AC Coda X
November 19th, 2006, 09:27 PM
Yo, yo, reader!
It is me,
ACC,
come to make you smile
Read this fic,
(ain't this rhyme scheme slick?)
and stop to review it a while.
Seriously folks, based on popular demand I have collected twenty more random phrases and placed them in a story- but this time, I'm going to go a little farther. What you see here is the beggining of the story of my (fanfic style) life at hom, complete with crazy Pokemon, angry trainers, ninja lawyers, and various references to my other fanfics. This first part is a prologue of sorts, introducing three of our recurring characters, starting with Char, who is based off of my first Pokemon gameboy style. And this time, I didn't make any Dannichu references, although she did once write a humor series about her Pokemon house-sitting for her... but that has nothing to do with this one, actually, other then making me go so crazy with laughter that I was able to write this thing through to the end.
Enjoy, and review!
Note: Allergic to Insanity? Don't read this.
The Mad Phrases:
1. They’re bulletproof!
2. I ought to tell you- I was married once before.
3. This isn’t an episode of DBZ, is it?
4. Quick- what’s your name and social security number?
5. Hey kid- I can do kung fu.
6. Dang! Why won’t this game load?
7. If I say tomato...
8. If a Diglett bit me, would you save my life?
9. Good morning, Eddie.
10. What? ____ is evolving! Dun, dun; dun, dun....
11. Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!
12. ACC had better not screw up this fanfic.
13. I’ve got a jar of di-irt, I’ve got a jar of di-irt...
14. The piggy is oinking!
15. Where, oh where has my little dog gone....
16. This fanfiction will self-destruct the minute I say ____. How do you like me now?
17. You can’t say that! It’s unconstitutional!
18. I demand a refund!
19. When it rains, ninjas do not get wet. The rain gets ninja’d.
20. I know you’re out there. I can sense your energy level.
The Charizard continued his flight through the air. How he loved the rush of it- air flowing over his dragon-like wings, across his reptilian head and body, and fanning the gleaming flame at the end of his tail. It was so relaxing, just soaring through the air, knowing that today; he wouldn’t have to film another episode of that idiotic show...
“Verdammt! I’m so going to murder the director for this!” the giant dragon growled angrily as he stared at the message that had just appeared on the screen of his tiny cell phone, which looked understandably out of place in his enormous claw. “dr chrzrd: get 2 set now. hry.” With a roar of pure anger, he swooped downward, changing direction swiftly and aiming himself for the set of the TV show he wished he had never agreed to perform in. He had been just a Charmander at the time, and completely ignorant of what being a character in that series meant. Now, however, he was much older and wiser, and knew what he was getting into every time he walked onto that set. A world of fershluginer suffering, agony, and poor writing and directing, that’s what. And worse, he couldn’t even curse about it, as it was a children’s asterisk, pound sign, percent sign, and exclamation point show. If he attempted to curse even off the job, he would generate even worse publicity- but then again, bad publicity might get the show canceled, and that director would be out of work. Or better yet, he could get fired. Of course, he would be out of work, but he was sure he had enough money from royalties to live off of- then again, he might not. At this point it was better to play it safe until he got the chance to sue that freak and then-
Oh, joy.
A grin spread across his foreboding features, and in spite of all the troubles he had gone through under this contract, he couldn’t help laughing at the mental image of him torching that verdammt director once and for all. The flaming dragon landed inside of the small city where he made his keep, and began to walk on all fours toward the set. There, in the director’s chair, sat the one Pokemon in the world that could make his blood, which usually remained the same temperature at all times, raise itself six degrees or more. He often wondered why he didn’t boil alive from the inside, in fact. Those cute little pointed yellow-and-black ears, that lightning bolt tail- they made him sick to his stomach. One day, he knew, he was going to break free of the “non-aggression clause” of his contract, and then-
Oh, bliss.
He continued moving towards the outdoor set, breathing out small puffs of flame in his ecstasy at the thought of his revenge. He didn’t care- he never paid attention to those “Don’t smoke on the set” signs. He was fairly sure that Surrel or one of the other water Pokemon from the cast had put them up anyway. As he continued to move towards the small stage, he thought about all of the idiotic things he had to put up with in this line of work- long hours, extremely limited dialogue, and ,of course, the evil director. Oh, the day would come when he would break free of this show, but for now, he had to deal with them. Still, nothing in his contract said he had to be a nice guy about it. Stalking up to the disgustingly cute little mouse, he snarled “Good morning, Eddie. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, actually, I did Char old boy. I have a question for you that could make a huge difference on this show.” Edward the Pikachu responded in that annoying oxford accent. Char hated the English accent. It made that idiotic rodent sound smarter then he really was.
“And that would be?” Char growled in a low, deep voice. Mentally, he was already counting to ten thousand, the logic being that if he needed to count ten to calm himself down in front of his friends, on hundred for his acquaintances and coworkers, and a thousand for people he downright hated, ten thousand would definitely be needed for a freak like Eddie.
“Where, oh where has my little dog gone....” sang Eddie, as he removed a palm pilot from the opened briefcase beside him and started typing in random words.
Char couldn’t believe it. Eddie was dumb, and a jerk, and a horrible director, but he wasn’t THAT incredibly idiotic! He really couldn’t have just called him on his day off to an emergency meeting on the set just to ask a totally unintelligible question with absolutely no point. “Come again?” he asked, in a malevolent tone of voice that called to mind images of complete and utter destruction.
“Oh nothing, it’s just that I completely forgot what I was going to ask you, m’lad.” The Pikachu replied, as he began mashing buttons on the palm pilot. “Dang, why won't this game load?" he muttered.
“Sir, that’s a palm pilot, not your gameboy. If you don’t know what you wanted to ask me, can I go?” Char hurriedly asked, hoping to escape the set without doing anything that he might regret when he got into court.
“Oh heavens no! My question is much too important to leave until tomorrow. Just wait around the set with the other cast members until I remember what it was in the first place, old friend. But thank you about reminding me about my gameboy. Where is that cursed thing?” exclaimed the rodent, still using his annoying “oxford professor” voice as he scrambled through the contents of his briefcase in a frantic search for his game.
Resisting the urge to scream and commence destruction of the electric rat in front of him, Char pointed one of his claws at the small, purple object sitting beside the Pikachu before moving as quickly as possible towards the nearby cast trailers, praying that he wouldn’t snap completely before the day was out. Being forced to hang out on the set on his day off was cruelty! He would sooner fly into a black hole then voluntarily spend a minute more hanging out on the set then was required for his job. With a low, rumbling growl he wrenched open the door of the dining trailer, which was packed with cast and crew members, and began to search for a vacant table. As long as he was forced to stay here, he might as well grab some breakfast.
“Yo, Char! Over here!” I called, waving.
The large dragon stopped, and then directed his gaze at me. “Who the (expletive) are you?” he asked, “and how did I just curse?”
“You, my dear Char, are a character in my latest fanfiction. I am ACC, the almighty, eccentric, skull-wearing author who brought you into being. I am currently in a slump as far as ideas go, so I just sort of wrote you into a situation that could turn out funny. I wanted you to know, however, that I intend to give you a happy ending, so you won’t attempt to kill me like my last humor fic character did.” I explained, passing him the sheet of paper containing my last insane fanfic.
He stared. The giant dragon couldn’t believe it. A puny human author wearing a Cubone skull had written him into being and was now bargaining for his won safety? “Prove that you wrote me.” He finally said, returning the paper.
“I don’t have to. Everyone else already knows. Look at those two Bulbasaur over there.” I responded, pointing to the two bulb-like Pokemon sitting directly behind me.
“Boy, I sure hope this story turns out better then that pitiful attempt at humor ACC made in ‘The Chronicles of Ryou: Erratic’.” The first one, obviously a male, said, before taking a big bite out of his breakfast pizza.
“Yeah, really, ACC had better not screw up this fanfic,” agreed his companion, a smaller female Bulbasaur. “Hey, I just said a random phrase! Alright!” she giggled, before making a clumsy attempt to kiss her older friend, who immediately blocked her lips with one of his vines.
“We’re only romantically interested during the plot of a TV show. Remember?” the older Bulbasaur asked, staring angrily at the younger female in front of him.
“Sorry- guess I got carried away.” The younger Bulbasaur responded, hanging her head.
“Hey, don’t cry. If you want, I can say something really random and end this fanfiction faster so we can get to work.” The older Bulbasaur responded, looking at the younger one with a gaze of compassion.
“Which one?” she asked, staring at him with wonder in her eyes.
The older Bulbasaur squared his back, stood up, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “THEY’RE BULLETPROOF!”
“Oh, Bubba...” the smaller Bulbasaur asked, staring at him, “why can’t we fall in love for real?”
“Well, there’s kind of a reason for that...” said Bubba, nervously twiddling his toes.
“And it would be?”
“I ought to tell you- I was married once before.”
“WHAT!?!?”
“Yeah. To that Chikorita from the other fanfic’s mother. She was really good looking...” Bubba said dreamily.
I quickly drew a curtain over the entire scene by writing in a soundproof room, which the female Bulbasaur promptly dragged Bubba into. I decided to leave it at that, as I felt that the less character death I was involved in, the better chance I had of surviving my own fanfic. “Now do you believe me?” I asked Char, staring into his eyes- or rather, his eye. He was looking at me sideways. I hate it when people look at me sideways. It always means that they're about to murder me.
Char considered this turn of events. It was all just too unbelievable. Two of his coworkers just talking about random phrases and fanfiction? It wasn’t possible. “No. I still don’t believe you. Tell me who you really are.” He demanded, hoping that this slightly demented looking human would say something that would restore his belief that this was all real.
“But I thought I proved that this was all a fanfiction?” I asked, staring in disbelief at my own character.
“You-you could’ve paid them to say that. Bubba is always short on cash. Tell me who you are, before I bite your head off!” roared Char, as fire dripped from his jaws. He brought his head as close as possible to my body before launching a flamethrower directly over my head, nearly singeing my Cubone skull headdress.
I backed away, removing my list of mad phrases. I hated having to bring about the end of the fanfic so soon, but it wasn’t a good idea for me to allow this fanfiction to continue if I was going to get killed. I immediately yelled at the top of my lungs “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”
Immediately, a group of lawyers wearing ninja weaponry jumped out from behind various areas of the dining trailer, including one who simply leaped out from behind Char, pulled out a briefcase, then leapt three feet into the air and landed behind me. “Hey kid, I can do kung fu.” He said, before shoving a copyright sheet in front of me. I stared at it- from what I could make out, it apparently said that “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu” was trademarked to Masashi Kishimoto and could not be used in any works of fanfiction except those that pertained to his series, and if I didn’t do something right away I was going to get lawyer-ninja’d. I thought quickly, then removed my handy-dandy back story sheet and wrote in the one thing I could think of that could save me now.
As Char stared at the ninja-lawyers, a great rage began coursing throughout his body. Before he had time to identify its cause, he had already thrown several lawyers through the windows of the trailer, and torched the one who was currently threatening me. By the time he remembered that he had an irrational hatred of lawyers, which is what I had written in, most of them were already out cold, and the one remaining lawyer was being squeezed against the wall by Len’s bonemerang, which I had borrowed after the end of “The Insane Fanfic of Dooom”. I love bonemerangs. They make me feel like some sort of gung-ho Marowak.
I continued to squeeze the evil nin-lawyer against the wall. “What happens to a ninja when it rains?” I asked, applying more pressure to the giant bone that was currently pushing the lawyer's ribcage into the wall.
No response from nin-lawyer man.
I pushed harder. “Come on, I know you’re out there. I can sense your energy level.” I muttered.
“This isn’t an episode of DBZ, is it?” he gasped.
I leaned against the bone until I heard the man’s ribcage begin to pop. “Just answer the fershluginer question! What happens to a ninja when it rains?” I admonished.
Finally, my pasty-faced foe cracked. “When it rains, ninjas do not get wet. The rain gets ninja’d.” he wheezed, before I released the pressure, letting him fall to the ground.
Char continued staring at me in awe. “ACC, how is it that you can do all of this?” he finally asked. “I mean, logically, if you are a character in your own fanfiction, isn’t doing all of this effectively turning yourself into a Gary-Stu character?”
I met his gaze. Admittedly, I hadn’t expected a question like that. “I really don’t know, Char. I suppose that since I’m the author and I’m also paranoid, I’m not perfect... and technically, this is a humor fic, so that doesn’t matter as much. But still- dangit, why did you have to ask me something like that! I’m going to go nuts-nuts-nuts! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!” I shouted, before succumbing to the burst of insanity within my brain.
I should have warned Char- if there is anything I hate, it is a question I cannot effectively answer. My crazier side released itself, then reached for the papers containing the fic, and began to write.
“Hey, ACC? I was just asking if-,” Char managed to say before a giant pickle crashed into the ceiling of the building. “What the heck?” he yelled, before the nin-lawyes leapt to their feet, pulled off their masks, and revealed themselves to be the Insane Society of Fanfic Authors, who began dancing a jog throughout the entire fanfic. Since they were insane, they could obviously do anything and get away with it, even dance a jog, which isn’t a dance at all but a leisurely run.
I didn’t care. Char’s comment had pushed my sanity off of the edge, and I was writing randomosity like crazy. Cows flew through the sky. Gary Larsen began drawing The Far Side again. Simon Morgenstern beat William Goldman over the head for cutting out parts of his books. Stephen King began to sing “Oh Christmas Tree”. Large waterfowl turned into harpies and began eating James Bond, who yelled “I’m a radish, I’m a radish! I’ve got a jar of di-irt, I’ve got a jar of di-irt....”
“Englishman In New York” began to play, as a message appeared below the screen of the fanfic: “What? ACC is evolving! Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun..... Congrats! ACC evolved into a better author!” I smiled and kissed it, and it ran off to go play checkers with Eddie, who was still playing his gameboy and oblivious to the whole thing. “The piggy is oinking!” I shouted, before running around and around the giant insane mess I had created.
Char stared at the ground. It was his fault- he had knocked me off the brink of insanity, and now there was going to be the devil to pay for it. No one could possibly save this hopeless muddle of a story now-unless... his eyes traveled to his foot, where the list of mad phrases had conveniently become stuck. He peeled it off, before shouting out the first two that became apparent to him, “You can’t say that! It’s unconstitutional! I demand a refund!”
Immediately, my partial sanity returned, and I erased all mention of overly random things in the story. Immediately, all out of place objects and characters vanished. “Keep saying those phrases before I have a relapse!” I yelled, “And whatever you do, don’t say ______”
“If you say what?” he called back.
“______! If you say ______!” I replied.
“But how can you say ______? ______ isn’t even a word!”
"I don't know, but you're saying it!"
"Oh, sure. This fanfiction will self-destruct the minute I say ____. How do you like me now?"
“No! You Fool! Too late- you said it! We’re all doomed!” I yelled, as the fanfic exploded around us, and the papers containing it turned to ash in my hands..
We landed in my room back in the real world. “Well, now you’ve done it.” I said to my character, who had landed on my bed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You said ______ and blew the fanfic up! Now I can’t end it! I guess if we say some random phrases, like 'If I say tomato', I can stop writing, but how am I going to explain you to my parents? ‘Oh hi Mom, this is Char, a random character from my latest humor fic!’ What do you think she’ll do?” I yelled, beating the wall.
“How do you explain wearing a Cubone skull and running around with a brown cloak to her?” Char asked, rolling off of the bed.
“Don’t ask.... I'll just go insane again. You know, I suppose I could just say you were from my older fics....”
“Older fics?”
I opened my bedroom door, revealing a large amount of Pokemon cleaning. “Older fics.” I said, pointing at them. “They all just didn’t work out, so I ended the fic and then they came here. Mom wishes I’d stop doing that. She says we have enough problems in this crazy house without insane Pokemon.”
Char’s jaw dropped. “So, what do I have to do to stay here?” he managed to ask, attempting to get over his shock.
“Quick-What’s your name and social security number?” asked Alakazam, as he appeared behind me. I waved him off with a “not now” signal, before addressing Char’s question. “Nothing- just help around the house and try not to barbecue the neighbors.”
Char nodded, and started to walk out the door, before turning back to me. “Hey, ACC?”
“What?”
“What was that question Eddie was going to ask me?”
I grabbed the charred remains of the fanfic, before reading off “If a Diglett bit me, would you save my life?”
Char’s eyes narrowed. “That was it?”
I nodded.
“AUGH! IF HE WAS HERE, I’D KILL HIM!” Char roared, sending a stream of flames directly towards my midriff. I nimbly dodged aside, before leaping up and whispering something into his ear. His eyes widened, and then contracted. “Where is he?” he breathed. Mutely, I pointed towards the swivel chair in the center of my room, where Eddie continued to play his gameboy, oblivious to what was going on around him.
“You know, I think your contract blew up with the rest of the fanfic...” I said, my voice trailing off as Char strode toward Eddie, a demonic grin stretching across his features. I prudently decided to end the scene by simply walking out of my room and closing the door, pausing only to hang up a sign reading:
THE END (for now....)
How do you like me now? I wish I did live in a house with my Pokemon- in the next 'chapter', look for the appearance of:
My parents
My evil living sicence project
A few old fanfic characters
Really crazy mad phrases
Now remember children, if you want ACC to improve his writing, review, review, and review some more!
Excelsior!
-ACC
It is me,
ACC,
come to make you smile
Read this fic,
(ain't this rhyme scheme slick?)
and stop to review it a while.
Seriously folks, based on popular demand I have collected twenty more random phrases and placed them in a story- but this time, I'm going to go a little farther. What you see here is the beggining of the story of my (fanfic style) life at hom, complete with crazy Pokemon, angry trainers, ninja lawyers, and various references to my other fanfics. This first part is a prologue of sorts, introducing three of our recurring characters, starting with Char, who is based off of my first Pokemon gameboy style. And this time, I didn't make any Dannichu references, although she did once write a humor series about her Pokemon house-sitting for her... but that has nothing to do with this one, actually, other then making me go so crazy with laughter that I was able to write this thing through to the end.
Enjoy, and review!
Note: Allergic to Insanity? Don't read this.
The Mad Phrases:
1. They’re bulletproof!
2. I ought to tell you- I was married once before.
3. This isn’t an episode of DBZ, is it?
4. Quick- what’s your name and social security number?
5. Hey kid- I can do kung fu.
6. Dang! Why won’t this game load?
7. If I say tomato...
8. If a Diglett bit me, would you save my life?
9. Good morning, Eddie.
10. What? ____ is evolving! Dun, dun; dun, dun....
11. Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!
12. ACC had better not screw up this fanfic.
13. I’ve got a jar of di-irt, I’ve got a jar of di-irt...
14. The piggy is oinking!
15. Where, oh where has my little dog gone....
16. This fanfiction will self-destruct the minute I say ____. How do you like me now?
17. You can’t say that! It’s unconstitutional!
18. I demand a refund!
19. When it rains, ninjas do not get wet. The rain gets ninja’d.
20. I know you’re out there. I can sense your energy level.
The Charizard continued his flight through the air. How he loved the rush of it- air flowing over his dragon-like wings, across his reptilian head and body, and fanning the gleaming flame at the end of his tail. It was so relaxing, just soaring through the air, knowing that today; he wouldn’t have to film another episode of that idiotic show...
“Verdammt! I’m so going to murder the director for this!” the giant dragon growled angrily as he stared at the message that had just appeared on the screen of his tiny cell phone, which looked understandably out of place in his enormous claw. “dr chrzrd: get 2 set now. hry.” With a roar of pure anger, he swooped downward, changing direction swiftly and aiming himself for the set of the TV show he wished he had never agreed to perform in. He had been just a Charmander at the time, and completely ignorant of what being a character in that series meant. Now, however, he was much older and wiser, and knew what he was getting into every time he walked onto that set. A world of fershluginer suffering, agony, and poor writing and directing, that’s what. And worse, he couldn’t even curse about it, as it was a children’s asterisk, pound sign, percent sign, and exclamation point show. If he attempted to curse even off the job, he would generate even worse publicity- but then again, bad publicity might get the show canceled, and that director would be out of work. Or better yet, he could get fired. Of course, he would be out of work, but he was sure he had enough money from royalties to live off of- then again, he might not. At this point it was better to play it safe until he got the chance to sue that freak and then-
Oh, joy.
A grin spread across his foreboding features, and in spite of all the troubles he had gone through under this contract, he couldn’t help laughing at the mental image of him torching that verdammt director once and for all. The flaming dragon landed inside of the small city where he made his keep, and began to walk on all fours toward the set. There, in the director’s chair, sat the one Pokemon in the world that could make his blood, which usually remained the same temperature at all times, raise itself six degrees or more. He often wondered why he didn’t boil alive from the inside, in fact. Those cute little pointed yellow-and-black ears, that lightning bolt tail- they made him sick to his stomach. One day, he knew, he was going to break free of the “non-aggression clause” of his contract, and then-
Oh, bliss.
He continued moving towards the outdoor set, breathing out small puffs of flame in his ecstasy at the thought of his revenge. He didn’t care- he never paid attention to those “Don’t smoke on the set” signs. He was fairly sure that Surrel or one of the other water Pokemon from the cast had put them up anyway. As he continued to move towards the small stage, he thought about all of the idiotic things he had to put up with in this line of work- long hours, extremely limited dialogue, and ,of course, the evil director. Oh, the day would come when he would break free of this show, but for now, he had to deal with them. Still, nothing in his contract said he had to be a nice guy about it. Stalking up to the disgustingly cute little mouse, he snarled “Good morning, Eddie. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, actually, I did Char old boy. I have a question for you that could make a huge difference on this show.” Edward the Pikachu responded in that annoying oxford accent. Char hated the English accent. It made that idiotic rodent sound smarter then he really was.
“And that would be?” Char growled in a low, deep voice. Mentally, he was already counting to ten thousand, the logic being that if he needed to count ten to calm himself down in front of his friends, on hundred for his acquaintances and coworkers, and a thousand for people he downright hated, ten thousand would definitely be needed for a freak like Eddie.
“Where, oh where has my little dog gone....” sang Eddie, as he removed a palm pilot from the opened briefcase beside him and started typing in random words.
Char couldn’t believe it. Eddie was dumb, and a jerk, and a horrible director, but he wasn’t THAT incredibly idiotic! He really couldn’t have just called him on his day off to an emergency meeting on the set just to ask a totally unintelligible question with absolutely no point. “Come again?” he asked, in a malevolent tone of voice that called to mind images of complete and utter destruction.
“Oh nothing, it’s just that I completely forgot what I was going to ask you, m’lad.” The Pikachu replied, as he began mashing buttons on the palm pilot. “Dang, why won't this game load?" he muttered.
“Sir, that’s a palm pilot, not your gameboy. If you don’t know what you wanted to ask me, can I go?” Char hurriedly asked, hoping to escape the set without doing anything that he might regret when he got into court.
“Oh heavens no! My question is much too important to leave until tomorrow. Just wait around the set with the other cast members until I remember what it was in the first place, old friend. But thank you about reminding me about my gameboy. Where is that cursed thing?” exclaimed the rodent, still using his annoying “oxford professor” voice as he scrambled through the contents of his briefcase in a frantic search for his game.
Resisting the urge to scream and commence destruction of the electric rat in front of him, Char pointed one of his claws at the small, purple object sitting beside the Pikachu before moving as quickly as possible towards the nearby cast trailers, praying that he wouldn’t snap completely before the day was out. Being forced to hang out on the set on his day off was cruelty! He would sooner fly into a black hole then voluntarily spend a minute more hanging out on the set then was required for his job. With a low, rumbling growl he wrenched open the door of the dining trailer, which was packed with cast and crew members, and began to search for a vacant table. As long as he was forced to stay here, he might as well grab some breakfast.
“Yo, Char! Over here!” I called, waving.
The large dragon stopped, and then directed his gaze at me. “Who the (expletive) are you?” he asked, “and how did I just curse?”
“You, my dear Char, are a character in my latest fanfiction. I am ACC, the almighty, eccentric, skull-wearing author who brought you into being. I am currently in a slump as far as ideas go, so I just sort of wrote you into a situation that could turn out funny. I wanted you to know, however, that I intend to give you a happy ending, so you won’t attempt to kill me like my last humor fic character did.” I explained, passing him the sheet of paper containing my last insane fanfic.
He stared. The giant dragon couldn’t believe it. A puny human author wearing a Cubone skull had written him into being and was now bargaining for his won safety? “Prove that you wrote me.” He finally said, returning the paper.
“I don’t have to. Everyone else already knows. Look at those two Bulbasaur over there.” I responded, pointing to the two bulb-like Pokemon sitting directly behind me.
“Boy, I sure hope this story turns out better then that pitiful attempt at humor ACC made in ‘The Chronicles of Ryou: Erratic’.” The first one, obviously a male, said, before taking a big bite out of his breakfast pizza.
“Yeah, really, ACC had better not screw up this fanfic,” agreed his companion, a smaller female Bulbasaur. “Hey, I just said a random phrase! Alright!” she giggled, before making a clumsy attempt to kiss her older friend, who immediately blocked her lips with one of his vines.
“We’re only romantically interested during the plot of a TV show. Remember?” the older Bulbasaur asked, staring angrily at the younger female in front of him.
“Sorry- guess I got carried away.” The younger Bulbasaur responded, hanging her head.
“Hey, don’t cry. If you want, I can say something really random and end this fanfiction faster so we can get to work.” The older Bulbasaur responded, looking at the younger one with a gaze of compassion.
“Which one?” she asked, staring at him with wonder in her eyes.
The older Bulbasaur squared his back, stood up, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “THEY’RE BULLETPROOF!”
“Oh, Bubba...” the smaller Bulbasaur asked, staring at him, “why can’t we fall in love for real?”
“Well, there’s kind of a reason for that...” said Bubba, nervously twiddling his toes.
“And it would be?”
“I ought to tell you- I was married once before.”
“WHAT!?!?”
“Yeah. To that Chikorita from the other fanfic’s mother. She was really good looking...” Bubba said dreamily.
I quickly drew a curtain over the entire scene by writing in a soundproof room, which the female Bulbasaur promptly dragged Bubba into. I decided to leave it at that, as I felt that the less character death I was involved in, the better chance I had of surviving my own fanfic. “Now do you believe me?” I asked Char, staring into his eyes- or rather, his eye. He was looking at me sideways. I hate it when people look at me sideways. It always means that they're about to murder me.
Char considered this turn of events. It was all just too unbelievable. Two of his coworkers just talking about random phrases and fanfiction? It wasn’t possible. “No. I still don’t believe you. Tell me who you really are.” He demanded, hoping that this slightly demented looking human would say something that would restore his belief that this was all real.
“But I thought I proved that this was all a fanfiction?” I asked, staring in disbelief at my own character.
“You-you could’ve paid them to say that. Bubba is always short on cash. Tell me who you are, before I bite your head off!” roared Char, as fire dripped from his jaws. He brought his head as close as possible to my body before launching a flamethrower directly over my head, nearly singeing my Cubone skull headdress.
I backed away, removing my list of mad phrases. I hated having to bring about the end of the fanfic so soon, but it wasn’t a good idea for me to allow this fanfiction to continue if I was going to get killed. I immediately yelled at the top of my lungs “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”
Immediately, a group of lawyers wearing ninja weaponry jumped out from behind various areas of the dining trailer, including one who simply leaped out from behind Char, pulled out a briefcase, then leapt three feet into the air and landed behind me. “Hey kid, I can do kung fu.” He said, before shoving a copyright sheet in front of me. I stared at it- from what I could make out, it apparently said that “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu” was trademarked to Masashi Kishimoto and could not be used in any works of fanfiction except those that pertained to his series, and if I didn’t do something right away I was going to get lawyer-ninja’d. I thought quickly, then removed my handy-dandy back story sheet and wrote in the one thing I could think of that could save me now.
As Char stared at the ninja-lawyers, a great rage began coursing throughout his body. Before he had time to identify its cause, he had already thrown several lawyers through the windows of the trailer, and torched the one who was currently threatening me. By the time he remembered that he had an irrational hatred of lawyers, which is what I had written in, most of them were already out cold, and the one remaining lawyer was being squeezed against the wall by Len’s bonemerang, which I had borrowed after the end of “The Insane Fanfic of Dooom”. I love bonemerangs. They make me feel like some sort of gung-ho Marowak.
I continued to squeeze the evil nin-lawyer against the wall. “What happens to a ninja when it rains?” I asked, applying more pressure to the giant bone that was currently pushing the lawyer's ribcage into the wall.
No response from nin-lawyer man.
I pushed harder. “Come on, I know you’re out there. I can sense your energy level.” I muttered.
“This isn’t an episode of DBZ, is it?” he gasped.
I leaned against the bone until I heard the man’s ribcage begin to pop. “Just answer the fershluginer question! What happens to a ninja when it rains?” I admonished.
Finally, my pasty-faced foe cracked. “When it rains, ninjas do not get wet. The rain gets ninja’d.” he wheezed, before I released the pressure, letting him fall to the ground.
Char continued staring at me in awe. “ACC, how is it that you can do all of this?” he finally asked. “I mean, logically, if you are a character in your own fanfiction, isn’t doing all of this effectively turning yourself into a Gary-Stu character?”
I met his gaze. Admittedly, I hadn’t expected a question like that. “I really don’t know, Char. I suppose that since I’m the author and I’m also paranoid, I’m not perfect... and technically, this is a humor fic, so that doesn’t matter as much. But still- dangit, why did you have to ask me something like that! I’m going to go nuts-nuts-nuts! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!” I shouted, before succumbing to the burst of insanity within my brain.
I should have warned Char- if there is anything I hate, it is a question I cannot effectively answer. My crazier side released itself, then reached for the papers containing the fic, and began to write.
“Hey, ACC? I was just asking if-,” Char managed to say before a giant pickle crashed into the ceiling of the building. “What the heck?” he yelled, before the nin-lawyes leapt to their feet, pulled off their masks, and revealed themselves to be the Insane Society of Fanfic Authors, who began dancing a jog throughout the entire fanfic. Since they were insane, they could obviously do anything and get away with it, even dance a jog, which isn’t a dance at all but a leisurely run.
I didn’t care. Char’s comment had pushed my sanity off of the edge, and I was writing randomosity like crazy. Cows flew through the sky. Gary Larsen began drawing The Far Side again. Simon Morgenstern beat William Goldman over the head for cutting out parts of his books. Stephen King began to sing “Oh Christmas Tree”. Large waterfowl turned into harpies and began eating James Bond, who yelled “I’m a radish, I’m a radish! I’ve got a jar of di-irt, I’ve got a jar of di-irt....”
“Englishman In New York” began to play, as a message appeared below the screen of the fanfic: “What? ACC is evolving! Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun..... Congrats! ACC evolved into a better author!” I smiled and kissed it, and it ran off to go play checkers with Eddie, who was still playing his gameboy and oblivious to the whole thing. “The piggy is oinking!” I shouted, before running around and around the giant insane mess I had created.
Char stared at the ground. It was his fault- he had knocked me off the brink of insanity, and now there was going to be the devil to pay for it. No one could possibly save this hopeless muddle of a story now-unless... his eyes traveled to his foot, where the list of mad phrases had conveniently become stuck. He peeled it off, before shouting out the first two that became apparent to him, “You can’t say that! It’s unconstitutional! I demand a refund!”
Immediately, my partial sanity returned, and I erased all mention of overly random things in the story. Immediately, all out of place objects and characters vanished. “Keep saying those phrases before I have a relapse!” I yelled, “And whatever you do, don’t say ______”
“If you say what?” he called back.
“______! If you say ______!” I replied.
“But how can you say ______? ______ isn’t even a word!”
"I don't know, but you're saying it!"
"Oh, sure. This fanfiction will self-destruct the minute I say ____. How do you like me now?"
“No! You Fool! Too late- you said it! We’re all doomed!” I yelled, as the fanfic exploded around us, and the papers containing it turned to ash in my hands..
We landed in my room back in the real world. “Well, now you’ve done it.” I said to my character, who had landed on my bed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You said ______ and blew the fanfic up! Now I can’t end it! I guess if we say some random phrases, like 'If I say tomato', I can stop writing, but how am I going to explain you to my parents? ‘Oh hi Mom, this is Char, a random character from my latest humor fic!’ What do you think she’ll do?” I yelled, beating the wall.
“How do you explain wearing a Cubone skull and running around with a brown cloak to her?” Char asked, rolling off of the bed.
“Don’t ask.... I'll just go insane again. You know, I suppose I could just say you were from my older fics....”
“Older fics?”
I opened my bedroom door, revealing a large amount of Pokemon cleaning. “Older fics.” I said, pointing at them. “They all just didn’t work out, so I ended the fic and then they came here. Mom wishes I’d stop doing that. She says we have enough problems in this crazy house without insane Pokemon.”
Char’s jaw dropped. “So, what do I have to do to stay here?” he managed to ask, attempting to get over his shock.
“Quick-What’s your name and social security number?” asked Alakazam, as he appeared behind me. I waved him off with a “not now” signal, before addressing Char’s question. “Nothing- just help around the house and try not to barbecue the neighbors.”
Char nodded, and started to walk out the door, before turning back to me. “Hey, ACC?”
“What?”
“What was that question Eddie was going to ask me?”
I grabbed the charred remains of the fanfic, before reading off “If a Diglett bit me, would you save my life?”
Char’s eyes narrowed. “That was it?”
I nodded.
“AUGH! IF HE WAS HERE, I’D KILL HIM!” Char roared, sending a stream of flames directly towards my midriff. I nimbly dodged aside, before leaping up and whispering something into his ear. His eyes widened, and then contracted. “Where is he?” he breathed. Mutely, I pointed towards the swivel chair in the center of my room, where Eddie continued to play his gameboy, oblivious to what was going on around him.
“You know, I think your contract blew up with the rest of the fanfic...” I said, my voice trailing off as Char strode toward Eddie, a demonic grin stretching across his features. I prudently decided to end the scene by simply walking out of my room and closing the door, pausing only to hang up a sign reading:
THE END (for now....)
How do you like me now? I wish I did live in a house with my Pokemon- in the next 'chapter', look for the appearance of:
My parents
My evil living sicence project
A few old fanfic characters
Really crazy mad phrases
Now remember children, if you want ACC to improve his writing, review, review, and review some more!
Excelsior!
-ACC