Joe Comes To Terms

Joe willed it to end. He was done. Let the train crush him. Let his life be over. He had learned his lesson. He would never p*ss off another narrator. From now on, if his life was given to him, he would bow down and let the narrator write the gay romance he'd been dreaming of for days.

"I didn't p*ss you off! I was just put in the wrong should have picked an appropriate character. And as for bowing down...cue the train, mate."

Little did he know, Joe was about to receive something much greater than a train.

"Good. Have at it," said Joe in utter defeat.

The train was approaching, a steel bullet hurtling one hundred tons of freight at Joe's limp and tired body. He only had six seconds to dive out of the way.

"I'm counting!"

Joe looked up to face his death, and yet at the same moment, his life began to flash before his teary eyes.

"I don't see anything flashing! All I see is a manky writer, relying on his dullard of a wife for encouragement as he hacks his way through a thwack of paper in an attempt to bring the English language to shambles!"

                                                   * * * *

It is now time to explain something behind Joe's back.

"I'm still listening!"

                                        * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now we are free.

"How much time has passed now anyhow? I thought I heard something about six seconds..."

                      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Far, far away in a distant land...

"Mate, you can't escape me. If you want to tell the reader something, you have to do it in front of me."

Joe abruptly passed out...

"Hey, now that isn't fair! I have a right to...mmm...num-num-num ...blah..." Joe's head hit the ground as he fell into a deep sleep.

While he slept, a gathering of writers were chuckling to themselves and slapping their thighs because, though Joe didn't know it, and he never would, he was part of an elaborate joke.

Joe woke up. The first thing he realized was that the train was still coming. It had been slightly delayed but now it was going to take six second to get to him.

"You graceless twit."

The train continued without a pause, but Joe's muscles were frozen in fear and for some reason, he could not move an inch.


And then, from out of the dark of the night, swinging on a vine, Davy came soaring to the rescue wearing only a muscle shirt and boxers, his huge biceps straining to save his beloved.

Joe was helpless in the face of the train, the metal grate coming to sweep him up like the slamming of a coffin lid. And then his fingers met those of Davy's and they gripped each other's hands tightly. Joe was lifted from the tracks just in time, and the two men landed in a heap together in the soft grasses of the meadow beyond.

"Get off of me, you dimwit!" Joe cried out like a damsel in distress.

Davy rolled over in the wild flowers and fixed a loving gaze upon Joe. "I saved you!" he said gallantly.

Joe attempted to spit on the ground in disgust but it looked more as if he was pursing his lips for a kiss.

Davy smiled.

"Don't even think about it," Joe said.

Davy pouted.

"Wait..." Joe suddenly said in a suspiciously thoughtful voice as if he had just come up with a really stupid idea.

"I have a fabulous idea," he said naively. "No, really," he added in vain. "I'm not kidding," he added in desperate make-believe.

Davy frowned. "What's your idea?"

"I know how to take control of this story..."

Joe had no clue what he was talking about, but Davy listened politely all the same.

"All I have to do is find a computer..."

Joe's idea was completely far-fetched and retarded, but he felt like fantasizing only to soothe his weak heart.

"...And then I have to sign up for this whole writing thing..."

Joe was mumbling incoherently now...

"...And then I can write my own chapter!"

Suddenly gaining a burst of passion, Davy rolled toward Joe with an approaching kiss!

"Back off or I will bloody well kill you when I get a hold of this chapter!" roared Joe.

Davy was left no options and he turned away, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

Joe, on the other hand, smiled maniacally. He was feeling clever for his idea. He felt as if had had gained some fantastic insight. He felt as if  he was on the right track. But as fate would have it, Joe had no clue what he was getting himself into.

Things were only about to get a hundred times worse...

The End

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