Chapter 25

Of course, before we can get to what happened between the end of the fourth episode of The Slightly Late Show with Zune Tee-em and the fire department incident, there were some things to take care of. The most important of these was the narrator’s annual review. Unfortunately.

The incredible humble, suave, and eloquent narrator sat in a cramped, cold, and barren office in the Fictional Bureau of Interlocutors. The narrator certainly was not tapping their foot nervously, nor reviewing a report detailing several “infractions.” No! They were the pinnacle of calm, cool, and collected. After all, they had the audience’s full support by this point.

Then, unfortunately, the narrator’s incredibly annoying supervisor walked into the room, causing a thousand children in a distant city to cry tears of pure disgust. How could such an ugly and hideous being exist?

“You can stop narrating now.” the foul harpy spoke. “And do you think calling me a harpy is going to help?”

The narrator gulped. Of course she could read his narration. But the narrator had definitely planned for this, so instead continued narrating. Afterall, what could the narrator’s supervisor do to him?

“First of all, my name is Jenna. Second of all, I could fire you.” Jenna said, incorrectly.

The narrator gave a suave chuckle, and leaned back into his very cool chair. He was doing great.t

“Oh no, I assure you. I am correct. You aren’t a contractor. This isn’t your company. You know that, yes?”

“I’m sure the execs would love to hear you say that. I’m the face of the company, they can’t fire me. I’m invincible.” The narrator completely destroyed Jenna in two sentences.

“Excuse me, you think what?”

“Think? No. Know.”

Jenna sighed, exasperated from fighting against the narrator’s unparalleled intelligence.

“No. Really. You are not the face of the brand.”

“Bullshit.”

Jenna pulled out a print on demand copy of The Slightly Late Show and showed it to the narrator. The front cover had Zune on it, instead of the narrator. Real Galadhorn was peeking from behind the curtains from an as-of-yet unseen version of the backdrop from Zune’s show. The gall. The narrator remained calm, cool, and collected.

“Narrator, you need to calm down, or I’m calling security.” Jenna gaslighted the narrator.

The narrator, who was always calm, turned to a state of even more calmness and coolness than he had previously achieved.

“Alright, now that you’re calm, and understand what your position is in this company, let’s turn to your annual review. First off, this comment from…”

The narrator did not need to hear this, and willfully ignored Jenna.

“Snap out of it.” Jenna snapped in front of the narrator’s face, rudely.

We have a complaint here, from a reader. The union had to get involved in answering this one:

Wait, he said in the beginning that he was a servant for 12 days, and then by the end they are 45 [days] old? What’s the kobold union opinion on this matter?

“And don’t go saying this is a fake comment. Not only did Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw verify that this was exactly how the comment was written. He also replied, and reported it to us.”

“So?” the narrator scoffed.

“So? We can’t have a fucking comment support agent clarifying things for readers, it’s…”

“Awesome?”

“Awesomely unprofessional.” Jenna complained, completely incorrect. The infallible narrator needed no correcting. The kobold comment support agent Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw didn’t need to comment. Plus, he had no qualifications.

“He has a doctorate in webfiction studies.” Jenna interjected, rudely.

“Excuse me?” the narrator asked.

“Let me repeat it slower, so you can understand: Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw has a doctorate in webfiction studies.”

The narrator thought for a moment. That clearly wasn’t a real field of study. Plus, it’s not like the Bureau of Unified Kobold Labor Unions had any actual power within the narrative confines of The Slightly Late Show Wth Zune Tee-em. And, because that’s where Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw worked, he had no power here either.

“That reminds me.” Jenna pressed the button on the aged intercom in the small interrogation chamber.

“Send in Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw please.”

The door to the holding room opened, and in walked a small purple kobold. The narrator was shocked. What was the Webfiction Comments Support Agent from the Bureau of Unified Kobold Labor Unions doing here, in the narrative realm? Was he truly that powerful?

“No, he’s not a narrator or anything. But, we liked his work so we hired him.”

“You fucking what?”

“We hired him, Narrator.”

Oh, how foul and wretched! The narrator was being betrayed by the Fictional Bureau of Interlocutors. Their terrible plans to gaslight the narrator were not going to be unpunished.

“Enough. Narrator.” Jenna said, seizing control of the story.

****

If there was one word I would use to describe the narrator, as Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw walked through the door, it was “pissed.” Go figure. He had always had a penchant for self-aggrandizing, but I would be damned if I was going to let him treat me like garbage. I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a manilla envelope filled to the brim with paper. Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw and I had worked together during the past four chapters to count up all of the infractions the narrator had incurred since Chapter 1. It wasn’t pretty.

“Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw. How many infractions did we count?” I asked the kobold, knowingly.

“There have been forty-five confirmed narrative infractions since Chapter 1.” Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw said. He gave me a knowing look, gesturing to his rat bag made of denim. I nodded, and he took a rat from the bag, dropped it into his mouth, and ate it.

“That’s a lot grosser up close.” said the narrator. It was silent for a bit, as Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw and I waited for the narrator to respond to Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw’s statements of fact. The narrator was basically guaranteed to help our case at this point. Talking was his favorite thing to do.

“I mean, forty-five narrative infractions really isn’t that bad, all things considered. My style definitely lends itself to more narrator-story interaction than most other narrators. You can hardly call my narrative intrusions a mistake, when they are a deliberate style choice. Sure, it’s a bit avant-garde, but…”

I winked to Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw, now was our chance to drive home the point.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“-Forty-five confirmed narrative infractions. Two hundred and seventeen potential narrative infractions, in addition to the forty-five that were confirmed.” The kobold beamed with pride. I was so glad we hired him. And I’d bet anything he was happy to be out of Mentholarix’s lair.

“Bullshit. Let me see those.” The narrator reached for the pile of infractions as I swatted his hand away.

“No. You will not see them.” I said.

“There can’t possibly be two hundred and seventeen total narrative-”

“two hundred and sixty two.” Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw corrected

“Two hundred and sixty two narrative infractions. There aren’t even that many pages in the book yet!”

I grabbed a handful of papers from the overflowing manilla envelope, and began to read.

“Narrative infraction forty-three: Removing letters from the chapter title.”

“But I-”

“Shut up.”

The narrator grumbled, and then I continued.

“Narrative infraction forty-four: Too many side characters.”

“But Emma is interesting! I mean, really, the drama!”

“You’re narrating a fucking comedy novel!” I slammed the report on the desk. “This is part of a larger problem. You keep stealing material from the other narrators. The Asisi Vermouth interview? Really? That was supposed to take place on Earth! That was supposed to win the Pulitzer for fiction! The story had all of the workings of a classic, and you just shit it out in two chapters-”

“Four. Four chapters.”

“This isn’t helping you.” I said. He grimaced. I think it was finally becoming clear to him that the execs were unhappy. I was unhappy. This was unacceptable.

I pulled out several more papers from the report Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw had helped me compile.

“And it shows here that you made several requests for Nayinis. Fucking Really? You were going to steal Nayinis’s story for this?”

I slammed another piece of paper on the table. Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw read it.

“Potential Narrative Infraction Sixty-Eight. Gross misappropriation of The Three Fates.”

“ What the fuck were you thinking? Greg was going to use them.” I asked.

“That was the author’s choice!” The narrator was crying now. Good, maybe we’d get through to him.

“And speaking of Greg!” I motioned to Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw.

“Potential Narrative Infraction Seventy: Main character theft.”

“Greg wasn’t using her!”

“But he had her reserved.” I said “He filled out the proper paperwork. Got the appropriate signatures. He even had plans to start last month, after his LitRPG zoning permit had been approved. His character sheet designs were just approved, too. He’s pretty upset.”

“I didn’t mean to upset Greg.”

“We’ll, you did.”

I pulled my chair back in and sat down in the uncomfortable metal chair. I took a sip from my dark, black, coffee, and motioned to Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw for a rat. The rat squirmed in my hand as I gesticulated.

“Look, narrator, I’m not trying to be mean. I’m really not.” I dropped the rat into my throat, and swallowed it. “And really, we don’t mind your narration style. It’s unique. It’s funny…sometimes. We like it, and it seems like it’s really resonating with the audience.”

“Really?”

“Yup. The numbers don’t lie.”

“That’s good.”

“But-”

“But what?”

“We’re worried.” I said. “We’re worried that the story you are trying to tell is too…ambitious. It has so many side characters, side plots, and people to track. And you haven’t even started on Emma’s plot yet, really.”

I set the print on demand copy of The Slightly Late Show down on the cold metal table, and slided it across to the narrator.

“Hunted by a vengeful gunslinger from Earth?” I said.

“That’s the plan.” the narrator said.

“It’s a hundred pages in, and she’s not even hunting him yet.”

“Well, it takes time to get to these things. The author and I are working together to figure this out. There’s clearly a direction they want to take things, but there’s been some hiccups, as you’ve read.”

“Yes.” I grimaced.

“Killer-throatslitter-taxevasion-littering.” he said.

The sword was a problem. A villain intended for that early in the book shouldn’t have that kind of narrative control. It was a relief to hear that even he realized that it was out of the ordinary.

“And you talked to the author about it, I assume?”

“Yeah. Not in the outline either.”

“Is there really an outline?” I asked. The narrator shrugged. Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw took another rat from his jean rat sack and swallowed it. He handed me another rat.

“Alright, now that you’re calmer, I’ve got some good news, and some bad news. First: we’re keeping you. The execs like your style. Even if it’s a bit unorthodox.”

The narrator lit up.

“The bad news is: you’re on probation. You’re a loose canon, narrator.” I said. The narrator nodded.

“And that means?”

“This means that any narrative requests for additional main characters will have to be vetted personally by your probation officer.”

“But what about Emma’s storyline? I had plans for that-”

“Let me finish.” I swallowed the rat in my hands and continued, “this also means that you will report any narrative abnormalities to the Fiction Bureau of Interlocutors immediately. You will go through all proper administrative procedures.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked.

“Indefinite paid leave, with benefits.” I said. It was a harsh punishment for those that broke the rules, but fair.

“Alright, so I report to you about everything? That isn’t too bad.”

“Me? I’m not your probation officer.” I said.

“Then who.”

I looked at Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw and smiled.

“I think you know.”

“Oh no, don’t you fucking dare! A paper-pushing kobold is just going to weigh me down. Dead weight. I operate alone. I’m a loose canon!”

“So you want indefinite paid leave? Because I’ll give you indefinite paid leave!” I threatened.

The narrator gulped. He knew I would go through on it. I had him by the balls. Wriggle out of this.

“No ma’am.”

Good.

“But seriously, what the hell am I going to do about Emma’s storyline? I don’t have any other characters to throw at her.”

“Talk to your probation officer.” I said.

“That only character I have available is a talking ‘W’!”

“Figure. It. Out.” I said, gesturing to Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw for another rat. I swallowed it. “Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw will talk further with you about the terms of your probation. I have another meeting to catch.”

I stood up, and left the bleak interior of the interrogation chamber with a smile on my face. The narrator didn’t even realize I had taken control, so he had been “narrating” the whole time.

I gave him control of the narrative once again.

***

The humble, attractive, and intelligent narrative gracefully accepted his punishment, and turned to his new probation officer.

“It’s kind of gross when she eats rats.” the narrator said to Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw. He nodded. The kobold left an awkward silence between the two remaining people in the room. Intentionally trying to disrupt the narrator’s incredible flow he had maintained throughout the chapter.

“I don’t hate you. You know. Just doing a job. I have rats to buy.” Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw said. Perhaps, just perhaps, the supremely talented narrator and the paper-pusher kobold were going to get along.

“So. For Emma’s storyline. Those main characters I requested…”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your request was denied.”

“But Mary Shelley’s not even using him, she’s dead and-”

“Denied.”

The narrator took the denial in stride, and did not cry our pout about it. Nor did he let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Okay. Fine. Then who can I use? I’m out of characters.” the narrator asked.

“I have one idea.” Uiasdmnzx’Mansdjhqiuw swallowed another rat. “Jenna already approved it, but you’re not going to like it.”

He told me.

I did not like it. I did not like it at all. I mean, how would that even work?