I was fortunate to have such talents surround me.
I played Jim, the gentleman caller. He is supposed to be a somewhat vivacious, energetic, optimistic and charming character. As a true-life shy, unassuming, under-the-radar type of person myself, I was surely out of my depths in those regards. I had absolutely zero experience as an actor, and really had no idea what I was doing. I have no true idea of how I did, although I shall assume I did okay.
I have two distinct memories of the performance. 1) I recall, in one performance, at one specific point in the play, I thought I did something that seemed real and honest and true. I had a bit of an Eureka moment, like “Oh, so THAT is what acting is supposed to be like!” The glorious moment immediately preceeded 2) As I was basking in the personal triumph of mastering what acting is, the play continued around me. I hurtled back down to Earth from my lofty Thespian self-indulgence to realize that it was my line. Nancy was waiting for it. I totally blanked and was, for what seemed like forever but was likely less than a moment, filled with extreme and agonizing panic. But I pulled through. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. And it was in those two moments where my love of performing was likely born.
I’ve never had a more creative period of time (7 years) than when Sketch-22 was out and about (2002-2010). The output that the group, in all its various personnel incarnations, created was really exciting and silly and profound and extreme and sweet and sordid and too far and way too far.
Season Four had a number of sketches I loved. One in particular was “The Picken and Grinnen Honeymoon Hoedown and Leo Shiveree Show”. Kind of an homage to Hee Haw, I suppose, but focused on all things concerning weddings, marriage and the issues around those things.
One segment involved Dennis Trainor as Little Jimmie Caulkin, playing a country-bumpkin kind of country comic. He instructs the audience on how to make a baby.
I wanted Little Jimmie to be almost incomprehensible in what he says, and so, to help Dennis keep this in mind, I wrote his lines phonetically, and asked him to memorize them like this, but even make them more hard to understand.
The video linked below came across my YouTube feed the other day. I watched it and laughed really hard. Hence my reason for posting this. Dennis nails the performance. The props are hilarious, and the whole sketch is just crazy, outrageous fun.
Have a watch at the link, and if you like, read along with the script below.
Picken: Now, lots of people, on the weddin’ night, couldn’t rub two clues together about what goes where and what to do in order to start a family. But not to worry, folks, because here he is, “The Country Comedian”, our very own Little Jimmie Caulkin, here to teach y’all how babies get made on your weddin’ night!
Picken and Grinnen exit as Little Jimmie enters to some upbeat banjo music. He’s dressed in a country comedy suit that says “I’m from another country”, and has a puppet on each hand. A Penis Puppet and a Vagina Puppet.
Little Jimmie: Tank yus, Pinkins and da Greenans.
Watch is dis, on me hans? Well, dis (indicates the penis puppet), hits da Cack.
Hand dis (indicates the vagina puppet), dis hits da Cont.
Honely, dey hisn’t on yore hans like dis. Dey his hon yore boe-dee, hat da tap a da lay-igs. Dat’s ware ya fine da Cack hand da Cont. Hand on da night huff yar mar-yage, da two come tagather. Bot rilly, hits jost da Cack dat comes. Hand queck too!
(He laughs)
Da par Cont!
(Laughs some more)
Naw, fir dose who er jost mar-yayed in dant know huh-wat to do ta git da baybay, Little Jimmie Caulkin’s hair ta tail ya. First, yuh gat da Cack al haired so’s hit’s standin’ hup straight. Huh-wan way ta do dat his ta putt da Cack hin da woe-man’s mouth.
(He simulates putting the penis puppet in his mouth)
Hit’ll git haired! And wance da Cack his haired, yuz git ta wark on da Cont to git hit al huh-wet. Huh-wan way ta git da Cont huh-wet his ta spit on da Cont.
(He spits on the vagina puppet)
Naw, wance da Cack his haired an da Cont his huh-wet, will, den da weddin’ night gits goan, hand da Cack gus inta da Cont, like dis.
(The penis puppet enters the vagina puppet and he starts thrusting and rubbing)
Yus kip pampin’ da Cack hin han hout off da Cont ontil da Cack sports jissim, lak dis:
(Pulls the penis out and shoots a stream of milky fluid into his face)
Honely, mak shore da Cack jissim sports in da Cont, an nat hon yar face!
Yus doe dat, and nine monts lader, yus git a baybay!
Saw yuz nakkest tay-em an da Pinkins an da Greenans shaw!
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing primary reportage of Earth humanity-data collection mission.
A close inspection of mental and physical components indicate my wellness to be of positive orientation. You are of the same make, I desire, One-Who-Has-Borne-Me? Liquid precipitate falls here frequently this time period, but not membrane-burning like home world. I question your weather?
To issue and report:
I am arrived on planet Earth, one of their lunar-orbital-traverses ago. Our researchers were correct in making me human-formed, as biped land-based dominance of physical and mental is undeniable. I am of early spawning age, called female. I have begun to grow upper-torso-convex-flesh-mound-containers of liquid calcium to nourish and allure, yet, seem not mate-hungry. I am not troubled by this, as other spawners of my age are likewise disinterested in ‘boys’ (Earth name for pre and early spermers; I and like-aged spawners: ‘girls’).
I send, with this report, rendering of my physical shape.
(I do remind One-Who-Has-Borne-Me of the Malmarian on 6-49?) Due to poor copy applicator, black and white is not me. For instance, think of Red Darwelli Sunset of Carotaneas IV as colour of the dead thatch of membrane strings on my cranial compartment. I do not like it, the colour, but I have been to believe that nothing can be performed to alter appearance of such.
I was landed in urbanity. Halifax, city on land, portal to water. Immediate upon arrival, I troubled. Apprehended on Halifax street in state of aloneness, I am locked away in orphanprison with likewise aloned early- and pre-spawners, as well as early- and pre-spermers, they in separate holding block. Detentioners deny me freedom, thus deny me mission of data collection. I am to be retained until I am of acceptable spawning age, or until no more an orphan. Orphan is one without parent. Parent is like you, One-Who-Has-Borne-Me, and, strangely, included as parent is one’s spermer. I am true orphan on Earth.
I am name of Anne. This is real name here, both as Ann and Anne. I chose Ann with an ‘e’ for your humorous enjoyment, and mine. When you dispose of your anne you will remind of me? Ha ha.
Living human-shaped and human-brained is easy. My contrived personal-background-Earth-history is believed by detainers and Mission uncoverance is of no worry to me at present.
Interpersonality troubled: I find I have difficult relations with age-liked orphan spawners and spermers. I am confident in deception of them in my humanity, yet none seem to be favouring me, rathering to taunting actions and words. Taunts often centered upon the Red Darwelli Sunset dead membrane strings. They seem to provoke. I would to further explore the possibilities of pigment alteration, yet documentation on such is nonexistent in orphanprison.
Orphanprison is despotic and such, mission of knowledging wide spectrum of humanity is difficult here. I desire freedom. For sake of mission, and personal goodthought, I may take action to relieve myself of imprisonment if freedom is not otherwise gained.
Close:
Until then you will hear not of me.
End.
Timeage: 2- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data collection mission.
I ponder on the wellness of you. A rapid inspection of mental and physical components indicate my being in shape to be of a positive orientation. Fond remembrances of you fall forward in my mind, and keep me close to home planet.
How is Nicki?
To issue and report:
Joy-feelings! Orphanprison period will be terminated. I am to be homed, to-whit: Agricultural sibling team desiring strong worker, they chosen me over the muscle-spermer orphans. I am odd-choice to me. Regardless, I am pleasure-joyed to extricate myself of this detention, and chosen to remain silent of my oddity.
I am vowed to remain free.
The sibling team, I have sourced, are aged. Spawners of such time-length are disabled to spawn; spermers of such still may dispatch. I must query, in introduction to sibling team, about lack of personal offspring for strong-work, and why spermer does not yet choose to dispatch himself to a spawner, choosing instead orphanprison labour.
Detailing of sibling team is unclear, they habitate from away of orphanprison on water-surrounded land mass named of Prince Edward Island. Inquiry of naming leads my findings toward this: Edward Island is monarchial prince, due to being offsprung from spermer king and spawner queen; land mass named in celebration. Agricultural Sibling team dwell in Avonlea, naming derivation unclear. The agricultural sibling team of name Matthew spermer and Marilla postfertile spawner; endname Cuthbert.
Having seen urbanity and imprisonment, I am expecting to gain many further mission insights by encountering rurality. I transit in three more sleeps, via rail, to meeting.
Close:
Until then you will hear not of me.
End.
Timeage: 3- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data mission.
A close inspection of mental and physical components indicate my wellness to be of a positive orientation. I am pleasure oriented. Desire you to be of sameness? In answer to your query: yes, mosquitoes do live here, but they don’t own any property.
To issue and report:
I am arrived to personal freedom. Exchanged urban mass-compartmentalised-human-dweller-orphanprison for mass-transit-mass-mini-compartmentalised-temporary-human-dweller-multi-wheeled-on-double-track-vehicle called train, to transport me to now, to rural compartmentalised-familial-human-dweller-construction called house (also home) called Green Gables. Naming of due to emerald coloured wallings and ornamentations of house. Purpose and origin of naming unclear.
Rail-transit departed me and I was human-isolated and stationary. The Matthew spermer and four-legged-transit-work-beast Pearl there attained me. We buggied via Pearl-hauling on transit-path towards to-be-home Green Gables.
In time on Earth, I have humanised myself well, never fearing my alienality uncovering. I first-time-feared uncoverance on buggy transit. Observing rurality and beauteous abundance of surroundings, I began inundation of questions to Matthew spermer, most peculiarly the similarity of the pigment of path-transit lanes and my red dead-membrane strings. The extended silence after question-burst, before the spermer’s query-response, alarmed me to his possible ponder-suspicion of my alienation, until his disclosure of elemental iron-oxidation as cause of path-transit lane pigmentation. I am suspect of iron-oxidation as valid reason, and am believing in potential of answer as cover-up for his alien uncoverance, yet I have no proof, only intuit. I vow to remain close to this spermer to further examine his kinetic or potent to uncover my otherworldliness. If uncovery occurs, I must obliterate his lifesigns. I also vow to examine possibility of iron-oxidation as cause of my red Darwelli Sunset. Perhaps another elemental oxidation will rid me of the colour I despise on my cranial compartment.
Greeting to post-spawner Marilla was negative in outcome. I second-time-feared uncoverance when she, upon initial gaze of my being disapproved, proclaimed to send me returned to orphanprison. I feared her knowledge of my trueness. Result is no suspicion; her need to return me is not my unearthliness, but due to her not being desirous of early-spawner, her request being for heavy-work early-spermer, as I odded in previous report. Matthew spermer has weary internal blood pumping organ and is in fear of heavy-lift or surprise.
Her initial emphasis to return me was surprisingly deleted upon visitation to end-name Blewett dweller. Large quantity of pre and early spawners and spermers there reminding of orphanprison, difference: they being parented. The Marilla gave no reason in non-return turn around, end resulting in my continuance at Green Gables, and my continued please.
I am to beginning of formal education soon, expecting to gain much insight into humanity there.
Close:
Until then you will hear not of me.
Afterthought:
Incident occurrence to relate. Compatriot of Marilla, post spawner Rachel end-name Lynde, arrived for inspect of my fineness. Rachel-post spawner disapproval of me resulted in surprise and uncontrollable build of anger feelings in me. I to her gave likewise voiced insultual remark. Result: Discovery of hierarchy in command: post spawners hold dictatorial command over early spawner such as I, much as orphanprison warden. Disloyalty to hierarchy resulting in punishment and apology. I refuted hierarchy: Sentence of solitary imprisonment in second storey restive quarters.
After brief period Spermer Matthew secretly ascended, via multi-pronged ascension device, to rectangled glass encased view-hole, where spiritual bonding of us occurred through conversation as spermer incited me to apology. (I begin to postulate opinion that perhaps spermer not suspiced of me, yet am wary of trap.) At such time I gravitated the boards of ascension/descension, made forth with abundant words of regret and sorrow of action and speech, appeasing all involved.
Close:
To school and again until then you will hear not of me.
End.
Timeage: 4- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data mission.
A close inspection of physical components indicate wellness. Mentality in state of post anger. All-wellness to you.
I miss your baking, One-Who-Has-Borne-Me, also, the gang at Prepnoth Accountables Tavern.
To issue and report:
Post anger result of initial term of new school. Early spermer name of Gilbert, endname Blythe, raised my ire, yanking my dead membrane thatch which he (supposedly) mistooken for batch of agriculturally manufactured orange tapered nutritional sticks. I again surprised by another uncontrolled non-thinking response from me, this time not of words alone (as with Rachel-postspawner), but also of violence as I grasp portable hard framed-flatrock-writing board, connecting it to early spermer’s brain pan region, potentially damaging. Immediate result: punishment by spermer-educator, name of Phillips, by means of embarrassment, having my name misspelled on large, vertical, hard framed-flatrock-writing board. Extended surprise result: feelings of mate-hunger for early spermer Gilbert have begun. I find him to cause irrationality in my thought processes; very disconcerting, and potentially true-identity-revealing. I am decisioning to ignore feelings of mate-hunger, in favour of mission data collection, and to treat Gilbert as nonsuch.
Further result of anger attack: misinformation as to severity of my Gilbert-attack, passed through Avonlea by way of unreliable mouth-to-ear communication, has arrived to the Marilla post-spawner. News is Gilbert spermer has ceased due to my doings. Again post-spawner controls me with hierarchical power by detaining me from visitation to forthcoming outdoor social name picnic. This is upsetting for me, due to potential for acquiring mega-information on humanity interaction at such a social event.
Close:
Until next you will not hear of me.
Afterthought:
Gilbert spermer is being, not ceased. His apology-making for school violence as his blame, and purchase of gift of new portable hard framed-flatrock-writing board to me resulting in my allowance to socialise at event called picnic. Reportage on such to follow next.
Close:
Until such you will not of me hear.
AfterAfterthought:
I must to mention of kindredship with like-aged early spawner, name of Diana (derivation: Earth Heathen goddess) Barry (derivation: unclear). Immediate and deep bonding of us took place, and I am confidant that we will be compatriots for duration of my tenure as human on Earth.
Close:
Bye.
End.
Timeage: 5- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data mission.
A close inspection of physical and mental components indicate wellness to be positively orientated. Did you enjoy the tubers I sent you? They are popular here. You eat them.
To issue and report:
The social event named Picnic has been performed by all the community and wellness springs from all. I am to relating to you the plateau of event: a pleasure-taste sensation from digestible food product name of Ice Cream. Computations from my brain indicate that there is nothing more delectable than it. But to relate, as well, the surroundings of the tasting.
Participation in non-competitive competition is requisite at Picnic. I, to involve myself, join one of my lower appendaged limbs to another human’s, Diana Barry of course, by way of rope, and we, together forming a new three legged beast, compete against other newformed tri-pegged beasts in attempt to be primary attainers of end-line and victory. AnneDiana Beast won, although victory was achieved through deviousness of Gilbert, as part of GilbertJosie Beast. The spermer, attached to early spawner name of Josie Pye, (name derivation I believe to be an edible confectionary) and they in the front of racepack, purposely tripped themself up, allowing AnneDiana Beast victory. AnneDiana Beast, consequently tripping over fallen GilbertJosie Beast, fell across the end line, and I, face into a hand held edible wafer conical container for ice cream. Embarrassment overcame me as ice cream consumed my features, but embarrassment left in place of fascination at taste sensation of ice cream.
Curious is this feeling of matehunger. I choose to ignore it, but it is powerful. I observe that Gilbert spermer has matehunger in his eyes, both for me, and for spawner JosiePye. While I refute any and all ritualistic attempts by Gilbert spermer to be my mate, I find myself full of negative feelings of jealousy whenever JosiePye attempts to mate-catch him. Still, for the success of mission, I decide to ignore his strong mate hunger scent.
I am to summer vacate from education, afterwhich I will resume correspondence.
Close:
Until then you will not hear of me.
Afterthought:
I have described in past writings my unhappiness of pigment of dead membrane strings. After much research and experimentation, I took action. A purchase of liquid from peddler (name derivation to mean foreigner, to mean ‘from away’, to mean ‘alien’, like myself) who promised me carrion coloured dead membrane, same as Diana Barry. Use of it resulted not in black but in green, much like the Gables. I was of the belief that nothing could be worse than the Red Darwelli Sunset dead membrane strings, but to be Green Gables headed is such. After showing troubled mess of strings to Marilla post spawner, she cut and styled the strings into presentableness. So presentable were my head strings that Diana Barry showed emotions of envy, which made me happy feeling.
Close:
Summer Vacate, until afterwhich you will not hear of me.
End.
Timeage: 6- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data mission.
Mental: positive. Physical: positive.
You will never guess who contacted me from home planet: One-To-Whom-I-Owe-My-Life-For-Him-Having-Saved-It-From-The-Invading-Krintoxans-Raid-Where-They-Almost-Skinned-Me-Alive. Did you give him this address? Please don’t give it out, One-Who-Has-Borne-Me, I’m on a secret mission.
To issue and report:
We seem to have misplaced the sunshine. After a warm-season respite, the young spermers and spawners, myself included, have begun again our daily ritual of education. Difference to education ritual this time is occupation of education leader by new educator. A mid-prime spawner name of Miss Stacey. ‘Miss’ is to indicate availability of her to potential mate hungry spermers.
Subtle queries inform me that the last educator, Phillips, was released from educational duties due to dalliances with former student, the spawner name of Prissy Andrews. The unsubstantiated mouth-to-ear news around the community is that Prissy is spawning with Phillips’ sperm and that they are to douse their mutual mate hunger by entering into matrimony. During the last education session, when Phillips was still educator, he would spend inordinate amounts of education on spawner Prissy, so I readily believe the unsubstantiated reports.
I am happy-feelings about loss of Phillips in favour of Miss Stacey. My interminglings with him have always been negative in outcome, and my education was stilted. Miss Stacey is most positive in her approach and wellness to all, but especially to me. At first I questioned why she would kind herself so to me, but decided it was because I am unusually bright and interesting. Whatever, I am finding my human brain expanding with human data knowledge, to such an extent that Miss Stacey is desirous of me to attain an Avery Scholarship (monetary allowance to further education at institute of higher learning). I am interested in such an attainment as such would allow me to further my study of humanity in a completely different earthly environment to Avonlea. Trouble: spermer Gilbert, also intelligenced, is aiming for same Avery, so we are locked in competition. I have no fear, however, that I’ll show him that I can attain mental superiority victory over him.
Close:
I will abreast you of success of competition when I win.
Afterthought:
Oddity with Matthew spermer. He monetarily purchased a new body covering for me, called dress. Marilla post-spawner felt plainness good enough, but Matthew spermer went against and given me dress that was much pretty. I wondering if giving is attempt to put him in favourable thoughts for me. I wary of his still suspiced of my alienality and perchance uncoverance. I accept gift of dress but still ware him. Maybe I am incorrect on his knowledge of my reality and him simply kind old spermer.
Close:
News of Avery will greet you with my victory over it, I assure.
End.
Timeage: 7- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data mission.
I am fine. How are you?
To Issue and Report:
I am victorious in Avery, as I never doubted. The news of win came at school recital (defined: memorising of historical fact to be spoken in entertaining evening of sketches). Trouble at recital was some lesser education-learners did not remember their historical facts and I came to rescue, spewing out all the information pertinent to an enjoyable evening. All the Avonlea was there, minus Matthew spermer, who suffers angina. Josie Pye was so stomach-stuffed with Phillips’ child that she could not ably sit in a desk of learning. I to Gilbert spermer offered my sympathy for his not being as smart as me, but he ran off in a torrent of liquid-eyes emotion.
Immediately I started envisioning my future data collection possibilities in an institute of higher learning. I am to make plans to leave at once.
Close:
Until then you will not hear of me.
Afterthought:
I have regretfully ceased the life of Matthew spermer. I uncovered the truth in his knowledging me. He managed uncoverance of my letters of issuance and reportage to you, One-Who-Has-Borne-Me. Matthew spermer discovered my mission, discovered his worries of my objectives as trueness, discovered my intent of departure. I was heart-heavy in my decision to terminate his ability to live, but I could not allow the mission to be jeopardised and ruined. The events of such are such:
Upon my return alone from recital, happy feeling about my ability to show photographic memorising of all parts of recital, and my Avery victory over Gilbert and my subsequent impending departure from Green Gables to new areas of humanity, I discovered Matthew spermer reading my previously hidden reports to you. His shock of discovery and validation of alien-thoughts was such that it caused his blood-pumping organ, name of heart, to fluctuate wildly. You may recall with ironic past remembrance that it was this very proneness to organ fluctuations that caused Matthew spermer and Marilla post spawner to request farm-chore assistance from the orphanprison, resulting in my arrival.
Matthew spermer, incapacitated by pain, viewed me in my eyes, and saw me as me, alien, recoginised my reality. In the moment I realise he always suspiced me yet never cared about it. He loved me without regard to alienality. Still that night, he looked at me with his love emotion pouring out of him, and through his look, I could feel him loving me still, alien or no. I was immediately overcome by the desire that I wished I had told him the truth about me at first suspicion in that Pearl hauled buggy, and have him as ally, but of course could not return now to the past.
He requested of me to help him continue living, by getting him his salvalattily, a heart fluctuation-reduction medicine, him promising not to tell of the truth of me. At that moment, upon reviewing the vow I took to uphold the mission in favour of all else, I surmised that I could not allow him continuance of life, with knowledging me, and so I left the room, under guise of searching for salvalattily, purposely not returning until he ceased. I was sad-feeling about his ceasing, he was a kind and good spermer.
I must stay on at Green Gables a little longer to help the Avonlea grieve over cessation of Matthew spermer, but am still to going on to learning institute.
Close:
Until then you will not hear of me.
End.
Timeage: 8- 4432- 897- 22- 1
Begin:
To One-Who-Has-Borne-Me
To identify:
I am fourth spawned of you, issuing reportage of Earth humanity-data mission.
An inspection of mental and physical finds me well enough, although slightly on the down side of normal-happy. You could say I’m a little blue. I attribute it to the circumstances surrounding Matthew spermers cessation. How are you? If I am not incorrect, it is mate hunting season on home planet. Have you caught one yet. I hope it’s better than the last one. I thought it smelled to high heaven, I can tell you now, from such a distance.
To Issue and Report:
The cessation of Matthew spermer has confounded my plans to seek new avenues of data collection. I am not leaving Green Gables now, as earlier believed. Marilla post-spawner has become morose and wet with emotive feeling, whereas pre-Matthew spermer cessation, she was hard and dry. My departure from here would mean the end to Green Gables, as Marilla post-spawner is incompetent in running an agricultural dwelling alone. I am enjoying of this homestead and would not to see it go. I have deciding to stay.
I gave my Avery to Gilbert spermer, who is almost as smart as me, for his continuance in higher education. When he received the generosity from me he vowed that we could be friends, good friends, and I concurred demurely. The power of our mate hunting season is strong, so much that it causes me thoughts inside my brain. Giving him the scholarship, I wanted to copulate with him, as my sex organs churned. Remembering my vow to ignore his mate-scent, I did not act on my churns. I may never see Gilbert spermer again, and my heart is heavy with sad feeling.
I have decided that to ensure no more uncoverance of my reality through perusal of letters of report, this report will be my last by such means. Further on I will begin to telephone to you my reports.
