A Grumble's Author

You are about to enter a world where reality and fiction collide. Perhaps it was wrong for me to have created this world, but what can you do? I've grown fond of it. Within its boundaries I can pick, choose, and change what I will. This world and its purpose revolves around these four young people. I created them, with no specific purpose in mind, late at night. Perhaps this can explain their behavior. Perhaps you'd prefer to invent your own. But there's no denying it. This is a world where logic is irrelevant. Where the basic laws of physics are defied each day. A world in which the seed of hope has been planted. Who are these four people, you may ask, what are they going to do? What the hell was this author on when she wrote this?? The answers to these questions, and many more, shall all be revealed within.

Enter if you dare. But, to retreat is futile. You, dear reader, have selected this story, and now you shall read it. I can give you but one piece of advice: do not drink the blue water.

Our story begins on a randomly selected day, sometime in the near future. Or, perhaps it is the past? You see, we're all quite mad here. So, I do not see the difference that time makes. Shall we stay in Wonderland and find out how deep the rabbit hole goes? Or shall we follow the Cheshire cat back to reality? Where's the fun in option two? Shall we continue?

* * *

"I am not paranoid!"

"Dude, you are so beyond paranoid. Give it up."

"If you two don't shut up, I'll be forced to use the lighter."

Three people were walking to nowhere in particular with a fourth gliding at the rear. Three of them were discussing the possibility of their shoes being bugged; the fourth was bugging their shirts.

The first was a strong supporter of the impossible. He enjoyed defying rules and taking long walks on hot coals. If you were to choose just one word to describe him, you'd have to pick a very odd dictionary to select it from. Many people thought that he was insane, but he simply did not have common sense. At all. Perhaps this explained how he could do the impossible. Or maybe it just never occurred to him to be logical. His name was Tobias, but a select few could call him Joe.

The second was a very tall girl who always wore skirts. Very rare was the occasion that found her without a smug smile. If you were unfortunate enough to get her upset, you'd walk away emotionally scarred for life. And no amount of therapy would be able to save you. It was very difficult to decipher what she was thinking, and this awkward feeling was worsened by the fact that she always knew what was on your mind. She did not look it, but she was possibly the most dangerous being on her planet. Her name was Irene, and she liked to wear skirts.

The third person was in a constant struggle for power. If there was a stupid thing to be done, you could count on her to do it. Although she had more gizmos than everyone else put together, she was completely clueless as to how to utilize their powers. Although she was excoriated on a daily basis, she didn't seem to mind; she knew it was all in fun. She was named for a queen and was possible the biggest ditz within a hundred miles. Again, she didn't seem to mind. It all made sense to her. Her name was Guinevere Maria, but if you called her that she'd give you a really weird look. Gwen was prone to look like a badger when she tried to disturb you.

Finally, we reach Catherine. She enjoyed floating and confusing others. She was generally quiet, but if she wanted to, could go on for hours. She was sought out for her strange philosopher-like advice which was often a random string of words referring to nature in some way. Under the wrong circumstances she could be considered a freak. Under the right ones, the reputation stuck. But seriously, she was a good kid, just a bit distant. Or at least, that was her parents' excuse.

On this fateful day, during this fateful jaunt to nowhere, these four would have their destinies revealed to them.

* * *

"You want us to do what????" Joe exclaimed at the top of his voice.

"Yo, daddy-o, it's all cool," said the strange man from underneath his beret. "Just do like I say, and the possum will be free to roam."

"I do believe that's my phrase," Catherine said quietly. "And the possums shall only frolic when you-" At this point Catherine said many things that shall not be written here, as I would only be forced to censor them anyway.

The "hip cat" as he called himself tapped out a groove on his bongos. "Word from upstairs, you know? Can you dig your assignment or shall you live your life in those dark woods?"

"Listen, punk," Gwen shouted, trying to gain some bonus points, "I don't care who you've been sent from, I am not gonna-"

"Silence, mortal fiends!" Suddenly a great bolt of lightning thundered, if lightning can thunder, from the clear sky and fried Gwen to a neat medium rare. "You shall do whatever your master commands of thee!" A second bolt made its point. "For was it not I who created you for this divine purpose? You shall do my bidding or perish beneath my "delete" button!"

"The day of judgment has come!" Joe screamed, throwing himself to his knees. "The author, the author. We must do as she says!"

"Oh, no," Irene said sighing, "And I told Joe the author didn't exist." There was a long moment's silence as everyone starred at Irene. She suddenly got the feeling that she shouldn't have admitted that,

"You did?" A third lightning bolt bolted from the sky and disintegrated Irene on the spot.

"Ow," said the grease spot that was Irene.

"Now do as Mr. Cat commands!" And, just as quickly as it had come, the awesome power of the writer disappeared from the heavens.

* * *

Gwen sighed from her position on the street corner and asked the same question for the hundredth time. "Would you like to purchase a copy of 'Hero In The Shadows'?"

* * *

Yes, perhaps I was too egotistical when I created this world and those who inhabit it. I never did answer the questions as I promised to. Oh, well. Some things can't be helped. But let this be a lesson to you non-believers; Oni holds power over all her characters. Those who do not believe shall be cooked to a crispy "well-done". And above all things, remember: Never underestimate the power of really tired authors in large groupings.

~Oni