When Writer's Block Turns Bad
So... What Now?
"Do you think the plan worked?" This was from Mr. Blobby.
Cursing the day that he had been forced to work with this incompetant, Johnny answered: "How am I supposed to know? That Doctor is a genius... we can't depend on anything slowing him down..."
"What about the other one? Ep... Eppie? Ebony?"
"Eponine."
"Eponine, then. Funny name, that."
"It's French."
"Still funny, though."
"Are you going to get to the point at any point in the future, or is that future point too distant to be detected?"
"...Huh?"
"Forget it."
"Well, I was saying why don't we target Eponine instead of the Doctor?"
"Why don't we... actually, that's sheer genius! Genius in its ignorant simplicity!"
"Does that make me a genius?"
"It makes you an ignorant simpleton."
"Oh."
"Anyway, what are we going to do then?" asked Blobby.
Johnny paused for thought. After a few seconds, he came up with an Idea. It was a brilliant Idea, genius, really, and in no way simplistic.
"I have concucted a strategy," he declared.
"You've... con-what?"
"I've got a plan, you fool!"
Blobby blobbed for a few seconds, in an extra-thoughtful way. Finally, he decided on a relevant question. "What's the plan?"
"We get our Author to send a copy of Les Miserables (abridged, or she'll never get to the end of it) to Eponine, and she'll read about her death. Hopefully she'll be so traumatised she'll never make it to the moon!"
"Ok..."
"Author person!" yelled Johnny. "Did you hear that? Can you send a copy of Les Mis to Eponine?" He lowered his voice. "Can she actually do that?"
"I think so."
"OK then. Ooh, look, we've arrived!"
They had indeed arrived. The Piece Hall looked slightly... different. For one thing, several of the windows were smashed. The two walked towards Tourist Information.
"The leaflets... they're gone," said Blobby, in an awed voice. "Ooh, a piece of string dangling from the ceiling!"
"Blobby, you fool, don't pull that, it's a tr-"
Too late. The idiot had gone and pulled the string. Johnny waited for a few seconds, glancing around the room. Nothing. Maybe they were safe.
"EXTERMINATE!"
On the other hand, it looked as if they were far from safe.
Cursing the day that he had been forced to work with this incompetant, Johnny answered: "How am I supposed to know? That Doctor is a genius... we can't depend on anything slowing him down..."
"What about the other one? Ep... Eppie? Ebony?"
"Eponine."
"Eponine, then. Funny name, that."
"It's French."
"Still funny, though."
"Are you going to get to the point at any point in the future, or is that future point too distant to be detected?"
"...Huh?"
"Forget it."
"Well, I was saying why don't we target Eponine instead of the Doctor?"
"Why don't we... actually, that's sheer genius! Genius in its ignorant simplicity!"
"Does that make me a genius?"
"It makes you an ignorant simpleton."
"Oh."
"Anyway, what are we going to do then?" asked Blobby.
Johnny paused for thought. After a few seconds, he came up with an Idea. It was a brilliant Idea, genius, really, and in no way simplistic.
"I have concucted a strategy," he declared.
"You've... con-what?"
"I've got a plan, you fool!"
Blobby blobbed for a few seconds, in an extra-thoughtful way. Finally, he decided on a relevant question. "What's the plan?"
"We get our Author to send a copy of Les Miserables (abridged, or she'll never get to the end of it) to Eponine, and she'll read about her death. Hopefully she'll be so traumatised she'll never make it to the moon!"
"Ok..."
"Author person!" yelled Johnny. "Did you hear that? Can you send a copy of Les Mis to Eponine?" He lowered his voice. "Can she actually do that?"
"I think so."
"OK then. Ooh, look, we've arrived!"
They had indeed arrived. The Piece Hall looked slightly... different. For one thing, several of the windows were smashed. The two walked towards Tourist Information.
"The leaflets... they're gone," said Blobby, in an awed voice. "Ooh, a piece of string dangling from the ceiling!"
"Blobby, you fool, don't pull that, it's a tr-"
Too late. The idiot had gone and pulled the string. Johnny waited for a few seconds, glancing around the room. Nothing. Maybe they were safe.
"EXTERMINATE!"
On the other hand, it looked as if they were far from safe.
♠ ♠ ♠
I actually got Emma to type this chapter up (although the ideas were mine). She just had to include Daleks...