Character Assassination

Ben sits down to write.

Character Assassination

Our story opens with an old man who is sitting and typing furiously. He is blindly committing multiple typos and misspellings. But he's preparing to write a short story, the ideas have begun to flow, and he's hurriedly trying to get them down on paper before they've vaporized.

As he does, characters begin to form in some netherworld of his imagination. A young scientist, a woman, is about to become a main character, which is somewhat out of character for this particular author. It will be, in many ways, unlike anything he's written before. She will be a heroine who will save the day. No wait, she's going to save the planet, perhaps...unless it will be destroyed by her well-meaning efforts. Ha, maybe all of humanity will be destroyed with her. It's still undecided.

He's generated an antagonist who will try to redirect the talents and efforts of an entire civilization away from her goals, goals that as a fantastic young scientist bent on salvation for humanity, could otherwise rescue us all. The antagonist, becoming conscious in this newly-created existence, was not at all happy about that.

“This is bullshit!” he cried. “I've got talents! In any other story, under any other circumstances, I might have been the hero. This writer must have had a lousy supper or something. Stomach must be upset. And I get to pay for it! Why can't he save me for a different scenario entirely?”

“I'll tell you why,” the young woman replied firmly, “You'll have the name of a man he doesn't particularly like. In real life, out there, the idiot you are based on, is a flaming asshole. He used to come around wearing preppy short-shorts, trying to hit on our writer's wife. Now he's a jeezus-freak going door-to-door,  trying to convert the whole neighborhood. Rubs our creator the wrong way, every time. And since that guy is an asshole, you are an asshole!! It wouldn't matter what the story was about!”

“Not so fast.” An older scientist stepped into the brightening bubble that was their own small sphere of existence. “I'm the reasonable, experienced, responsible dude who sets the stage for this whole tale. I can see things the rest of you don't because I am older and have seen so much. And I think I know more about this writer, too.”

“That's pure crap!” cried the antagonist. “You just got here! She and I were talking and you just materialized. You probably don't even know what we were discussing!”

“Not true,” replied the older scientist. “Whatever you two know, I know as well. We all came from the same place, that's one man's imagination. Anyway, you shouldn't worry about a thing. This story is going to go wherever he takes it, and our roles will be clearly laid out.”

“Ha, not so and you know it! If you know what I do, that is.” The antagonist grimaced. “He believes the story itself takes over. At this point in time, even he doesn't know how it will end!”

“I wonder,” the young woman considered, “during the times I'm not taking part in whatever scene is being described, will I cease to exist? Or will I be able to go off somewhere and enjoy myself? Take a warm bubble bath, or hit a bar, get drunk and leave with strangers, whatever I want?”

“Feeling frisky, are we?” The older scientist shook his head. “Look at what we know so far. If anything, the only thing you'll likely be doing is working furiously. Forever, if this story is any good.”

“And if it isn't?” snarled the antagonist, “The guy might be some rank amateur for all we know. Maybe we'll just go down on paper, flat, two-dimensional creatures in a lousy story, and then he forgets about us and croaks? I want out. This is bullshit!”

“I'm thinking like the old guy, there,” our young scientist purred. “I can tell he likes me already. Probably just as much as he doesn't like you, which is a lot! But I'm feeling pretty good about the the setup in this story. Yes, it agrees with me. He's even thought of a turn of events that includes you, can you feel it?”

“I don't give a shit,” Moore sniffed. “Oh yeah, now I've got a name! Now I know the name of that asshole! Now I don't like him either! Hey, look at the ridiculous typos this turkey's having to fix!”

“Listen up,” the older gentleman offered. “Your life is what you make it. You will live as well as you choose to live. However long, however short, its still up to you how you will live it.”

Moore thought about that. Ha. They'd been there for hours, they still hadn't eaten, and he just felt a sharp pain in his backside, as if someone had kicked him. “Yeah, right!!” he exclaimed. It's not that way when you exist at the mercy of somebody's imagination. Somebody who may not even like you!

"He'll probably kill me off."

Nearly as fast as the speed of thought, structures grew right out of the pavement around the three of them. A clear protective dome formed overhead, and the air turned foul outside of it.

Their long ride had just begun.

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