A Brief Interlude Behind the Scenes: On Microsoft Word and Statistics
Mungojerry sits in front of her computer, a lovely little Compaq, that is not so little. She stops and strokes something perching on her shoulder, which puffs out its furry little moon-white chest and churrs.
"Well, H-amn, how should we proceed?"
The little Luminoth rubs it's furry-antennaed head on her cheek before settling down to examine the situation. The bio-luminescent traceries on its exoskeleton glow red, sending bands of light through the patterns in thought. The wings move gently up and down to their own breeze. Finally, a small amber hologram appears on the computer desk depicting an assemblage of characters from the story. It turns to Mungojerry and blinks.
"Well, YEAH. I could've told you that-ah!"
The luminoth blinks again, then a light-bulb appears above its head.
"Don't change the subject! Did you see it, did it work!"
Incoherent luminoth mumbling.
"I'll get back to that-SEE! I did it again! Stuff in ITALICS! Let's hope it works on the net. Now, what were you saying?"
A large blinking arrow pointing down at the little luminoth appears in conjunction with a well rendered representation of a ham with an x through it.
"OH. Right. Yes, one moment-" the author turns to look at YOU! GAH! RUNSEVENDAYSGAHBADMOVIEWORSERJOKEWORSERGRAMMAR-.uh, I mean-"eh-hem, you pronounce the name "Hhh," like an exhalation, and "ahmn," almost like "amen," or, closer, "ahmen," but less "e," more "mnnnnnn," not, "Ham-en"- or any kind of pork..or meat."
"STOP!"
GASP!
"THIS CHAPTER IS BEING HI-JACKED!"
Mungojerry and H-amn twist around to see who's speaking, resulting in H-amn having to turn around again becau-I'm not explaining. You just think about it while I, Mungojerry, play with the point of view in this story ALLL I WANT-
"It is I, Ilia Volyova! Svinoi!" ILIA VOLYOVA FIRES A BIG FANCY PLASMA GUN AT THE CEILING! TORCHING IT IN THE PROCESS!
Our author is calm. Her luminoth friend peaks from behind her shoulder. "ILIA Vol-YOVA! YOUR SO COOL!-..wait, what are you doing here!"
The computer genius examines the box of Wheaties that suddenly appeared in her hands, then drops it and flails the gun around a bit before answering, "How am I supposed to know? You're the one who wrote me in."
Indeed. Huh. Uh- I mean..
"Perhaps you are trying to plug an oh-so-fabulous book you read recently? By Alastair Reynolds? Something called… Revelation Space? That totally blew your mind away and is one of the best you've read in a while?"
Mungojerry rubs her chin. "..yep. Sounds right. HEY! Underlines!"
"Huh?"
"You can go now, Ilia, I just like typing your name…and I don't want you rigging my computer with Palsy or something.."
"Bu-" But Ilia DISSAPPEARS! Her voice echoes in the ether, "Can I have the food substance…?" (SMALLER TEXT!)
"Um. Okay." The Wheaties are sent through a sudden temporal worm hole and are spit out onto the deck of the Nostalgia for Infinity, where they are assailed like a baby gazelle in the midst of the Serengeti.
Mungojerry nods. "Well, back to the drawing board, H-amn! We have two goals today; one, experiment with the effects of uploading word documents, and two, examining a pressing problem that plagues many an author."
"What problem is that?" says Samus, who happens to have appeared.
"Well, Samus, that's a question we'll leave for later! First, we must focus on more pressing matters, like my experiment..!" Mungojerry begins to grin. Both H-amn and Samus take a step back, then Samus sees the luminoth and begins to poke it, resulting in a mini-luminoth bouncing around in its own protective little orb around the room. Like an alien moth-man in a floating electromagnetic hamster ball.
"DISSAPATE! MUST POKE!"
Mungojerry makes use of an emoticon, -.-, then snaps her fingers again, prompting a large white dragon, Captain Falcon, and…uh…Yoshi and Zelda to appear. Yoshi promptly robs all of their dignity by eating them and transforming them into eggs, except for the dragon, who hits Yoshi in the face with his tail. For good measure, Marth drops out of the air as well, landing on his butt.
"OKAY PEOPLE! I called you all here POR UN REASON!" Navi appears and her and H-amn begin having their own little floating orb war, because Mungojerry finds that amusing.
"Isn't it un-wise to mess with time and space?" asks Zelda.
All shrug and continue betting on who will win. Eh, it's fanfiction.
"Hey.." Marth spoke tentatively, "this isn't a continuation of…The Meatloaf Chronicles, is it..?"
BOLD, CENTERED, LARGE TEXT AND PRIMAL SCREAMS! OH, THE HORROR!
"WHAGGA-KA-" the author chokes on dust clouds shaped like familiar video game characters. The white dragon stays where it is and blinks; it doesn't know any better. It snaps at a passing bird that flew through the hole in the ceiling. "No, no no no…nothing to fear!" under her breath MJ mutters predictably, and hacks some more, "-yet-", then, louder, "We're doing a different kind of experiment today. And it's going to be very short so that I can get to a more important point; I think I'm losing my audience."
Cut to a shot of an empty computer chair and buzzing computer with one of those scrolling screensavers. A tumble weed made from printer paper rolls by in tandem with the marquee "...are they gone? ….good…now I can corrupt all their tax files and rig myself to come on in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. Then I'll jam the printer-"
Cut back to Mungojerry's computer room, where there is still no one in sight except the uBeR MyStErIoUs WhItE dRaGoN, Yoshi and H-amn. Each is crunching on a bucket of KFC; H-amn just perches on the edge of his. HOW CUUU- er-
Everyone cautiously peeks from behind couches and chairs, under carpets and magical glamours that turn their wearers into potted cactus. Yoshi tips his sunglasses, sipping on some iced-tea, "Actually, I didn't mind the 'Chronicles so much-I get to be Morpheus, and I'm not an eating machine!"
"OH, FORGET IT! JUST FORGET IT!" Mungojerry has a little conniption, glasses askew. Actually, I don't wear glasses, they're just there for effect. After some deep breathing on the part of the author and several fearful glances exchanged between our heroes, Mungojerry settles back into her seat. "Cut the experiment. I've already done enough testing as it is. SHOO!" Everyone except H-amn, the dragon, (Yoshi sneak attacks him into an eggshell before booking it), and...uh….Captain Falcon, leave in a hurried manner. The conga-dancing crickets from Meatloaf Chronicles do their thing, because they're on contract and I don't want to pay them for sipping margaritas and watching/mimicking Dancing with the Stars all day.
"So..why am I still here," starts Captain Falcon, "you're not going to subject me to…torture and turn me into…a-scary, drooling idiot scape-goat for readers to hate-are you!" He begins weeping on his hands and knees. "PLEASE! NO! ANYTHING BUT THA-A-AAAT-!11!11111111!1!11!1!"
"Oh, please! You're just here to help with the public service announcement."
Falcon blows his nose with one of my throw blankets-the little!-"R-really?"
"Yeah, and since this gets more abysmal by the line, let's finish it up--RIGHT NOW--okay!" Mungojerry pulls a giant megaphone out from under her chair, "PLACES EVERYONE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!-"
:CUT-BUZZ-TV-SNOW-CRRRSSHHSSCCH…ping!:
We now see a scene similar to the one before, albeit, through a low quality, shaky camera lens.
(offscreen stage-whisper): Falcon! Keep the camera STEADY!
(still offscreen): sniff ..but-b-but..I'm so..HAPPY! BIG sniff People don't hate me! LOOK AT ME NOW, WORLD! I FILM INFO-MERCIALS-!
(more of the same): KEEP IT DOWN-! Or..or…I'll make you read The Old Man and the Sea and write an essay 'bout it!
Falcon: (instantly shuts up, the camera becomes a mite steadier)
Now Mungojerry now sits at her seat, hands folded in her lap. She stares at the key board blankly, then looks at the screen. An amber holographic of one of those smokey twisty frustration thingies appears above her curly head, followed by a little bit of steam escaping from the ears.
: Effects provided by LumiWorks – Inexpensive, alien solutions to high quality work::
The white dragon saunters, onto the scene, then glances at a live feed, seeing that he is blocking the whole shot, and backs up so that just his sinuous, white neck and crested head are in view, peering over Mungojerry's shoulder.
WhiteDragon(in patented angelic, sonorous voice): You seem to have a problem.
Mungojerry: Uh, YEAH.
WD: …what is it?
Mungojerry: Okay, see this! (points to newly acquired stats page)
WD: Uh huh.
Mungojerry: Now, look at THIS! (Ah! The friendly author stats page.) 151 hits!
WD: ..and you're on a C2!
..really! You hear a rush of pounding feet as I go check. … …I'M ON A C2! THAT'S SO COOL!
HERE'S A THANKS FOR TWILIGHT-LINK FOR ADDING ME TO HIS/HER C2 LIST:D
Eh-hem.
WD: 151 hits! That's a lovely number. ..why are you upset then?
Mungojerry: ..okay…151 hits, ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-ONE, and not ONE single review to show for it.
WD: ..you're kidding.
Mungojerry: Nope.
WD:…that's ridiculous.
Mungojerry: I know. Not that I don't appreciate the readership, but DUDE, some feedback would be, I dunno, NICE. How am I supposed to know whether or not I'm going about this the right way? Are the editions I made to this latest chapter good or bad? I thought they were REALLY significant and made quite a difference; can my READERS tell? Do they think the same way?
Do they LIKE IT?
HATE IT?
Do they CARE for such editions or work style!
Do the characters seem properly fleshed out?
ARE THEY EVEN READING THE WHOLE THING?
For goodness sake! With 151 hits, you'd think I'd get SOME sort of feedback! But not even ONE. Not a "that sucked" or "WOO!" or "now I'll make a freakish critical analysis of this chapter.."
SNIFF!SOB my dog is dead…my dog is DEEEEEAD….. .boy these drops sting..
And it's not just me! It's authors everywhere, all over the site, decent authors with high quality work that don't get the reviews they deserve! (I am pointing to YOU, fans who frequent the Metroid section! There is some HIGH CALIBRE stuff there, read it and tell the authors you did so! Check out the Metroid Exchange C2!)
WD: (turns his eyes on the viewer and they grow bright blue) ...SHAME ON YOU!
H-amn hovers in from the side and uses the choppy black and white snapper thing to cut the scene, someone holds up a piece of notebook paper with something scrawled on it:
Do yur prt! Save teh wales!11!
This is immediately snatched down and replaced with a more fancy wooden sign held up by a bear paw:
Only YOU, and beta-readers, can help improve fanfiction! For craps sake, give us all some feedback!
BZZZZZZZTT
Dime-a-Dozen Studios, a subsidiary of MjInc, would like to thank Smokey the Bear for his cooperation.
..well, that's it. It's late, and I have a job now, so…thank-you for those who read the entire thing. I felt the need to vent. And for Far Within's sake, here's something you might find interesting, it's Far Within in its proto-stage! The first few chapters. I actually like them better than some of the stuff I have up now, but I'm not happy with their length. Enjoy! (?)
She was on a barren plateau, in the middle of Nowhere. At least it seemed like it. The sand was paled by the overly bright light that seemed to come from every direction. The plateau ended somewhere. She couldn't quite see.
Zelda kept walking forward. She was searching for something. The edge of the plateau. The walking felt mechanical, as if her legs were moving of their own will. Then she noticed how she was dressed. Zelda wore the white scarf and blue suite of her Sheikah garb, the red eye seemed to stare at her, prodding her mind. It almost seemed as if it were floating in front of her face, perspective warped.
The eye faded and she was at looking at the edge. But Zelda wasn't alone. standing near the very edge was Link, sword tip planted firmly in the ground, hands folded on top, eyes looking away into the nothingness. Something was wrong. "Link..?" But no sound came out, the only thing she could conjure up was a worry furrowed brow as she reached to touch his shoulder.
Abruptly Link whipped around, slicing up where her torso was, cutting it in two.. or it would have had she not moved back in time. Zelda's eyes held a look of alarm. Link's eyes...they scared her more than the glittering blade. They were empty.
Link kept swinging his sword, trying to hit her.
What was wrong...? The edges of the plateau grew closer, until there was just two inches of space that kept her out of the white Nothingness.
Link swung again, and connected.
She felt pain in her shoulder. When she brought up her hand it was like moving through molasses, and it took her ages to see that her hand was red. She looked up to see Link's eyes, as they flickered into life again, she saw the terror there. Abruptly, the white turned to gray, gray to black, and darker still, the blackness became a tangible thing, and disappeared so did Link. Then she was falling...down deeper, into the white, the gray, and finally..
She woke up wailing.
--------------------------------
As did a certain ace pilot of the Lylatian system.
Ch. 3
Fox woke up surrounded by a blur that eventually resolved itself into his very own team-mates, plus one. They all looked as if they had seen his dad, the way he had.
Fox's room was lightly furnished, with a bed that stuck out of the wall and a small table that did the same. Across the room was a closet that held his various clothes, though they were not quite varied themselves. Hidden in the recesses of the closet were a few blasters, and some odd looking instruments that he had acquired during his travels. On another wall he had hung a few pictures; mostly of "The Gang." There was one with Slippy working under one of the arwings, face black with the exhaust that the small, versatile ship had seemed to spew out all it's own.. (up in the corner you could see Falco in the cockpit.) Another showed all three of them, taking dramatic poses and trying to look severe. The next one was special. It had Slippy with tape over his mouth and both Peppy and Falco on either side, thumbs up, grinning mischievously and winking. The last picture was hard to look at. The picture showed a young fox hanging out of his cockpit side, grinning at the camera and giving a pig a noogy, while a spry, lean looking hare held it in place. Fox always had to look twice to tell that the hare was Peppy. The pig was Pigma, and the fox was James Mcloud, his father.
"Fox! What's wrong..?" Peppy looked older than usual and Falco had his feathers ruffled.
"C'mon buddy, what happened!" Slippy was just as pale. Fox was confused, what had happened? He voiced his thoughts, "What?"
"You were yelling Fox...for a full five minutes…" Peppy's news hit him hard. Now he remembered...his father.
"It-it was just a nightmare." Falco stepped forward.
"JUST a nightmare, MY TAIL FEATHERS! When YOU have a nightmare that wakes even ME up, as WELL as alarming ROB, I think it must have been QUITE the nightmare!" Fox was mentally backed up against a wall now. Peppy sensed his dumbstruck ness with that sixth sense and wisdom that all with many years had. "C'mon everyone... move along now, nothing more to see. We can talk about it in the morning...if Fox wants too," Peppy glanced at Fox. Falco grumbled as he left and Slippy shuffled out, still pale...Fox blinked. "Don't lose color over it Slip, I'm ok, REALLY..." they both smiled and Slippy nodded and scurried off to bed like a prompted child, promised a trip to the toy store in the morning. When everyone had gone, Peppy gave him a knowing look and said in a wizened voice,
"Do you need your special drink now...?"
"Nahhhh..."
"I think you do."
"Well... OK."
Peppy produced two mugs of hot chocolate.
And Krystal sighed, stepping away from the door. Fox could tell her about it later, if he needed to. She was in need of some sleep.
A/N)AGAIN): ..and that's that! I added the part about Krystal after I played Dinosaur Planet, because I thought she was cool and wanted her in the story. (Canon issues too.)