It was about two o'clock in the morning when the unconventionally abused troop finally stumbled into their hotel room in Anaheim. Dan had asked if they still needed to shift-sleep, but Jenny had replied that if she got any less than seven consecutive hours of uninterrupted quiet after the day she'd had, she would personally rip both of their heads off. So, they all threw caution to the wind and crashed onto the lumpy mattresses.
Thankfully, it seemed as though Mel was still so shaken up from her last attempt at writing tragedy that they actually slept through the night without incident.
When Dan awoke the next morning, Phil was already in the shower and Jenny was scrolling through her laptop, scribbling on a sheet of notebook paper with the same intensity that she had the night they first met.
"What are you doing?" he asked, stretching.
Jenny didn't even look up. "I'm trying to figure out Mel's identifying features."
"You mean you don't even know what she looks like?" Dan asked incredulously.
"We're internet friends. It's not that weird."
"But, doesn't she have a profile pic?"
"Let's see," Jenny said, counting them off on her fingers. "Her fanfiction profile pic is of you and Phil, her Twitter pic is of you and Phil, all her pics on Tumblr are GIFs of you and Phil, her Facebook albums are all about you and Phil, her Instagram is just retouched screenshots of you and Phil, her YouTube channel only has music videos made using clips of you and Phil, and her YouTube icon-"
"Let me guess," Dan interrupted, "is me and Phil?"
"No, actually that one's a kitten," Jenny shrugged.
Dan shook his head slowly. "So, how do you figure it out then?"
"I'm reading through her fics," Jenny replied, still jotting notes. "You can get a pretty good idea of what an author looks like by paying attention to how she describes her OCs. It's simple. For instance, Mel likes to give her OCs unnatural hair colors like blue and purple. So, what does that tell us about Mel?"
"That she has an unnatural hair color?" Dan guessed.
"No," Jenny groaned, "pay attention, Dan. Yes, OCs are usually self-inserts, but they're fantasized versions. If Mel fantasizes about having blue hair, she probably isn't allowed to dye her hair, meaning that it's brown."
"Why brown?" Dan asked. "Why can't it be blond or black or whatever?"
"Because if she were blond, her OCs would also be blond and a hell of a lot smarter than they are now because she would feel the need to prove that the 'dumb blond' stereotype is false. If her hair were naturally black, she would be trying to prove that her OCs are not emo, and so on. Trust me, her hair is brown."
"Okay whatever," Dan said, holding his hands up. "You're the expert."
Jenny smiled. "Really Dan, it's not that difficult. Here, try an easy one. She describes some of her OCs as 'skinny enough to be anorexic, but not anorexic', and others as 'curvy'. So, what does that tell us?"
"That she's fat?" he tried.
Jenny banged her head on the table in frustration. "No! You have to think like a girl! If she just said that the OC was 'thin' then we could infer that Mel was probably chubby because she was using 'thin' in a positive way. But since she describes them as 'skinny enough to be anorexic', but then qualifies it by saying, 'but not anorexic', then we can infer that Mel probably gets accused of having an eating disorder because of her weight. If not, then she wouldn't have thought to qualify her statement in that way. So, in this case, the OC is an accurate representation of herself. Then, when she describes the other OCs as 'curvy', she's showing you her true fantasy, which is to actually have boobs."
"And your brain just does that?" Dan asked, stunned.
"Oh, those are the easy ones," Jenny said. She flipped through her notebook and held up a page covered in Venn diagrams, graphs, and algebraic formulas. "This is how I determined that she has a pet iguana."
By the time they had all gotten showered and dressed, Jenny had compiled a detailed list of Melanie's characteristics. It contained everything from her height—five foot two—to the facts that her dad left her when she was three years old, she was an only child, allergic to shellfish, and the iguana's name was 'Trevor'.
"Is this all really relevant?" Dan asked skeptically, gazing at the list.
"You'll never know what you need to know 'til you need to know it," Jenny recited. "That's what my algebra teacher used to say about quadratic equations, anyway."
Dan groaned.
"So, what's our plan now?" Phil wondered.
"We start looking," Jenny replied. "Mel could be anywhere."
"Uh, you do realize that we can't just wander around freely, right?" Phil asked. "We sort of get mobbed at these things."
"Exactly," Jenny said. "You guys are going to be the bait. You two find a way to attract herds of fangirls—I don't know, sneeze or whatever—and I'll walk around trying to pick out Mel."
"So, just to clarify," Dan began, "not only do we have to be in public while 'under the influence' but we're also going to ensure that hundreds of other people are staring at us?"
Jenny looked at him. "And your better idea is…?"
A/N: Hello lovely reader!
I must inform you of a very grave problem regarding the number of people following this story. See, at the moment, there are 69 of you.
Now as I'm sure you all know, it is customary on the internet, upon seeing the number 69, to snicker. This snickering then allows the snicker-er to feel like an educated and experienced member of society (even if the snicker-er in question is only ten years old). Those who are unaware of the significance of the number 69 and therefore do not snicker appropriately (I was homeschooled—I understand), then feel left-out, naive, and confused. It's a very sad situation for them.
The solution that I propose (after advising those uninformed among us to preform a quick Google search, and then promptly clear the browsing history) is to systematically erase the number 69 from the world. My theory is that the less exposure people receive to the number 69, the less snickering there will be, and the less people will feel these negative emotions.
In this particular case, I can see only one solution to the problem of 69 followers: someone will have to un-follow, thus bringing the number back down to 68 which is a safe and lovely number, fit for consumption by all ages and not requiring any snickering. Then, we will have to cap it off at 68, thus ensuring that we do not reach that horrible, snicker-inducing number 69 again.
... Well, I mean, I suppose there's another solution to the problem... but I wouldn't want to impose on anyone. I mean, true, someone who is currently not following this fic could decide to follow it, thus bringing the total number of followers up to 70. And yes, that would have a better chance of working in the long run... but I would hate to impose.
"Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, drink off this potion!" ~ William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Best wishes, all 69 of you.
~Bethany
