TKLVR181
Level of Lemon Feather
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2005
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Hey guys. Just a little bit of fun I had with a character when he realized he was fiction😉 Enjoy!
~K
“Nobody! Where’s that coffee!”
“Right away, Mr. Moneybags, sir!” Joe Nobody exclaimed, rushing yet again to the coffee maker for the umpteenth time today. For a moment he reflected how supplying his boss with an endless supply of coffee might not be wise for one of his position, but at the moment he had no choice. He dumped the preferred four tablespoons full of sugar into the cup and brought it in.
“About bleep time, Nobody! Now will you PLEASE go finish those reports I asked you for ten minutes ago!?”
“Right away, Mr. Moneybags, sir.” Nobody muttered as he stepped out of his boss’s office. He hated his desk job. He hated his boss. He hated his life!
Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember much of his life. He blinked a few times; the first thing he could ever remember doing was answering Moneybags about his coffee. “What tha’…”
“Oh crap,” a feminine voice that seemed to come from nowhere boomed.
Nobody jumped a foot high. “W-who’s there?” he asked. Suddenly he realized he was alone in the office.
“I’m the author. I’m writing your story. You weren’t supposed to realize you’re fiction.”
"Fiction, am I?" Nobody asked. "You mean to tell me you’ve just…thought me up? Out of nowhere? How rude! And you’re the authoress; you should be able to keep me from knowing! I was perfectly happy in my own little life!”
“No you weren’t,” the authoress objected, “you were just thinking about how much you hate your life!”
“And whose fault is THAT?”
There was a startled silence, followed by Nobody speaking again. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Miss Goddess Authoress, I was terribly rude and I beg your humble forgiveness. HEY! You can’t make me say things!”
He could hear the smirk in her voice. “Stop me.”
“I most certainly can not! I’m a perfectly helpless little rodent in your wondrous maze, and I wouldn’t have it any other way! DAMMIT!”
There was a cruel feminine laugh. “Are you going to behave now?”
“I most certainly will not! You’re an uncontrollable child, madam, and I am an adult and I intend to do everything within my power to stop your little tiRADE!” this last part was shouted…his rear end had suddenly caught fire.
He immediately dropped to the ground, rolling around the floor. The fire wouldn’t go out. Moments later the sprinklers activated, putting out his aft-ended flames. He stood up and shook himself off…apparently he was none the worse for wear. “I suppose you think that was funny, you little upstarted brat of an auth…”
The scene abruptly changed. He discovered he was on a grassy plain, most probably somewhere in the heart of Africa. And there was a herd of gorillas rushing him from a nearby thicket.
And not just any gorillas, no. These gorillas were dark purple with flaming red eyes. And there were bullets flying out of their fingertips.
Nobody suddenly found himself running for his life. Bullets were whizzing past his ears at, well, bullet speed, and he could find nothing to do about it but run. He burst through a thicket of trees.
And found himself on a plane of complete white. It was like he was on a black page…he had never seen anything like this before.
He panted. “A…alright…*wheeze* can…we make…a…truce?”
“Why would I want to truce with you? I’m enjoying myself!”
“Because you’re running me completely ragged is why! I can’t keep this up much longer!”
“Of course you can,” she replied, “if I say you can. And I say you need to entertain me for just a little while longer….dance!”
Suddenly he was in an old Mexican west with a sombrero on and clogs.
“Hai!” he exclaimed, as the mariachi band started up and he began a complicated-looking mix between a clog dance and a Mexican hat dance. Within seconds he was panting. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could dance…his knees felt like they were going to fall off. Sweat poured down his face.
DING! “Damn!” the authoress cursed.
“What?” Nobody asked, panting.
“That’s the bell. I have to stop writing now.”
“But if you stop writing, do I cease to exist?” Nobody asked anxiously.
“For the moment, but don’t worry, I’ll be back after dinner. We’ll have much more fun.” With that, the authoress shut down word and went off to dinner, leaving Nobody in suspension. For a while.
~K
“Nobody! Where’s that coffee!”
“Right away, Mr. Moneybags, sir!” Joe Nobody exclaimed, rushing yet again to the coffee maker for the umpteenth time today. For a moment he reflected how supplying his boss with an endless supply of coffee might not be wise for one of his position, but at the moment he had no choice. He dumped the preferred four tablespoons full of sugar into the cup and brought it in.
“About bleep time, Nobody! Now will you PLEASE go finish those reports I asked you for ten minutes ago!?”
“Right away, Mr. Moneybags, sir.” Nobody muttered as he stepped out of his boss’s office. He hated his desk job. He hated his boss. He hated his life!
Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember much of his life. He blinked a few times; the first thing he could ever remember doing was answering Moneybags about his coffee. “What tha’…”
“Oh crap,” a feminine voice that seemed to come from nowhere boomed.
Nobody jumped a foot high. “W-who’s there?” he asked. Suddenly he realized he was alone in the office.
“I’m the author. I’m writing your story. You weren’t supposed to realize you’re fiction.”
"Fiction, am I?" Nobody asked. "You mean to tell me you’ve just…thought me up? Out of nowhere? How rude! And you’re the authoress; you should be able to keep me from knowing! I was perfectly happy in my own little life!”
“No you weren’t,” the authoress objected, “you were just thinking about how much you hate your life!”
“And whose fault is THAT?”
There was a startled silence, followed by Nobody speaking again. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Miss Goddess Authoress, I was terribly rude and I beg your humble forgiveness. HEY! You can’t make me say things!”
He could hear the smirk in her voice. “Stop me.”
“I most certainly can not! I’m a perfectly helpless little rodent in your wondrous maze, and I wouldn’t have it any other way! DAMMIT!”
There was a cruel feminine laugh. “Are you going to behave now?”
“I most certainly will not! You’re an uncontrollable child, madam, and I am an adult and I intend to do everything within my power to stop your little tiRADE!” this last part was shouted…his rear end had suddenly caught fire.
He immediately dropped to the ground, rolling around the floor. The fire wouldn’t go out. Moments later the sprinklers activated, putting out his aft-ended flames. He stood up and shook himself off…apparently he was none the worse for wear. “I suppose you think that was funny, you little upstarted brat of an auth…”
The scene abruptly changed. He discovered he was on a grassy plain, most probably somewhere in the heart of Africa. And there was a herd of gorillas rushing him from a nearby thicket.
And not just any gorillas, no. These gorillas were dark purple with flaming red eyes. And there were bullets flying out of their fingertips.
Nobody suddenly found himself running for his life. Bullets were whizzing past his ears at, well, bullet speed, and he could find nothing to do about it but run. He burst through a thicket of trees.
And found himself on a plane of complete white. It was like he was on a black page…he had never seen anything like this before.
He panted. “A…alright…*wheeze* can…we make…a…truce?”
“Why would I want to truce with you? I’m enjoying myself!”
“Because you’re running me completely ragged is why! I can’t keep this up much longer!”
“Of course you can,” she replied, “if I say you can. And I say you need to entertain me for just a little while longer….dance!”
Suddenly he was in an old Mexican west with a sombrero on and clogs.
“Hai!” he exclaimed, as the mariachi band started up and he began a complicated-looking mix between a clog dance and a Mexican hat dance. Within seconds he was panting. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could dance…his knees felt like they were going to fall off. Sweat poured down his face.
DING! “Damn!” the authoress cursed.
“What?” Nobody asked, panting.
“That’s the bell. I have to stop writing now.”
“But if you stop writing, do I cease to exist?” Nobody asked anxiously.
“For the moment, but don’t worry, I’ll be back after dinner. We’ll have much more fun.” With that, the authoress shut down word and went off to dinner, leaving Nobody in suspension. For a while.
