Authored By

Connotation
Chump
1

Other Books in this Series

Anne of Green Gables
Anne of Avonlea
Anne of the Island
Anne of Windy Poplars
Anne of Windy Willows
Anne of Ingleside
Chronicles of Avonlea
Further Chronicles of Avonlea
The Blythes Are Quoted

Be sure to also purchase!

the Anne of Carowinds Audiobook
the Anne of Carowinds Illustrated
Companion

Anne of
Carowinds

Authored by Connotation Chump

Chapter 1

Chewing Synders of Hanover in the twilight of the

day, sitting at her window overlooking the fields of
Cavendish, Anne of Green Gables wrote to Sullivan
Home Entertainment, insisting that a movie be made
about her life. She sighed wishfully as she gazed out
the window pane, knowing quite well the various liaisons and press contacts she would have to go through
in order to be attended to.
"Hey Kiddo," her daddy tapped the door to her room
and came in, "I'm going in to town soon, would you
still like me to drop off your manuscript at the post
office?"
"Yes please, would you?" Anne said.
Her father rode his 1932 Indian motorcycle into the
warm salty wind, round the bluffs of Chelton, carrying her chronicles tucked against his rib. Arriving at
5

the Summerside general post office on Main Street,

he gave a friendly wave to Mr. Abbington, the postman. Father moved his rib against the postal box,
raking the mail loose out of his aviator jacket and
into the mail slot.
Weeks past without the faintest reply. She sighed
fervently as she stared out the window pane, knowing quite well the various emotional knots she would
have to untie (to get a direct-to-video release). Taking
her ritalins and nibbling on various lingonberries, she
recalled her past frolics, conquests involving crying,
spooning and all the rest. Sitting and sulking, whisping away at the day, activities like this became all too
habitual for young Anne. Having scribbled various
incantations all across her body, she sat quiet in the
corner, subtlety picking her eyebrows and also plucking her eyelashes (surrounded at arms length with
various things to pester at). She would often move in
sync with the mice of the house.
The manuscript, that she had authored at such a
young age, was writ on an old piece of portrait paper. It described Anne's story in full detail, a precocious orphan girl taken in by the Cuthberts, her pale
countenance dotted with freckles. Although Marilla's
miserable temperament is transformed for the better by imaginative and playful Anne Shirley, she is
something of a chatterbox, driving prim, duty-driven
Marilla to distraction. Wishing she would be named
Cordelia, Anne insists that if you are to call her Anne,
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it must be spelt with an 'E', as it is "so much more distinguished."

Sighing wishfully, she once again gazed out her
window at the fields of Cavendish. There was a man
meandering his way towards the house off in the
faraway distance! "YES!!" It was honest Mr. Abbington, the blind mailman. She dashed down the stairs,
out the door of her Victorian Homestead, brushing by
periwinkle bushes and across the acreage.
Mr. Abbington had a plethora of mail to give Anne's
family: mostly, the past year's issues of Hammacher
Schlemmer- there was also a letter, it was addressed
to a certain Anne Shirley.
She snatched it out of Mr. Abbington's hands and
scratched it right open. There was a distinctive letterhead that said "Sullivan Home Entertainment," and
writing was printed below:
Dear Anne Shirley,
My name is Thomas Sullivan, President and
Founding Partner of Sullivan Home Entertainment. We have received your manuscript
and you will be delighted to know we would
like to option your intellectual property as a
'made-for-TV-direct-to-video' VHS,it would be
an invaluable asset to every home's children's
VHS library. Now then, we have been in constant correspondence with your foster parents
7

who tell us you have been a naughty little girl

sitting and sulking the day away, feigning that
you are in distress, not able to comprehend
why there has been no deal brought to the
table, brokered in honor of your manuscript.
This is most unfortunate, as we will have to
do a complete re-visioning of your most recent
chronicles. We want you to seem lovely that is
why we have decided to track and monitor youwe will record all your innermost thoughts and
desires, and then we'll have our teams of producers and wordsmiths rewrite your little secrets into delightful story-lines that seem more
endearing. You will not be compensated for
this, since as you signed your regards in your
last letter, we assumed an inherit contractual
obligation as we now own your life's story.
Sincerely, Thomas Sullivan
"Oh how I wish I would faint most gracefully," Anne
lamented as she carried her ligaments back to posture. She proceeded to re-read the text again, muttering incoherently as she intricately folded the paper
letter into her bleeding cuticles, trembling in hysteria
at its message. Screaming, Anne went up upon the
veranda, and tried ripping her breasts off her body.
Nothing seemed to make the rippling fever in her
head go away.
She started shrieking and scratching the word
8

"Bitchy" into the various surfaces of the veranda. As

she lit her legs on fire, she screamed "Rot in Hell" over
and over. She sat with legs on the ground, bashing
her head into her shins and knees trying to break her
bone leggings. The fire spread onto the veranda porch
by now and Marilla poked her head our the screen
door to lark, "Oh Anne, youre incorrigible."

Chapter 2

Lucky for Anne, her father was a volunteer fireman

with wavy gray hair, and had been in the lighthouse
when he saw the arson begin. The fire had been extinguished due to Mr. Cuthbert's true diligence, but not
at a cost to his disposition.
Based partly upon a parallel correspondence with
Thomas Sullivan, a first rate recommendation for
Anne on Mr. Sullivan's behalf, Mr. Cuthbert and
Marilla had decided to send Anne away once and for
all. In the middle of the night, Anne was taken away
in her sleep by candlelight and driven through midnight tobacco fields to the sanatorium.
Nestled on the northeastern-most seashore of
North Carolina, on an inlet nole abutting the Outerbanks, The Tussock-Carowinds Sanatorium was a
10

stately turn of the century gingerbread estate, fitted

with state of the art interrogation devices and surveillance equipment.
When Anne awoke she was in a white room with a
fistful of buttered popcorn wedged into her mouth.
There was a vintage brass trolley-esque popcorn
machine popping right beside her, which accentuated her pulsing migraine. Snug deep within a secondhand UNC Tarheels hoodie, she began mumbling
and moaning in dismay. That's when the zapping
started. The popcorn in her mouth burst all over the
front of her hoodie in burnt bits of grease and she
screamed. There were pulses of wild buzzing piercing
through her body and in the background she could
hear echoes of laughter. Choking and convulsing,
she responded with an enormous amount of physical
strength, striving to rip off the restraints.
The lightning-fields out in the windows were making the whole building shake in a brittle, quake-like
fit. The exterior-interior energy transfusion was creating an enormous amount of air pressure in the room
that could make someone's head burst at any moment. In the corner, Anne saw shadowy toy-makers
snorting crushed Tylenol. That's when the roof burst
open. It happened in one fell swoop, so fast that it
looked as if the roof had been zapped up by the lightning clouds swirling overhead. This happened right
above Anne Shirley, with surging, gushing rainwater
filling her field of vision with hydroelectric force.
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These conditions lashed her for hours.

At around 5am the water died down to a Chinese
pitter-patter.
In the reflection of a gob of water that dropped
from the scaffolding she saw that her restrained head
was cut open and being operated on. She could hear
the backwards surgeons murmuring in riddles... to
her left, to her right and then it would continue to
echo in feedback. Mending with buttons and cobbler's
tools, surgeons squeezed electrified blood into her
mind.
From behind the bend, out popped Mister Thomas
Sullivan twirling his cane, in a ribboned sear-sucker
suit. "You may call me Robert Redgraves, if you so incline." But he was only joshing, as his dastardly smirk
and tipped tall hat would imply. His name was Thomas Sullivan or Chaz Sully, no more, no less.
"Had enough yet? Your fosters have left you. Your
whole world is mine. I own you now, Anne, and there
is nothing you can do about it. You are going to play
nice as I make you the signature character for my
very entire company. There are a trillion zillion dollars
riding on how you present yourself and I don't want
any slip-ups. Do you hear me?"
Sipping his butterscotch tonic, he smacked his lips
and sucked a twirly candy cane. "Here is some nice
entertainment that you may keep you distracted
12

while you are programmed."

He popped in a children's movie and walked off to
lavish quarters.
Having typically used VHSes of Madeline or Matilda to humiliate his new participants, Sully had recently acquired a taped bootleg Screeners Guild copy
of Coraline. Having decided to explore the esoteric
technologies behind sucha obsolescence, he had developed a process for getting his brainwashed subjects to sit poised in position for as long as humanly
(possible). They watched Henry Selicks Coraline,
while receiving electroshock therapy as he molded an
exact miniature master copy; a china doll that he will
eventually sell by the millions. Mister Sullivan was
determined to get his doll exactly as Anne was, right
down to the last freckle.
He had plans for developing a whole line of dolls
based around the idea of what it means to be a girl in
North America. There would be Oklahoma girls. Texas
gals. A New York City rich bitch.
Designed to take care of children while they
watched his movie shows, these dolls would feel real
to their childs. The video would instill major doll-trust
in their viewers. After the video was over, the dolls
would take on a life of their own. Highly influencing,
their suggesting would make the child do whatever
their toymaster desired.
13

Chapter 3

After the storm, a glorious morningtime came

around and Anne was seated in the parlor next to Tea
and Strumpets. Her drool was still zapping electricity and she was craving Ritalin from lack of a typical
night's sleep. Despite an atypical night, she still sat
poised and with a much better disposition than she
did the night before.
Anne smiled gracefully at her doll and touched the
flowers next to her reflection chair. They wilted. Anne
pouted the rest of the day away in shamely melancholy.
The next morning Annie tried it once more. Anne
smiled gracefully at her doll and touched the flowers
next to her reflection chair. They wilted. Anne sighed,
"Oh! Its useless" and frowned. Her new doll grinned
and looked back, offering its hand. " (On behalf of the
14

writing) May I call you a she?" Anne quipped. The

doll smirked. "May I call you Coraline?"
Anne touched Coraline. She got a slight static electric shock. Coraline of Coastal Carolina shall be a
fine name!
Anne looked deep within her Coraline dolls button gaze, or at least as deep as she could hope to
look, hoping for as much of a response as possible.
Coraline dolls moved her hand up to her face and
lifted the button up, exposing the dolls swirly marble
eye. The doll winked back at Anne. Annes gaze shifted slightly, she felt a real presence inside of that doll.
In fact, she felt a psychic pulse. Oh Coraline! Its aces
that we are on the same wavelength! she exclaimed.
The doll then communicated to Anne that she
would like to watch the movie. Anne instantly knew
which movie that was. They both got up and changed
locations to the Children s VHS Video Viewing Area.
The video, the movie Coraline, automatically queued
up and started playing as she went near that area.
Welcome to the safety shell, the intro began. Everythings nice in the safety shell. The lights dimmed,
the gases poured in and then the straps came down.
Anne was to go into her electrocution cycles for the
morning viewing.
The movie gave Anne insane trust for her Coraline
doll. It told Anne to listen to anything that her doll
15

told her to do, that the doll had Annes best intentions at heart. The electroshock made that suggestive
material all the more influential. She swooned and
grinned in agreement with sparks coming out of her
dimples. The video promised Anne that she would
be given self-enhancing challenges in the upcoming
days, orders from Coraline doll that she was advised
to take.
Following Coraline doll after the viewing, Anne
flowed her ribboned hair through the Carowinds to
the billowing Tussock wet meadowland (Lyme Disease). The dolls first challenge to Anne Shirley was
to try and conduct electricity with her own body. She
obliged with gracious continence, saying that she
expected premiere Tea and Strumpets in exchange for
this doldrum.
Out in the fields of Carowinds, Anne closed her
eyes, and stuck out her hand far out in front of her
face for her first attempt. She leaped forth into the
sky, grasping the lightning shard as it grazed immediately past dark drizzles of smoking hot summer
stormwater. The electricity penetrated her fisted
embrace and exercised its might through to her cranium, tunneling right down into her spinal column.
The electrical storms light refracted past her dark
silhouette, as she exclaimed Ally-Oopa! mid-air in
pure joy.

16

She tore the ribbons out of her hair, clutched

Coraline doll by her side, and wildly dashed through
the sassafras.

17

Chapter 4

Sitting back in her detention room overlooking the

wispy fields of Carowinds, while chewing kernels
of burnt poppycock, Anne of Green Gables wrote
an impassioned emergency message to Mr. Sullivan
pining for a movie to still be made about her life. She
sighed wishfully as she gazed out through her bars
to the open expanse of electrical clouds, holding the
tin of poppycock close to her bosom in the wee hours.
Her retainer was designed for special deliveries from
the tooth fairy and was attached to a cable tied to
the bars of her cell quarters so she wouldnt make a
pigtail escape.
After her dashing in the fields, she knew herself to
be a possible role model for adventurous girls. How
she wanted to win their adulation through childrens
video distribution, but her soul was trapped inside
of this world. She smiled in accordance to Coraline
18

dolls suggestion, but felt truly sorry for herself.

In the morning, when Anne left the pantry, the
quarter chefs electrical equipment around her sputtered into a rattle, dropped off the shelves. In the
breakfast parlor during Tea and Strumpets, Coraline
healed a weepy kitty with grace- her button gaze.
Kittys eyes were now buttoned, and within minutes
of healing, he started eating his own tail.
She began lamenting her condition. No fair, Anne
pined, why can't I have all the fun with Coraline?
Upon feigning mild epilepsy, she contracted and
released her muscles in quick succession. Doing this
to attract her dolls concern, Anne was desperate
for a mommy, and she wanted to be under the strict
tutelage of Coraline. Growing jealous of the eye-buttons for consuming too much of her dollys visual
attention, Anne wanted the ability to lock eyes with
Coraline doll in moments of episodes. So after Tea
and Strumpets, her first objective was to snatch away
Coraline dolls eye-buttons.
Later during nap, in a fit of emotional raggity-anneness, Anne snuck into Coralines private quarters for
the snatching. Upon plucking the buttons from her
dolls lashes, her marble eyeballs dilated and blinked
in a bit of surprise. Capturing Annes wrist with one
fist, Anne grabbed her bedside glass of water with the
other hand and splished Anne in the face. This was
most unexpected!
19

Oh, Cordelia. You mustnt worry so, Coraline doll

said.
Anne wondered why Coraline doll would call her
Cordelia, since her name was clearly Anne as
marked by her freckled continence. This gave Anne
wonderment.
Cordelia? Whatever do you mean?
I always thought of you as a Cordelia. You are my
twin, Coraline informed Anne. Be guided by my
instructions and rules.
Yes! Anne exclaimed.
I will put you in the video movie, if you trust everything that I say. The first thing I need to do is to
take a measurement of the amount of emotion you
expend. If you allow me to place my hand on your
heart, I can give you an accurate emotional reading.
Coraline pressed her hand firmly against Anne's
heart so that her pulse could be read.
By measuring Annes heart-rate at 900 bpm,
Coraline was able to do the conversion into watts,
thus measuring how much electricity she had passed
inside of her, and how much energy she would expend if she were to, say, fight an adversary.
Annes eyes widen.
20

Your numbers are nice and high, very juicy data,

but we can still do better. Until we get your numbers
up, we shall continue with further electroshock
therap-
Electroshock! Anne exclaimed! Anne thought that
this was most peculiar. Why would Coraline support
her electroshock treatment? Wasnt that something
only the mean old Mister Sullivan was capable of asking of her? Anne of course had bad memories of her
treatment.
Im so sorry, I meant Lightning Capers. My sincere
apologies for the slip up. Anyways, as I was saying, if
you continue with these runs , I will begin to measure
and quantify this data, making predictive models of
your wild mood swings based on certain trends in the
data. Would you care for a Lightning Caper at the
current moment, Cordelia?
Anne stared deep within Coraline and began to
sense some semblance of a soul. If I do this, will you
become my one and only bosom buddy? She still
desperately care.
Absolutely! Coraline magnificently exclaimed!

21

Chapter 5

Anne dashed down the stairs, through the screen

door of the sanatorium, and out into the wild wet
pastures of the property.
Soon she was in the middle of the open expanse.
The hard rain came pounding down. She leapt into
the sky, masking out her impression exposure against
the jagged light of the night. She elongated her bodyshape as a conductor; the lightning followed her lead
and wrapped its grip around her back. From there,
raw energy took hold. She gasped for air, arched her
back, and hovered mid-air 20 feet above the salten
earth. She could not control the power and dropped
to the ground. Sore from the fall, two different electricities shot down and grabbed her left and right pigtails outwards from her head towards the sky. The left
(right) one held a positive charge, the right (left) one
held a negative charge, depending upon if you are in
22

the 1st or 3rd person perspective (1st person or doll).

The electricity brought her back up in the air, getting
a phat 12 minute exposure charge. It would soon be
interrupted.
Now hold it right there! Arent you forgetting
something?! A shadowy figure came out of the
woodwork, with a cane and holding something in his
right (or left) hand.

It was Mr. Sullivan... holding Coraline!

Smallish Coraline was tied down to his kite. He
handed Anne the kites twine and said, Try this on
for size.
Sure, Ill give it a whirl, she coolly responded.
Mister Sullivan flung the Coraline Kite way up into
the air. The moment it went sky high, it struck lightning, hoisting Anne 1400 feet up into the lightning
clouds. She bounced to and fro within the wet cloud,
making a point not to stretch her pigtails out too afar.
Anne could hear Mister Sullivans distant chuckles down below. Inside the cloud, she see her unconscious mind come undone in a fury of dashes
and tips. She moved her mind through the air. Anne
surfed abroad the kite, got stuck on a shard of electricity, thus conjuring Annes innermost data-feelings
23

into the Coraline Kite. Anne could see reflections of

her whole life flash before her in those clouds. The
clouds were like sticky sponges, absorbing all her
important ideas, thoughts, memories and feelings as
they spilled out, and the kite was like a catcher net,
with all the innermost info-thoughts relaying directly
in to doll. The cloud recorded her gestures and gave
her aggressive feedback through the hard scrambled
static of the mind cloud. Coraline Kite was swooping
around trying to get good coverage.
Thats when she saw a clearing in the clouds. She
could see that her clouds beginnings were originated at two smoke stacks, which lead directly into Mr.
Sullivans inventors den. She was actually in a cloud
of soot, but as it was night, she never cared to notice.
The mind clouds were on a constant loop around the
fields, one smokestack emitted the soot, the other
taking it back in. The lightning was actually being
generated from Sullivan's electro- shock radio emitter.
She proceeded to gyrate wildly, while Mr. Sullivan
proceeded to reel them in like fish from a hatchery. He brought them back down to size. When they
slammed aground, they yelled Ouch!
He told them how splendid a job they had done,
that as a reward he was planning on still making a
movie of Annes life. Mister Sullivan made wonderfully nuanced pauses in his speech to the two girls.
Anne and Coraline squeezed each others arms in
24

delight, and looked around to see if anybody was

watching. It appeared that nobody gave a flying fuck
about this except for Mister Sullivan.
Coraline rolled away parts of her caucasian rubber
to expose her embedded sensors: a gyroscopic meter
that could perceive her tilt, micro-cameras, proximity
sensors, light sensors that scanned for electromagnetic intensity, binaural microphones everywhere.
Coraline is now a more advanced version of yourself, featuring the major behavioral patterns that you
once claimed as your own. Her sensors have recorded
everything about your recent life in distinctive detail.
When you do searches into Coralines eyes you will
see visions of your deepest secrets, Anne. Coraline
will then mime back the results and will learn to behave just like you based on this embodied feedback.
Coraline can do predictive behaviors based on your
previous decision history.
This gave Anne chilly goosebumps.
Mr. Sullivan yelled, The rules of engagement are
quite simple. Coraline now possesses all the major
competencies that you once claimed so dearly, Anne
Shirley. You are now in a direct competition with one
another for the chance of a lifetime! Game on
damnit!
He slam-shattered his milkshake glass on the
ground, then flung a brick at Anne. It nearly hit her!
25

But she was safe because she was Anne.

26

Chapter 6

In the competition of a lifetime, the quiet moments

matter most. Anne portrayed this; she believed that
the pen was mightier than the rockwell he chucked.
She slide-tackled Mr. Sullivan and wrote various incantations (the next passages of her manuscript) all
across his body. The quill tickled Mr. Sullivan, making
him giggle in a tizzy. She used conductive ink and
wrote the rest of her manuscript in a programmatic
code so that she could encode her future conditional
behaviors right into Mr. Sullivan. This enabled her
exact intentions and passions to flow through her
pens nibs to the inks electric currents, penetrating
Mr. Sullivans inner soul, forever allowing her safe
passage into her next body. She brought him into the
inner Toymakers Shop and used all the doll supplies
he had, fashioning him in her own image.
After the mercurial conductive ink memo27

ry-wrapped every orifice of Mr. Sullivans body, it

consumed his face and cascaded down his throat into
his innards, with Mr. Sullivans eyes being surprised.
Alls well that ends well, but all was not said and
done with. Still wanting that Childrens Home Video
made about her life, she know that she would need
to control Coraline doll with all her might, and if that
meant taking over Mr. Sullivan, then that was a risky
risk she was willing to takey take.
Pulling from her smock pocket, she found a spoon
that welted in awareness of her presence as she held
to her face for reflection. She scooped a dollop of conductive ink and spooned it into Mr. Sullivans mouth.
Her electrical charge ignited a reanimation incident
inside of his lifecycle.
She dove head first into Mr. Sullivans gaping
mouth, in a fit to control his willpower. Anne manipulated his hand towards the doll wigs, his hand awkwardly squirming its way towards her destination.
Latching onto the wig tangle, the grip cusped the hair
onto this ma's head. The began toiling with ribbons
and swatches at the sewing press to replicate her attire for her increased sizing. She wrangled with sheets
of fabric so that she could have the dress that she had
always wanted. With swirling conductive ink shrink
wrapping, spinning fast around this mans body, it
was hard to interpret if the clothes fit properly. Anne
controlled the body to look over at Coraline grin-gig28

gling.
Was Coraline still roping her in? If anything, Anne
was now more trapped that she ever was. Lets both
become the same person! Anne exclaimed, and they
squished.

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30