Haha, wow, it's been a long time since I've updated this. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually intend to conclude this story one day.

P.S. The line "Visser Three demands hugs! Because he is a widdle fuzzykins!" does not belong to me. I saw it on a caption of a frame from the Animorphs TV show (showing V3 with his arms reaching forward, as if about to hug someone), although now I can't remember where I saw it. It's driving me crazy, too, so if anyone else can find that picture, I'd like to know the link to it.

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". . . and that is the reason why the platypus exists," Ellimist finished.

Almost everyone else in the room was snoring softly, having fallen asleep during Ellimist's lengthy fan-fiction."Congratulations, everyone, that was fantastic!" Norman congratulated, the sound of his applause waking the characters from their sleep. "Brilliant stories, everyone! Jara, I would have had no idea you were such a talented writer!"

Jara beamed. "Just tell story. Not big deal. Story of Lerdethak and Visser Three. Really happen, you know."

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Sure it did, Jara."

Jake held up a finger, like he had suddenly remembered something, but then forgot what it was.

"I could have sworn Visser Three morphed a Lerdethak once . . . "

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. That never happened."

"But I know I remember-"

"No, Jake, that didn't happen. Remember? You died and ret-conned yourself."

"Oh yeah."

Marco woke up with a start, halting in mid-snore. "Wait, did I read my story?" he asked questioningly. "And why does it feel like several years have passed since I did?"

"Yes, everyone read their stories," Norman said gently. "They were brilliant. I especially loved the part in your story, Marco, where Rachel and Melissa-"

"Wait wait wait WAIT," Rachel began impatiently. "Nobody actually read anything! Whatever lazy idiot is writing this story just decided to skip that part! And it's been forever since she updated, too! Man, you can't do that! Her reviewers are going to be pissed."

"It's called a segue," a short-haired blonde who had just entered the room snorted. "Geez, nobody wants to have to actually write every part of every story they tell!"

Marco snorted disdainfully and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. After all that suspense and lead-up to my fan-fic, you just suddenly decide to skip all of our fan-fics altogether. You just have no idea what I wrote, and you're a stupid lazy fat bum!"

The author (who was, by the way, not fat) scoffed back, "We wouldn't even be having this problem if you had just told me what your story was about!"

"You were supposed to think of it yourself, you moron! I'm a freaking fictional character, I can't-"

Pop! Marco disappeared.

Norman nodded in satisfaction. "And another reality-addict is empowered to admit their addiction."

The author smiled smugly. "Anybody else feel like arguing with me?"

Nobody did.

"Okay, good. Anyway, I was just dropping by to see how everything was going. Seems like everyone's doing great, so I'll be on my way."

The author left through a previously unseen door in the fourth wall of the room.

A pall of silence fell over the remaining characters. With Marco gone, everything was suddenly a lot quieter.

"Okay, next step," Norman said. "Moving on. Today, we will be looking at other . . . genres . . . of your particular stories." He cleared his throat, apparently hesitant to say what he knew he had to say next.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake asked, obviously worried.

"Today . . . we will watch the Animorphs TV show."

The reaction was instantaneous.

"NOOOOO!"

"Oh please, oh please, anything but that!"

"NOOO! That . . . that is my one weakness!"

"Can't we go back to the fanfiction?"

"Question. Can I be allowed to close my eyes? And wear earplugs? And leave the room?"

WHAM!

"Ow! That battle ended two chapters ago, moron!"

"I know, I just felt like hitting something!"

"Yeah, I know what you mean, the TV show has that effect on people."

"Oh god I admit it I'm a fictional character just get me out of here!"

Pop!

"Me too! ME TOO!"

Pop!

"What's everyone's problem? I like the show."

Dead silence.

"What? What did I say?"

More dead silence.

"Jara like show, too!"

"I mean, it wasn't the best show ever, and yeah, the special effects sucked, but-"

"Wait a second . . . Visser One, is that you talking?"

"No, I'm Visser One!"

"Are you serious? Visser One likes the show?!"

"Makes sense. I mean, she's barely in it, right? And she hates Visser Three. So, of course she likes the show."

"Visser Three demands hugs! Because he is a widdle fuzzykins!"

"Snrk!"

"What. The. Hell."

"INSOLENCE!"

Even though nobody had even noticed that he had left, Norman now came back through the door, wheeling a television set. With everyone in the room either hiding their eyes, cringing, looking ill, choking on their own spit from trying so hard not to laugh, or simply watching passively, Norman slowly and dramatically pressed 'play.'