Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's back to work I go...

01/10/14: The Last Hurrah

The world watched and waited in fear. Soldiers garrisoned major cities, fleets were deployed to the seas, politicians retreated to their bunkers. Conspiracy theorists raced to and fro, showing off their sandwich boards proclaiming that the world was about to end.

They awaited the arrival of Halloween Unspectacular 4.

Every time a Halloween Unspectacular arrived, chaos and trouble followed. Cities were destroyed, minds were lost, time was wasted.

Now, by executive order of the United Nations, the world was uniting to stop this chaos. This was Operation GOODFIC, an initiative to prevent Halloween Unspectacular from ruining the world with its hackneyed plots and its whim-based lunacy. It cost billions – it was the first time humanity had ever united against a common threat.

But there was one thing that the planners of GOODFIC did not anticipate. It would leave their plan in tatters and waste billions in tax-payer money.

For in the intervening year between the arrival of 3 and 4, E350 had bought a printer.

I was standing next to my printer, whistling to myself as I waited for the last page to print. Once it was out, I picked up the completed anthology and shoved it in a pile next to my bookshelf with all the other Halloween Unspectaculars.

I waltzed over to my computer, singing quietly to myself.

"One fic more...another 'shot, another mystery...this never ending road to infamy..."

I stood up, signing louder.

"And yes I know that didn't rhyme, but sir I just don't have the time, one day more..."

"So wait, we're doing One Day More?" sang Danny.

"How will I live when this is ended?" I sighed, pointing to the computer, "One fic more..."

"I think there's someone at the door," said Danny.

"We did much more than I expected," I lamented.

"One more hour on the porch," sang Plankton, standing outside in the cold.

"Will I ever surpass this?" I asked.

"When will he answer his doorbell?" demanded Plankton.

"I was born to write this schlock!" I sang.

"My antenna are freezing off," grumbled Plankton.

"I don't know a rhyme for schlock," I muttered.

"Will somebody let me iiiiiinnnnnnn?!" shouted Plankton.

"One more fic before the end!" proclaimed Sam, walking into the room.

"Do I do a Fiddly Thing?" I quizzed, scratching my chin.

"When the arcs shall all be finished!" added Sam.

"Maybe robots will be cool?" I wondered.

"He'll probably kill a lot of friends!" warned Sam.

"P'rap's a shot about a pool?" I suggested.

"But when it's done we shall be freeeeeee!" thundered Sam.

"The time has come, the end it nears!" sang a chorus that had arrived outside my window.

"One fic more!" I shouted.

"One fic more until it's ended," said Tucker, walking in with his arms behind his back, "We shall get through and survive, we'll be ready for his twists and we shall make it through alive."

"One fic more!"

"Watch him run amok," sang Statler.

"Mock him when he falls," sang Waldorf.

"That's the only reason we are here at all!" both sang.

"Here a little fail," sneered Waldorf.

"There a little bomb," cackled Statler,

"Do-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho ho-ho ho ho ho!"

"One fic to a new collection!" everyone sang.

"Raise the flag of fanfic high!" I called, jumping onto the table.

"Every man will leave reviews!" shouted Danny.

"Every man will leave reviews!" the crowd repeated.

"There's some new hits for the winning!" called Sam.

"There's some new fics to be won!" chanted the crowd, "Do you hear the reviews sing?!"

"My place is here!" sang Timmy, jumping onto the table, "I write with you!"

"One fic more!" I shouted.

"Tomorrow it will all be done," sang Danny.

"Tomorrow we shall end our run," sang Tucker.

"Tomorrow we'll discover what our critics have in stooooooorre!" everyone shouted.

There was a short pause.

"One more day!" I sang, "One more fic!"

"OOOOOONNNEE FIIIIIIIC MOOOOOOOOOORRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE!"

A cannon (or perhaps a car backfiring) fired outside.

"...well, I got carried away with that one," I admitted.

I sat down.

"So, as per the contest this year," I said, "This is the last one, so it has to be special. This time, I'm not asking you to write four oneshots – I'm asking you to write one four-shot with one, single theme – Ending. That's it, no length restrictions, no content restrictions, just that. Entries are due in by November 10, give and take my propensity for delays. Good luck!"

I reclined in my chair.

Then I blinked and looked around.

"All of you people get out of my house."

Yeah, I had to do something special for the last introduction.