I know I have other stories out, but I felt like this one was too good of an idea for me to bottle up. I don't do fanfictions on real people, but these characters were inspired by Jack, Mark, and Felix too closely for me to call this original content. So, here you go, FanFiction world! For you!
Felix Hatchet Vonlanden sat in his office one Tuesday morning. His fingers dashed over the keyboard splayed out before him, and his pale blue eyes darted across the screens covering his line of sight. The deadline for his news article was within the hour, but he had yet to submit a word! His problem was not laziness, but over-productiveness. Vonlanden saw over half a dozen events within the past week with the intention of reviewing one. After tossing some ideas around, he finally resolved to write articles for all of them and let the editor decide which was best. Honestly, who could choose between the football game versus the baseball tournament, or the ballet versus the theatre performance? Felix was a soul who appreciated all forms of talent, and he reveled in the extreme diversity of performance. Finally completing his task, Felix sent them all to his editor and threw himself back in his favorite wheelie chair.
That ought to do it! The journalist congratulated himself on a job well done. Right in the nick of time, too.
Doctor Mark Smith Jameson grabbed the forceps from the tray next to him. His dark brown eyes were trained on the patient as he maneuvered the scalpel with an expert hand. Sweat beaded his brow as he reached the most difficult parts of the surgery.
"Doctor," the nurse said timidly.
"Be quiet" the doctor muttered, timing his movements with every breath.
"But, Doctor, the vitals…" she persisted.
"Shut up, nurse!" he exclaimed, "I know what I'm doing!" Deftly, he stitched up the patient just before it was too late.
How Ms. Valdera got a PVC pipe in her ribcage was still beyond him, but thankfully he got it out without serious damage to the patient. Looking at the miniature saw he used for the operation, he considered keeping one in his usual repertoire. Those extra minutes retrieving it could have meant life or death for the patient. Jameson removed his gloves and mask. Checking his watch, he noticed it was nearly lunchtime.
That ought to do it! The surgeon congratulated himself on a job well done. Right in the nick of time, too.
Sean Jeffrey Taylor strode urgently through the airport. Sunglasses hid his eyes as he swaggered up to the woman at a desk. Giving his name as Jack Henry Nichols, he boarded the assigned flight and kicked back in his seat. Reviewing the necessary objectives, Taylor wondered what his contacts would say about his plans. They were a little crazy, he admitted, but then again, it was a crazy mission to begin with. First, he had to pick one of them up and bring him to the third.
Once his flight landed, "Mr. Nichols" resolved to make a good first impression on his new teammates. Noticing a head of sand-colored hair, he recognized his first contact. For some reason, the contact entered a taxi cab and left. How to follow him? "Jack" took in his surroundings and saw a pair of youths—a boy and a girl—preparing to enter another taxi of their own, struggling to pick up their abnormal amount of luggage. The door was wide open.
That ought to do it! The secret agent congratulated himself on a job well done. Right in the nick of time, too.
Obviously, I'm not a slave owner, so I do not own Pewdiepie, Markiplier, or Jacksepticeye.
I wonder if they might read this someday? Who knows...Oh, dear, I hope they like it :/.