A short little... something I banged out in ten minutes. It's really stupid and it's supposed to be funny.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!!

Olive Snook was in a very bad position. It was so bad, in fact, that she was seriously considering walking out of the Pie Hole and never ever coming back, not even for Ned.

You see, for the past few weeks, she had been hearing voices.

Well, not many voices. Technically it was just one voice. But sometimes the voice would talk to itself, mimicking different tones and accents and pitches. One day Olive thought she even heard the voice pretending to be her.

But no, it wasn't the voice that bothered her the most. It was the fact that Ned and Chuck and everyone else who came into the Pie Hole didn't seem to notice… or care, if they did notice.

But that wasn't all.

The voice wasn't just at the Pie Hole. It was everywhere. It followed her home, out on the street, and even followed her out of Chuck's aunt's house.

This voice was making Olive grow more and more paranoid. She started to look over her shoulder before going into rooms, and refused to change her clothes in any other room than the four foot by four foot broom closet beside her kitchen. She also refused to shower naked.

But even with all these precautions, nothing helped. She was still terrified that the man who the voice belonged to would eventually show himself and do whatever it was he wanted with her.

So we have come full circle, to the day in question, when Olive had decided that enough was enough.

"I'm taking five," she yelled over her shoulder as she exited the Pie Hole, leaving a very confused Chuck and a very nonplussed Ned in her wake. Running her fingers through her messy hair, Olive let out a groan of annoyance.

Picking up her pace, she ran across the street before the light had a chance to turn red. Reaching the other side safely, she began to calm down. She had not heard the voice yet, which was saying something. Turning her stride down behind the coffee shop opposite the Pie Hole, she sat down on the pavement, her back resting on the brick siding of the building.

Olive Snook was perturbed, and the Pie-Maker wondered why. Did it have something to do with Chuck's aunts? It had been long since Olive had learned the truth about Chuck, that she had not died…

"Leave me alone!" Olive cried, attracting the attention of several passers-by in the street adjacent.

She ran her fingers through her hair again, this time rather desperately.

"What do you want?" she whispered. "Am I schizophrenic? Who are you?"

Oh, are you talking to me?

For the first time, the voice had addressed her. At least, she thought it had addressed her. It had lost its cool, narrative tone and was instead sounding puzzled. Olive took pleasure in this before saying, a moment later, "Yes. Who's there?"

Well, I… I'm not at liberty to say.

Now the voice sounded very uncomfortable. Had he been under the impression that she could not hear him? That must be so, for he continued,

I didn't know anyone could hear me.

"Well, I can," Olive said, cross. "You've been following me around for weeks, and it's become very annoying. Is it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet?"

I'm sorry, ma'am. You see, I heard about a narrative job from my agent, and it sounded like the perfect opportunity for me, now that the biggest project I've ever undertaken is over.

"A job?" Olive was very cross now. "Who put you up to this? Have there been cameras following me around, watching to see what I'll do when I hear you talking?"

Oh, no! Of course not. I think you misunderstand me. I'm not here to follow you around. I'm here to narrate a story. You just happen to be able to hear me all the time.

"Oh," Olive's face twisted into a look of confusion. "Well, that's kinda inconvenient."

I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to scare you at all.

"It's okay," Olive assured the man, for he did sound genuinely sorry. "I forgive you. Just please stop narrating all the time, if you can."

I'll drop the job. Or at least clean up the bugs, or whatever's causing this problem.

"Out of curiosity, what was your big project you just finished?" Olive now thought that this man was very friendly for someone who she's thought was a stalker.

Give me a minute, I'll come talk to you.

"But you are talking to me…"

I mean face to face.

"Oh…"

Olive sat for a few minutes, wiling away the time by humming a tune from her favorite musical ('Dancing Through Life' from Wicked) and tapping her fingers on her knees in time to the music. She had started to wonder if this mystery narrator would ever appear when she caught sight of someone walking towards her.

"Olive?" he asked. His voice sounded just like the narrator's: calm and engaging, with an English accent.

"Yes?" she stood up, so as to see the man better. He looked to be middle aged, and wore a white collared shirt.

"Hello," he held out his right hand. "My name is Jim Dale."

From that day forth, Olive never heard the voice again. Unfortunately, that means there is no longer a narrator for Pushing Daisies, which means Jim lost his job. Thousands of fans stopped watching the show, deeming it no good without the man who brought Harry Potter to life before Daniel Radcliffe killed him.

Admit it, the only reason you watch Pushing Daisies (or tuned in for the first episode) was because Jim Dale narrates it. That's what got me started!!

And apologies to any Daniel Radcliffe fans. I'm not one of you... sorry...