Gamora looked at the holocaster, and waved.
"Hi, this is Gamora, and that's Rocket."
Rocket grunted.
Gamora glared briefly, before going back to her fixed smile and addressing the 'caster.
"If you're at all attentive towards the English language, you may have noticed a few problems with the fanfiction you've been reading."
"The Author's a retard." Supplied Rocket, helpfully.
"Rocket!" Hissed Gamora. "Firstly you can't you that word, its offensive, and secondly he's just dyslexic. A lot of people are dyslexic."
"A lot of retarded people. Besides, he's got spell-check."
"Which brings us to the heart of the problem." Said Gamora, turning back to the 'caster.
"Although the author tries his best, and uses a spellcheck, and proof-reeds his own work, he has, well, it's sort of a mental block. He tends to see the words he thinks are there, and no matter how many times he re-reads them, if he knows what word he wants to be there, that's the word he sees, even if it's not spelt anything like the word that's actually there."
"How?" asked Rocket. Gamora shrugged. "It's hard to explain. He sees coloured nimbuses of light around letters. Particularly type. He doesn't look at individual letters so much as the colour and shape of the glow he sees around them. It's not unknown with dyslexics, but when he's trying to proof read, it presents some obvious problems."
Rocket snorted. "like the Enchilada Milk incident."
"… the what?"
"the Enchilada Milk incident. On the comments section on the Digger webcomic, they were discussing a guy who took in abandoned animals and sentimental crap like that, and they got to discussing how to make bottle formula for monotremes; Platypuses and Echidnas." Rocket noticed the look Gamora was giving him.
"Hey, I'm not making it up! It was the Digger comments section, you're lucky it wasn't more mental. Everyone on that site was some sort of genius-level retard. They started doing in-jokes about lead-smelting for Groot's-sakes. Anyway, BunnyRock spazzed up and wrote some gibberish that spellcheck translated to Enchilada Milk instead of Echidna Milk. And not just once, like three of four times, and he didn't notice it in proof-reading."
"Rouge Angles of Satin?" Said Gamora.
"What? Have you had a frickin' stroke or something?" asked Rocket.
"That's what they call it on TV tropes. When you get funny spell-check errors. Rouge Angles of Satin, look it up."
"Yeah, 'cause looking stuff up on TV Tropes is a real constructive way to lose a week before you know it." Muttered Rocket. "What we're saying is the guy can't proof-read for shit."
Gamora Nodded. "He's getting better with practice, but to spot the spelling errors, he needs to forget what it is he's written, otherwise he'll see the words he expects to see. And given that he can't keep a work in progress on his laptop without looking at it every few hours…"
"… he only spots the frickin' Enchilada Milk after he's published. Something about seeing it on a website makes him forget what he's written. Makes him see it as being like any other frickin' story on this crapy site. Fresh eyes, or some shit."
"So what we're saying is, although BunnyRock is trying his best, spelling and spell-check errors will probably persist to some degree when stories are published on Sundays, but get cleared up after that. So if you find the spelling annoying or a detriment to the story, try looking at the site a day or too later, by which time he'll have a corrected version up."
"On Mondays?" asked Rocket. Gamora considered this.
"He does have a job and a life beyond fanfic." Said Gamora. Rocket snorted with disbelief at the 'has a life bit' and followed up with "so Tuesday then?"
Gamora shook her head. "Nah, he's far too lazy for that. Let's say Wednesday. New chapters every other Sunday. Corrected versions up on the Wednesday after."
"If you can call them corrected: the guy writing them's still a retard. Might not be perfect, but should have wiped the worst of the Enchilada Milk of the story."
Gamora frowned. "Stop calling Dyslexics Retards. It's pretty cruel. It's a real disability."
"The guy got a scribe to write his exams for him since the age of twelve and blagged a free computer off the government in university because he couldn't write with a pen like a frickin' adult. Real disability my ass."
Gamora narrowed her eyes "Are you still angry he wrote you getting kicked in the crotch into the story?"
"No. I'm just saying the guys not half as smart as he thinks he is. I could write a better fanfic than this. Hell: Quill could write a better fanfic than this, and he's a thirty-something manchild. Then again, at least he's a successful manchild. I bet BunnyRock's still living in his dad's basement."
"Maybe he's saving up for a deposit. Besides, I really, really think you should stop mocking the guy who writes this."
"Why, what's the worse he could do to me?"
"Two words: Slash. Fiction."
Rocket stared straight ahead with a dull, dead horror.
"Quill/Drax?" he asked, hopefully. Gamora shrugged.
"No. I don't think so. Not with a title like forever in fur."
"Bunny's working very very hard on fixing the spelling, and you should all totally keep reading his stuff and say how much you like this storyline and in no way want to see him branch out into other stuff." Said Rocket, without pausing for breath. "For the love of god don't tempt him to branch out into other stuff!"
Gamora grimed and winked at the Camera. "See you on Sunday." She said waving. "Suggestions for the Awesome Mix tape always welcome."
"As are suggestions for story ideas you'd like to see." Said Rocket, waving. "So long as you keep it clean." He said, with a touch of desperation. After a moment he paused, and looked around.
"Where the hell are we?"
"I have no idea." Said Gamora. "Just keep waving and hopefully he'll stop typing."
They kept waving
" Anytime soon." She said. "Anyti-
Random Interlude Music:Yakety sax.
