The theme song started. This time it was western music.

“Aww, come on. I hate western.” Nate wandered onto the scene. Today he was wearing a flamboyant Hawaiin shirt.”

“No, I’m not. I distinctly remember putting on a…” His words trailed off as he looked down at himself. “I don’t have a choice here, do I?”

A tinkling of laughter sounded in his mind, like a dozen tiny bells.

The intro continued behind Nate, who was wrestling with himself trying to get the shirt off.

“Doughnuts!!” Nate threw his arms down in defeat. They popped out of their sockets and landed on the floor.

Nate looked down at them and screamed and they lay flopping around like fish at his feet.

*Click*

The scene went black, then rewound to just before Nate threw down his arms. This time, his body behaved normally.

“What happened?” Nate looked from his hands to the floor. “I just had the weirdest sensation of Deja Vu. Wait, was that a rewrite, or a deleted scene? That’s so cool. I wonder what happened.”

The scene faded, Nate was holding his chin, looking up, still deep in thought as the music ended and everything went black.

The book landed on the floor again, and opened to a fresh page. The quill wrote.

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The bird once again flew off with the book.

The scene changed.

Nate had just opened the door to his new home.

The room was a large circle, with nine large doors for each of the bedrooms, plus the door leading out. They were painted in the seven colours of the rainbow, as well as white, and black. The door leading out was unpainted wood.

The main area was split into three open areas. One had a couch, tv, and some game system Nate didn’t recognize, but he wasn’t really into video games.

There was a kitchen, with the basic appliances, and the third area had a large table with nine chairs and several power bars along the edges of the table. It was used for both eating, and working on your computer.

In the very center of the room was a small spiral staircase that led up to a second floor.

Dave was coming down the stairs, drying his hair with a towel. He was wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. There were two comically large bandages on his jaw in the shape of an X.

“I see you made it. Sorry I couldn’t meet you earlier. I’m Dave,” Dave draped the towel around his neck and offered a hand.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Nate take Dave’s hand and shook it.

“Nah, I’m invincible. I play a vital role in the story as the flying punching bag.”

“What did you just say?” Nate’s jaw dropped. “It’s true, you realize we’re just characters in a story too, don’t you?”

“I said I’m invincible.” Dave put his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “I’m not sure about the rest of what you just said. Are you feeling ok? Are you seasick?”

Rather than becoming overwhelmed, Nate decided to swear at the author. For decency's sake, we are going to fast forward past that nonsense.

On top of all that, you’re going to make me look like I’ve lost my mind. Nate's thoughts were still full of anger.

Outside Nate’s mind, in the real world, only a second had passed.

“I’m fine, sorry to have worried you.” Nate shrugged off Dave’s hand and stumbled toward the couch in the living room area.

“Where are the others?” Jaz leaped over the back of the couch, landing beside Nate.

“The writer hasn’t come up with them yet.” Dave sat down in one of the chairs, turning it so it faced the couch.

Pineapple, just pineapple. Nate thought towards the writer.

He felt a wave of confusion and smiled.

So you don’t know everything, do you?

“Sorry you don’t get to pick your room, but you’re red.” Stacy handed Nate a glass of water. “You’re still looking a bit green. Have something to drink. And don’t pay any attention to Dave. Go look at the doors, they’ve all got nameplates. Proof that they’re just out getting lunch at the dining hall instead of eating here.

Nate got up, took a sip of water, then walked around the outside of the room, checking all the doors. Staring with his own, they each had a bronze plate engraved with the name of the occupant.

“See, nothing to worry about.” Stacy had followed Nate around the room, standing slightly behind him as he moved about.

Nate nodded, then sat back down beside Jaz.

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“So, what genre do you write?” Dave had spun around on the chair, his legs were hanging over the top of it and his head was hanging down near the floor. His hands were folded in his lap, if you could still call it a lap in that position.

Stacy noticed Nate’s expression at seeing Dave.

“Don’t mind him, he’s bisexual.” She patted Nate’s arm.

Nate nodded knowingly. He was secretly pansexual, so he was a part of the club, just a slightly different flavour.

“I write fantasy.” Nate took another sip of water.

The others in the room started listing off subgenres of fantasy. Five, then ten. Twenty. Even Stan participated by holding up signs. A bird flew down the stairs, listed off another five, then flew back upstairs.

“Enough already!!” Nate jumped up so quickly he spilled the rest of his water.

“I don’t limit myself. I like trying different things. Whether that’s a dragon detective in modern Toronto, a superman scenario set in Lord of the Rings, or a creature from hell that will crawl up from within the pages to devour your soul. I don’t give a flying fish finger, I’ll write what I want, the way I want to.”

Nobody moved or said a word. There was total silence. A pin fell from the bulletin board, hurtling toward the floor. Just before it hit, a mouse ran up and snatched it from the air. The mouse made a “Shh” gesture and gently placed the pin on the floor.

It took a few seconds to click in before Matt realized there was a mouse in the room. He let out a wild screech and leaped to the top of the fridge, where he crouched near the edge.

“Matt, get down from there. It’s just Wilbur.” Luke walked over and picked up the mouse. He vanished into the blue room for a minute then came back out.

“Wilbur?” Nate asked once they were all seated again.

“Don’t start.” Stacy looked around, glaring at each of them in turn.

“He’s named after the rat in Charlotte’s Web.” Stacy sighed and smacked Luke in the back of the head for talking.

“But Wilbur is the pig's name.” Nate scratched his head. Something was wrong with this picture.

“Well, Wilbur was a better character.” Luke crossed his arms and stared at Dave.

“Excuse you. There wouldn’t be a book without Templeton. And he was a much better character than some generic pig.” Dave stood up and crossed his arms, staring back at Luke.

“Boys…” Stacy stood between them.

“Wait. Why say that you named him after the rat when he’s named Wilbur. Why not just say you named him after the pig?” Nate was still scratching away. Smoke started to form above his head.

“Don’t be absurd.” Luke turned to stare Nate down. “Who would name their mouse after a pig?”

Luke nodded at Nate, daring him to challenge.

The bird flew down the stairs again, said “Fantasy” and flew back up again.

“Does that bird belong to somebody too?” Nate looked around.

“Never seen it before.” Jaz shrugged.

“The bird reminded me that I never got a chance to ask what genres you all write.”

“Sports for me.” Dave was now sitting cross-legged in the chair. “Fiction and non-fiction. I sell sports stories to a few local papers, freelance.”

“I just love a good mystery,” Jaz lightly traced a line down her face with the tip of her nail. “Wondering who did it. And sometimes, if they’ll actually get away with it.”

“Action and adventure for me.” Matt flexed his arm. “Yup. I’m pretty versatile too you know. As long as it gets the blood pumping, I’m in.”

“And this guy writes animal fiction.” Matt walked over to Stan. “Some pretty great stuff.”

“Animal fiction?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, like Redwall, Watership Down, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, I get it. I loved those stories growing up.”

“Cooking for me.” Stacy chimed in. “I write cookbooks mainly, but I love using food in other genres.”

“Like they say, you can’t have a grand adventure without grand food.” Luke stood dramatically, gesturing wildly, as though quoting something.

“Somebody has to have said it for you to be able to say that.” Matt stuck his tongue out at him.

“What about you, Luke?” Nate looked over at the large figure.

“I write romance.”

“Wow, we have quite the variety here, don’t we.” Nate said.

“It was written that way intentionally,” Dave was sitting sideways in the chair, back leaning against one arm and legs dangling off the other. “Gotta represent as many genres as possible.”

Nate ignored the obvious taunt by the author and changed the subject.

“Did you all get the same test on the way here? With the underwater house burning.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Have you looked to see how well it’s doing yet?” Stacy pulled out her phone.

“What do you mean? I passed, isn’t that everything?”

“Didn’t you read the papers before signing them, and agreeing to come here? Do you have any idea what’s going on here?” Matt’s hands were on his cheeks and his mouth was wide open.

“I skimmed it.” Nate looked down in embarrassment. “It was massive. Nobody reads the terms and conditions.”

“You idiot,” Stacy reached over and smacked the back of his head. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to explain things as we go until you get a chance to read over it.”

“Every story you submit for a contest is uploaded to the main site. They are posted anonymously. They track views, and some contests will use those numbers to determine the winner. You also get paid money based on the number of views. That money gets put aside and paid out when you get kicked off. As long as you didn’t break any serious rules, that is.”

“Here’s my list.” Stacy pulled out her phone and showed Nate.

“Wait, how do I get that on my phone?” He looked over at Stacy’s phone, then back at his.

“You really didn’t read anything, did you.” Stacy took his phone and within seconds had it connected to the ship's wi-fi, and started the download.

“Thanks.” Nate took the phone back. “Um… How do I log in?”

Stacy facepalmed. “Really? You haven’t even logged into the main site yourself yet? They’ve probably sent you a dozen emails by now.”

“I may be a little over-zealous sending things to my spam folder. I didn’t see any emails from them after the acceptance letter.”

Stacy helped him get his account up and started. It didn’t take long before he was staring at a number on his screen.

312

“Is that good?”

“For your first story, it’s excellent.” Dave untangled himself and got up from the chair. He walked over and took a look at Nate’s phone for himself. “Most people don’t break 100. It’s a tough situation to write well. And by now most people are sick of reading the same scenarios over and over again. It’s hard to be too original when they’re that strict with the conditions.”

“Oh, wow. That’s great.” Nate couldn’t stop staring at his phone.

Suddenly the door burst open.

“Everyone come quick.” A short, odd-looking man stood there. His face was more square than round, and he was wearing glasses with large circle lenses. “Alice and Andy are having a word war. It’s official.”

Stacy was carrying a plate of cookies from the kitchen. When she heard the news, she dropped the plate.

The scene ended with a close-up of the broken plate and cookies on the floor.