This is a notification telling YOU, gentle reader, that several guest authors will, for the first time, post in The Non-Sensical Tale Of The Jackster!
"Wow, that's amazing!" I hear you exclaim. "Who's writing this chapter?"
Me, of course.
"But you said..." You would probably say at this moment, your voice drooping with disappointment. Cease worrying, the guest chapters shall come at least a week after this one, sooner if possible.
We now return to your regularly scheduled story.
After his fight with the Mad Max knockoff, Jack found a nice place to stay, scared the previous occupant away, and fell asleep.
Among the dreams he had of homicidal penguins and garbages, there was a flash of light that seemed to come from another dimension. In his dream, Jack was floating in a void, and this light seemed to be in the centre of everything.
Jack moved closer to the light, and suddenly there was a flash, the light disappeared.
He woke up covered in sweat, with a single word imprinted into his memory. He felt the urge to write down the word lest he forget. There was a desk in his newly stolen room, with several sheets of paper and a few pencils on it.
The memory was slipping away like a vapour.
Jack grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil as fast as he could, and wrote the word.
He looked at the word again, to make sure he got it right, and nodded to himself.
Feel like eating Oreos today, Jack thought.
The door of the convenience store dinged as Jack walked inside.
The cashier, an old, balding man who seemed out of place in a convenience store, decided to ignore Jack's appearance (lopsided hair from just waking up, sweaty clothes) in case he was a customer. It seemed unlikely, since he was wandering around the store for two hours without actually buying anything, but there was still a chance.
The cashier cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"Yes, you can. Help me look for the Oreos," Jack said without looking up from the shelf he was searching.
"I'm afraid we're out, sir," the cashier said uncertainly.
"Out?" Jack repeated the word as if he hated it.
"Yes sir, but don't worry, we'll get a new shipment-"
Jack grabbed the cashier and pushed him against the wall.
"You're LYING!" he yelled.
The cashier swallowed nervously. His old wound from the Vietnam War was playing up (he had tripped down a flight of stairs on the way to the battle). There was only one way he could get out of this.
"Why, yes, you're right," the cashier said. "I am lying. How resourceful of you."
"You underestimate me," Jack replied. "I knew what was going on the moment I saw you and your disguise."
The cashier brought his hand to a point just over his hairline, and ripped his face off. Of course, the face turned out to be a mask, and when it was ripped off, it revealed another mask, this time of the ninja persuasion.
"I'm assuming you were sent to assasinate me," Jack said coldly.
"Why? I never did anything to the ninja clan."
"You murdered a whole bunch of ninjas earlier in this book," the ninja reminded him.
Jack sighed. "Kill a few people, and they never let you forget about it," he said.
"Well, your ninja-killing days are over! I am the best of my dojo, and I have been sent to stop your reign of destruction!"
Will Jack survive this encounter? Of course he will, but you're probably wondering about the hilarious manner in which he survived it. You shall find out AFTER the guest chapters! Or at least during. Don't whine. Instead, appreciate the writer for not studying for his final exam just to write a new chapter.