The Doctor was bored. He rifled through some of his books and scribbled some meaningless figures on the chalkboard but nothing he did seemed to alleviate his suffocating boredom.

I need to go somewhere exciting, he thought. Where haven't I been in awhile that's exciting? He thought and thought until he finally hit upon the answer. The Land of Fiction! It's never boring there! He quickly pressed some buttons and pulled some levers on the TARDIS console and the time rotors roared into action. Within seconds, the TARDIS had landed and the Doctor stepped out. He was standing in what appeared to be a gigantic library with rows upon rows of books stretching out for miles. They've done some redecorating since the last time I was here. I don't like it. Nevertheless, he decided to have a look around. He had only taken a few steps when he bumped into someone. She was a plain woman in her mid thirties.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"It's quite all right," the Doctor said. "No harm done."

"Good. You'll have to forgive me but I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Really? I've never known anyone in the Land of Fiction to be in a hurry."

The woman gave him a confused look. "The Land of Fiction?" she said. "This is the BookWorld. Although, if you want to be technical about it, I suppose it is a land of fiction since everyone here is fictional. Except for me, that is."

"What do you mean?"

"My name is Thursday Next," the woman explained. "I work for Jurisfiction, the organization responsible for policing the BookWorld. I make sure there aren't any changes being made to books that might interfere with their plots."

"I see. I'm the Doctor, by the way, and I'm also not fictional."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor, but as I said, I really must be going."

"May I ask why?"

"I'm on my way to a very important meeting. Apparently, the BookWorld is in the middle of a disaster. Usually, these meetings only involve characters from books. But this time, they're allowing characters from all media to attend. That means it's really serious business."

"Perhaps I could come along. I think you'll find I can be useful to have around."

"If you insist," Thursday said and she led him to the meeting room. It turned out to be an enormous auditorium filled with a variety of characters from literature, television, film, theater, comics and games. The Doctor and Thursday stood in the wings and watched as a man with two heads and three arms took the stage.

"Who is he?" the Doctor asked.

"Zaphod Beeblebrox, President of the Galaxy," Thursday replied. "He's the highest authority figure we could get on such short notice."

"Welcome, everyone!" Zaphod announced as he reached the podium. "I know there have been a lot of rumors flying around but now is the time to set the record straight. I'm not going to mince words, ladies and gentlemen. We are facing an existential threat. All of fiction is now at risk." There was murmuring among the crowd. "Here's the situation as we understand it: Someone has rewritten the end of The Neverending Story so that the Nothing destroys the land of Fantasia and then escapes from the book itself, swallowing up everything in its path."

"What is the Nothing?" asked someone in the audience. It was Norman Bates.

"It's a mysterious force that no one really understands," Zaphod replied. "The point is that if we don't find a way to stop it, we'll all be dead. And we don't know how much time we have left. We've already lost several fictional worlds, including Middle Earth, Narnia and Westeros." There were gasps from the audience. "Yes, I know, it's tragic. But I haven't told you the worst part. If the Nothing manages to destroy all of fiction, humanity will lose its ability to create new stories. Just imagine that. No more imagination. It doesn't bear thinking about."

"Wasn't there something in The Neverending Story about how the people of Fantasia were becoming sad and that's what was bringing on the Nothing?" asked Jack Torrance. "So do we all have to try to be happier or something like that?"

"No, I'm afraid that won't work, Mr. Torrance," Zaphod said. "The rewrites have made the Nothing more powerful than ever before. It's going to take much more than happiness to stop it."

"Are there any clues as to who might be responsible for this?" asked Hannibal Lecter.

"Hmmm, we seem to be getting a lot of questions from the psycho killer section," Zaphod said. "Is there a reason you gentlemen find this so fascinating?"

"Anything that can cause death on a massive scale intrigues us," Lecter said with a chilling smile. Jack and Norman nodded in agreement.

"Well," Zaphod said, "To answer your question, Dr. Lecter, allow me to turn the mike over to Det. John Munch." Zaphod stepped aside and Munch took his place at the podium.

"Thank you, Mr. President," he said. "Yes, we have one lead we're currently pursuing and here it is." He held up a basketball. "There's a note written on it. It says, 'You pathetic clowns. You thought you could forget about me. Well, now you're going to feel my wrath. So long, suckers!' It's signed with the initials 'C.C.'. Now, I've had my best people working this case and none of them have the faintest idea who this could be. Not even Tommy Westphall and he normally sees everything." Munch indicated a boy sitting in the front row who was staring at a snow globe. "I'll be sure to keep you all up to date as the investigation moves forward." Munch left the stage and Zaphod returned to the podium.

"That concludes the meeting," he said. "I wish I had some good news for you. All I can say for now is stay safe." He left the podium and went to greet Thursday. "Ms. Next! So glad you could make it!"

"Of course, Mr. President," Thursday said. "Allow me to introduce-"

"The Doctor!" Zaphod exclaimed, grabbing the Doctor's hand. "This is a pleasant surprise!"

"It is?" the Doctor asked, confused.

"Indeed!" Zaphod replied. "After all, my creator Douglas Adams wrote some of your stories back in the day. City of Death is a particular favorite of mine."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, this may come as a bit of a shock to you but you're just as fictional as I am, Doctor. As are you, Ms. Next."

The Doctor and Thursday could not believe what they were hearing. "B-but," the Doctor stammered, "I'm not from the Land of Fiction or the BookWorld or whatever you call it. I'm from Gallifrey. In the constellation of Kasterborous."

"And I'm from Earth!" Thursday cried.

"Yes, well, some characters are aware they're fictional and some aren't," Zaphod explained. "Normally, I wouldn't be telling you this. But since we're all facing a potential apocalypse, I had to bend the rules a little. You're in just as much danger as the rest of us, I'm afraid." While the Doctor and Thursday attempted to process this, a man wearing a tuxedo came up to them.

"I for one am not the least bit worried about this Nothing business," he said suavely as he lit a cigarette. "No one has managed to kill me yet and I don't expect anyone ever will."

"Perhaps I should've been more clear, Mr. Bond," Zaphod said, "but the Nothing does not care who you are. It kills indiscriminately."

"Really?" Bond said, looking worried.

"Yes."

"Oh my God!" Bond shouted. "We're all going to die!" He ran away crying.

"Utterly useless," Zaphod said, shaking his heads.

"What do we do now?" Thursday asked.

"I was hoping you might have some ideas. I can't make decisions. I'm a President."

"Well, for the moment, Thursday and I will have to put our existential crisis aside," the Doctor said. "We should round up some heroes. The most capable ones we can find. Maybe they'll be able to help us."

"We'd better hurry. The auditorium is emptying as we speak." The Doctor, Thursday and Zaphod spoke to several characters that were still hanging around. Before long, they had managed to find some who agreed to join their cause: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Katniss Everdeen, Luke Skywalker, Indiana Jones and Inigo Montoya.

The Doctor addressed his new companions. "You all know what we're up against," he said. "It's perhaps the greatest threat any of us has ever faced. But remember, it's not just about us. Think of all the great works of literature. The greatest plays ever performed. The best films ever made. Your favorite TV shows. They'll all be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Unless we manage to stop the Nothing dead in its tracks."

"And what if we fail?" Harry asked.

"Then the best we can hope for is to find a safe haven. Somewhere the Nothing can't get to us. But who knows where that might be. In the meantime, we should get to my TARDIS. I think we should travel to different genres and look for a way out of this mess." The others nodded in agreement and the Doctor led them out of the auditorium.

On their way to the TARDIS, Luke turned to Indy and said, "You know, you look kind of familiar."

"Never mind that, kid," Indy replied. "We have more important things to worry about now."

When they reached the TARDIS, the Doctor unlocked it and held the doors open for everyone. As he was about to step in, he noticed a solitary figure standing in the shadows nearby and looking down at the floor. The Doctor recognized the figure instantly. "Care to join us, Mr. Wayne?"

Batman looked up and turned to the Doctor. "No," he said. "I'd rather stay here and brood for awhile. People like it when I brood."

"I understand," the Doctor said and stepped inside the TARDIS. As it dematerialized, Batman noticed that the area around him was getting darker and darker. He realized that the Nothing had come for him. No one was safe.


Back in the theater, Mike, Crow and Servo had a few questions.

"So all of fiction is being threatened by this Nothing thing?" Mike said. "But the Nothing's fictional too. So how does that work?"

"And why don't they just change the ending to The Neverending Story back to the way it was?" Servo asked. "Or is that something they can't do for some reason?"

"By the way," Crow interjected, "How can there even be an ending to The Neverending Story? Isn't that false advertising?"

"I guess we're supposed to repeat to ourselves it's just a film and we should really just relax," Mike said.

"Good advice," Servo said.