An old man sat at a cluttered desk, reading a fantasy novel. This one was good: interesting plot, well-developed characters, unique plot devices; it didn't rip off Tolkien's version of Elves; and the power of magic was kept steady, not being too weak to save a character's life one moment then being so powerful it could save the universe the next.
He set the book down, lovingly marking the page he had just finished. Work had to be done. He picked up the memo someone had thrown onto his desk when he was in the middle of chapter five, and read.
TO: CLICHÉ CLEAN-UP CREWS
A cliché break-in took place in the Fantasy Sector 911.
Subject for extermination: Oreh Cigart (tragic hero spelled backwards)
Charges made against him: Sucking the life, logic, and plot from a story
Risk: Character is aware of LOGIC spies. He will try to use the CCC in his evil plans.
Request emergency clean up.
"Another day, another dollar," he mumbled, picking up his brief case and putting on his hat. "Alright, I'm ready." He held the memo before him. The word LOGIC flashed red, and the old man disappeared. The memo drifted to the floor, tracing a crazy figure eight in the air.