Final Fantasy VII and all related names and characters are property of Square.
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"So tell me again," said Cloud, "why are we here?"
"It's very simple," said Elena patiently, "this is a comedy fic, so all sense of time, plot and characterization has just gone out the window. Therefore we're all one happy family for the time being."
"And why do I have to act dumb? Sure, I don't really get this whole 'comedy fic' thing, but is that any reason for me to be cast as the oblivious one?"
"That's the standard role for you in comedy fics. What, you have a complaint?"
"Yes, I certainly do!"
"Then please direct it to the Author. She's up there, on that rickety scaffolding."
"Hey!" said the Author. "This is a throne, get it? I told you to call it a throne! Gosh, you people have no respect." She emphasized the point by waving her cardboard scepter around wildly. Unfortunately, this proved too much for the scaffolding, which promptly collapsed in a pile of sticks and kitchen twine. "Ouch... Hold on while I climb this tree, will you?"
"What is with your fascination with high places?" asked Elena impatiently. "Now, Cloud here has a complaint. He's been waiting very patiently for you to finish, so get on it, all right? Some author you are."
"Don't order me around, you lowly peon," said the Author from her uncomfortable perch in the tree. "I'll do what I want. Now what was it, Cloud?"
"Well," Cloud began, "I don't like how you've cast me as a dumb, oblivious character. And..." But at this point, the Author was attacked by a tribe of rabid flying squirrels, fell from the tree, and promptly died, coming back, of course, as a disembodied spirit.
"That's that, then," said Elena, poking the Author with her shoe. "Shall we get on with the story?"
"Hey!" said the Author, but as she was a disembodied spirit, nobody heard her.
"Why, certainly," replied Cloud, "for it's long past tea-time and we're running behind schedule." They left the random character conversation space and moved into the main body of the story to join their comrades... leaving the Author desperately trying to prevent the squirrels from eating her socks.
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Rebellion of the Random ~ A Final Fantasy VII Comedy!
"According to my research, sir," said Reeve, "you are only the fourth most resurrected character in fanfiction, not the second. Plus, in 40 percent of these fanfics, you eventually become a sympathetic character, and only 27 percent of the others cast you as a completely cold, heartless villain."
"Damn!" said Rufus, pacing up and down behind his desk. "My reputation has seriously gone down the drain ever since the game ended. I need to do something to restore my image!"
"You could cultivate the habit of absent-mindedly throwing people out of top-floor windows," suggested Reeve helpfully. "I believe it has worked for several tyrants in the past."
"Our glass replacement costs are too high already. Besides, most of the people who really annoy me are too heavy to throw--"
"Well, sir," said Reeve, "that may be simply be because you're not quite--" Rufus gave him a look, and he subsisted. "Er, I'm told that other characters are not happy with the state of things, either -- perhaps we should call a meeting to see what they have to say?"
"Normally I would never agree to that, but since we are no longer bound by the rules of characterization, go ahead."
Reeve left to arrange things, and Rufus sat down and started on the massive pile of paperwork adorning his desk. Meanwhile, the Author, who was still a disembodied spirit, watched from outside the window, fuming at the presumption of mere video game characters -- to disobey her, the Author! Who did they think was the boss here -- the actual real-life person, or a bunch of fictional polygon-people? Yes, she would have to teach them a lesson.
But first -- how to become undisembodied? Ooh, that might be a problem.
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Some time later, Cloud, Aerith, Tifa, Barret, Cid, Yuffie, Vincent and Red XIII were sitting around in a meeting room, along with the Turks and Reeve. An uncomfortable silence prevailed for quite a while, until a head poked round the door:
"Reeve, the coffee machine's broken again," said Rufus.
"Sir, we've been waiting for three hours for you to come down! What's been happening all that time?"
"...Let's just say that Hojo's been at his artificial intelligence experiments again, and he -- well, the upshot is that I need someone to persuade the damn thing that there is no fingerprint identification necessary to get coffee, get back my second-best briefcase, which it confiscated as down payment for a triple cinnamon caramel mocha fudge frappucino, and turn it off so it'll stop shooting tranquillizer darts at anyone within two meters."
"Do you really need your coffee to start the meeting, sir?"
"Don't question me, Reeve, just fix the machine so it'll give me some coffee or you're fired."
Yuffie, who had been fidgeting in her chair and restlessly eating her ample supply of snack food, now shot up, waving a thermos around. "Wait wait! I've got some coffee right here! I'll sell it to you for... say... five hundred gil?"
"Done," said Rufus promptly, and handed over the money, snatching the thermos with the desperation of a coffee addict who has been deprived for nearly seven hours. "Aahhh... sweet nectar of life. Now then, where were we?"
"The problem with trends in fanfiction, sir," put in Reeve, and the others nodded in agreement.
"Right, so let's hear what is it exactly you have to complain about."
"I'm always dumb, a jerk, or boring," said Cloud.
"I never get to be sarcastic, tough, or strong, and I'm portrayed as a slut who doesn't deserve Cloud," said Aerith.
"I never get any really good scenes, I'm always pathetically indecisive and helpless, or I'm portrayed as a slut who doesn't deserve Cloud," said Tifa.
"I get counterintuitive and idiotic speech patterns, and no character development at all," said Barret.
"What?" mumbled Cid, who was half-asleep.
"I'm always a hyper, kleptomaniac brat," said Yuffie.
"I'm tired of being fan service and having cheesy monologues," said Vincent.
"I want more screen time, and not to be presented as a mere source of information or a housepet," said Red.
The Turks piped up, but Rufus cut them off with, "You shouldn't have any complaints. All fanfiction authors love you, it's a well-known fact."
Reeve didn't say anything, but no one noticed.
"Any ideas on how to fix this problem?" he said.
"We could stage a takeover of the main fanfiction sites."
"We could threaten death to anyone who writes bad stories."
"How about writing our own story?" suggested Cloud, showing considerable acuity for someone who was still struggling with the unfair designation of dumbness. "If we make it the best fanfic ever, we'll become well known and respected authors and be able to manipulate the conventions of fanfiction."
"Wonderful idea!"
"Wow, Cloud, I never knew you could be that smart. Must be all that fish you ate last week."
"*snore*"
"How are we going to do that, though? Aren't we kind of stuck in this story right now?"
"Well," said Cloud, now thoroughly enjoying his role as the man with all the answers, "what you all -- except Elena -- don't know is that the Author got killed up in the random character conversation space there." He pointed upwards, and all eyes in the room went to the space up at the top of the page, where the Author's body was still lying, surrounded by squirrels who were trying to pull off her socks. "So now we can take over, and become our own authors!"
"How does that work?"
"Simple. As long as you achieve the right state of mind, you can attain unity with the story, oneness with its very being; thus your will becomes reality in the malleable landscape of the proto-real. In order to be the Author, you must perceive the threads of consciousness that hold together characters, places, and times, and reach out to the..."
"Wow, that's... deep," said Yuffie, awed, and the rest of the listeners nodded in agreement. Tifa, though, was still squinting at the top of the page.
"Hey, guys..." she said.
"...an Author sees all through the glass of the plot; though structure is unnecessary in theory, the scaffolding of the mind..."
"Guys, that's a great theory and all, but I have a feeling it has more to do with that big "Author" badge she's wearing. See, one of the squirrels's got it and he's making piles of nuts appear."
"What? But that would mean only one of us... could be the Author..." Everyone looked at each other for a moment. Then all hell broke loose as they fought, scrabbled and kicked to be the first one to climb to the top.
"I saw it first!" said Tifa, elbowing Reno in the stomach as she clung to the edge of page two.
"I'm the one in charge here, you know!" yelled Rufus, attempting to shake off Elena, who had a death grip on his leg.
"Mmf?" said Cid, who was still asleep in his chair. Reno lost his grip on page two and fell straight down, knocking off Barret, Tseng and Aerith, who then fell on top of Cid, giving him a rude awakening.
"Hey! This isn't fair!" complained Red XIII from the bottom of the last page. "I can't scale vertical inclines!"
Yuffie had clawed her way to the lead; she kicked off Reeve, who collided with Rude, knocking him off as well. Panting, she climbed up over the edge of the random character conversation space and charged the squirrels in posession of the badge with a heated "Yahhhhh!"
Three seconds later, she fell back over the edge, accompanied by a shower of nuts and yelling "&*$@% squirrels!" on her way down. She managed to grab Vincent's cloak as she fell, screeching, "If I can't get the badge, neither will you, angst-boy!" Meanwhile, Cloud and Tifa had both reached the top; Cloud made short work of the squirrels and grabbed the badge.
"It's mine!" he shouted triumphantly. Tifa, sensing defeat, quickly changed tactics.
"Ooh, Cloud, you got it for me!" she squealed, hugging him. "Can I have it? Pretty please?"
"Um... okay, I guess," said Cloud, fuddled by this open display of affection. He handed the badge to Tifa, who promptly pushed him off the edge in case he should change his mind.
"Ha! I am the sole Author now!" she proclaimed, and was about to put it on when she was ambushed by Elena, who grabbed the badge and pushed her, in turn, over the edge.
"Well done, Elena!" said Rufus, appearing from behind the tree. "Now just give the badge to me."
"Hah! You fool, did you really think I'd give it to you? I was the one who got the Author killed, anyway; I should get it!"
"Give it to me, or I'll fire you."
"Oh yeah? Well, think again, boss. Once I put this on, I won't need you or your pathetic company anymore. I'll be free! Free! Bwahahaha! And I'll control you all! No more taking idiotic missions from snooty suits or dealing with uncouth co-workers, I'll run the whole world!" She laughed maniacally, so wrapped up in her triumphal monologue that she failed to see Rufus coming up to her until he actually snatched the badge and put it on.
"What? That's... that's not fair! Uh... you know I was just kidding, don't you? I really was going to give it to you, really I was!"
"Sure you were. When will you learn to leave maniacal monologues to the pros? Now then, my first command will be..."
"Uh, sir?" said Elena. "Behind you.."
"I'm surprised that you would stoop to such a low trick, Elena. You must really be desperate to try that one."
"But there really is someone! He's trying to sneak up on you!"
"Shut up, or I'll write you in a romance with Reno. And --" he was cut short by Cid, who had climbed up over the inert bodies of the others to get to the top faster once he woke up, and now bonked him over the head and grabbed the Author badge for himself.
"Well, I did warn you..." said Elena smugly.
"Ain't gonna be no more %$^&*#in' argument about this," said Cid, "because my first order is everyone gets one day as Author. Of course, I get first turn. And if any mutinous $%&^*in' son of a ^&*$% tries to grab it, the $&%# will get fried by lightning. You got that?"
"Perfectly clear," said Elena. "So... looks like it's Cid Rules The ^$@#*&in' World day."
"Oh what fun," grumbled Rufus, who was still extremely annoyed at losing the chance to be sole Author.
And so Cid's one-day reign as the Author of the story began...
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Meanwhile, the real Author was snatching ineffectually at the badge.
"Oh, woe is me!" she cried. "How I curse all those times I thought it would be cool to be insubstantial!"
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author's notes: I decided I needed to write more comedy, so I embarked on a careful study of the anatomy of the FFVII comedy fic as exemplified here at ff.net. With three hours' research behind me, I feel confident that I will be able to replicate satisfactorily the atmosphere and tone of the very best random writers. Alas, I could not quite bring myself to employ the screenplay format; but I hope that my readers will overlook this minor breach of protocol and leave reviews that are no less incomprehensible than they would have been otherwise.