Uncooperative Characters

The author stared at the blank screen and willed himself to think of a storyline. Any storyline would do. He could expand upon it or patch it up later. But he couldn���t take another hour of this idiotic writer���s block, this painful constipation of words. He was going to pen something today if it killed him. So what if it sounded like a bad idea at first? Many great works of fiction began with a stupid premise. A man wakes up to find he has turned into a gigantic insect, for example. Or some boys get stranded on a desert island and start to kill one another. Or an evil ring must be destroyed. (Tolkien managed to get three large books out of that one.)

���Death is always a good character,��� suggested Death.

The author turned around to find a black-robed figure sitting in the La-z-boy recliner. A black-handled scythe was leaning against the grandfather clock. The grim reaper held a can of hard cider in one bony hand and some peanuts in the other. Every few seconds, he would toss a peanut into the dark void of his cowl where it disappeared, never to return. The remaining peanuts trembled with fear.

���I already wrote a short story about Death,��� said the author. ���You were on a beach, remember? And stop eating my peanuts.���

���Write another one about me. I���m telling you, Death never gets old. I could SPEAK IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS IF YOU LIKE.���

���No. Terry Pratchett already played that card, and much better than I ever could. Besides, I kind of maxed out on capital letters in my first novel, The Coyote. I���m afraid my computer will run out of them if I keep it up.���

���How about a different font, then? Something powerful and ominous?��� Death suggested.

���Better, but I dunno ��� I was thinking more along the lines of a romantic comedy /magical pirate western, with maybe a sci-fi teenage slasher horror vibe. Something with gratuitous sex and violence but conveying a compassionate message that all mankind can embrace.���

Death delivered eternal rest to the remaining peanuts and grabbed another handful from the bowl. ���In other words, you don���t have a clue what to write about, do you?���

���No.���

���Well, in that case, I see only one option,��� said Death.

���You don���t mean���?���

���Yes. You must hold a Zoom meeting of the stock characters.���

It only took a few hours to organize. Naturally, due to the short notice, some of the most popular stock characters were unavailable. Prince Charming, Girl Next Door, Sleazy Politician, and Wise Old Man had prior commitments. Mad Scientist, Dark Lord, Dumb Blonde, and Bug-Eyed Monster were in locations without internet connectivity, and Humorous Drunk Guy was ���indisposed,��� having never gotten over the damage to his reputation from the movie Arthur several decades ago.

There were still plenty of stereotypes online when the author entered in his Zoom meeting I.D. and password. The computer screen was filled with little rectangular boxes, each containing a small video image of a standard fictional character.

���Good evening, everyone. I am the author, and I���d like to welcome you to tonight���s Zoom meeting on the topic of my new short story, as yet unnamed. I���m hoping to get some inspiration and insights from each of you as we brainstorm possible plots. Remember, there are no bad ideas on this call! So please don���t criticize other characters��� suggestions. To minimize unnecessary embarrassment, I will quietly discard all the crappy concepts after the Zoom call is over. Death is here with me, and he���ll be taking notes during these proceedings. Who���d like to begin?���

���Well, I guess I���ll run this up the flagpole and see who salutes it,��� said Hard-As-Nails-Gunslinger-With-A-Heart-Of-Gold. ���How���s about Femme Fatale and I get together to investigate the disappearance of her husband, for starters?��� Femme Fatale signaled her agreement by crossing her legs and raising a coquettish eyelash.

���Yeah, okay,��� seconded Evil Clown, ���But it turns out the husband���s dead, killed by yours truly, and I go on to kill his Sleazy Lawyer and Sleazy Banker as well. Of course, the reader won���t know that it���s me at first.���

���Sounds like a good start to me,��� said Death.

���I thought Sleazy Lawyer had another commitment tonight,��� said the author.

���No, I���m here,��� said Sleazy Lawyer. ���It was my friend, Sleazy Politician, who had the conflict.���

���Oh, my mistake.���

���I���d like to volunteer my services at this juncture,��� said Red Herring. ���You can direct the initial attention to me as the likely assassin.���

���But then I���ll have to kill you,��� said Evil Clown.

���Of course,��� replied Red Herring. ���But not too soon.���

Evil Clown rolled his painted eyes. ���Please. Give me some credit. I���m a professional.���

���No offense meant, Your Clownship.���

���None taken, Red. It���ll be great working with you again.���

���Hang on a minute, this plot seems too male-oriented,��� said the Female Chosen One. ���Maybe I should get in on the action.���

���Okay, point taken, but isn���t the Chosen One a Vampire Slayer? I don���t think we require your services, since there are no vampires in this tale,��� said the author.

���That can be fixed,��� said Bloodsucking Vampire.

���Not so fast. This is a short story, not a 5-book epic series,��� replied the author.

���Tut, tut. No criticisms. Remember the ground rules,��� said Death.

���Oops. My bad,��� said the author.

Female Chosen One put on her pouty face. ���The Chosen One is not limited to fighting vampires. I���ve slain many an Evil Clown in my day.���

���I can attest to that,��� said Evil Clown.

���Very well,��� said the author. ���That���s good for starters. I���ll consider it. But let���s get a few more ideas on the board for me to choose from. Anyone else?���

���How about if a cockroach named Gregor were to wake up one morning to find he had been transformed into a tiny human?��� said Tiny Human.

���Yes, and then he is shunned by his fellow bugs,��� said Monster-Eyed Bug.

���You���re here? I thought ������ started the author.

���Bug-Eyed Monster is out of town. I���m Monster-Eyed Bug,��� clarified the bug.

���Oh, right.���

���Or how about a horror story about a bloodsucking vampire?��� suggested Bloodsucking Vampire. ���Although I should point out right away that I���m a dues-paying member of the Stock Characters Union and your usage of my character will need to comply with all union rules.���

���Um, I���m not sure if I���m completely familiar with ������

���I can help out with that,��� said Sleazy Lawyer. ���I���m employed by the Union. A full description of the rules would take too long to explain on this call, but just let me highlight the biggies. And I���m available for consultation to discuss the rest. At reasonable rates, of course. First, union members must be afforded with frequent coffee and relaxation breaks, so my client can only appear on odd-numbered pages of your story. You���re perfectly welcome to have other characters talk about him on the even pages, as long as he isn���t present.���

���That sounds unduly restrictive,��� said the author.

���You���ll figure it out. Second, you cannot defame my client���s character and you must always defend his honor during your narration.���

���But he���s a Bloodsucking Vampire!��� exclaims the author.

���That���s Honorable Bloodsucking Vampire to you and your readers. Third, my client can only die at the hand of another member of the union. Fourth, he is not permitted to utter any words beginning with the letters q, v, x, and z, because all such words have been deemed to be silly and inappropriate.���

���You mean, like Vampire?���

Sleazy Lawyer stopped for a moment. ���I take your point. We may be able to get a waiver of that particular rule in this case. If you would prepare a written list of the words you would need, I could seek the necessary approvals for a small fee.���

���None of this is going to make me particularly inclined to hire a union member, is it?��� asked the author.

Sleazy Lawyer frowned and said, ���I hope your last comment doesn���t imply a bias against the Union. Because refusal to hire one of our members solely because he or she belongs to the Union is illegal and we would prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. And perhaps I should have mentioned earlier that I am recording this entire Zoom call for possible legal use.���

There was a long silence.

���Just out of curiosity, how many of you are union members?��� asked the author.

Everyone raised their hand except for Death and the Terrifying Space Alien.

���Oh my God,��� exclaimed the author.

���Ahem,��� said Honorable Bloodsucking Vampire. ���In addition to the Union rules, I will also have one condition of my own.���

���And what might that be?��� asked the author.

���It���s nothing much. I simply don���t want to work opposite Female Chosen One again. Frankly, she gets on my nerves with that holier-than-thou attitude of hers.���

���Now just a darn minute, you bloodsucking������ began Female Chosen One.

���Honorable bloodsucking,��� corrected Sleazy Lawyer.

���People, people, let���s keep this civil, please,��� said Death.

���We���re just putting together ideas here, folks. There���s no need to mark your territory,��� said the author. ���Please continue, Honorable Bloodsucking Vampire. If Female Chosen One is not your nemesis, then who is?���

���That���s your decision; you���re the writer. Perhaps Old Wise Man?���

���He���s not available right now due to a prior commitment,��� said the author.

���Not so fast, sonny. I am available,��� said Old Wise Man.

���But ������

���Look, it���s Wise Old Man who���s absent. I���m Old Wise Man.���

���But ��� what���s the difference?���

���Are you daft, author? It���s self-evident. He���s an old man who happens to be wise. I, on the other hand, am a wise man who happens to be old.���

���I see.���

���And you call yourself a wordsmith,��� Old Wise Man scoffs.

Ignoring the slight, the author says, ���Why don���t we hear from some of the stock characters who have remained silent thus far? You there, in the red shirt. What���s your name?���

���Who, me? I���m Redshirt.���

���Um, help me out here. What exactly is your role?���

���Well, I���m the guy who gets very little introduction and is the first to die. You know, like in the original Star Trek episodes? There���d always be some young ensign who beams down to the planet and gets killed by the Bug-Eyed Monster before the first commercial. He���s usually wearing a red shirt. That was me,��� Redshirt says proudly.

���Oh, I see. Thank you, Redshirt. And the person or thing to your right? What���s your deal?���

���I am Terrifying Space Alien. I generally don���t have a speaking part.���

���Yes, your slime-dripping tentacles certainly are intimidating, I���ll grant you that. And what is your particular specialty?���

���May I demonstrate?���

���Of course. That���s what we���re here for.���

Terrifying Space Alien suddenly dissolved into nothingness, then rematerialized right behind Redshirt. He wrapped his tentacles around the man and squeezed until Redshirt���s head exploded, covering his box with blood.

Teenage Scream Queen looked up from the box directly below and screamed.

���Well done, Terrifying Space Alien,��� said Death. ���I give you nine points for style, but minus two points for excessive gore. The author wishes to remain unnamed, but I can disclose that he is not Quentin Tarantino.���

Terrifying Space Alien rematerialized inside his own box and said, ���I���m sorry to hear that, Death. But if you happen to bump into Mr. Tarantino in the future, I���d really appreciate it if you could put in a good word for me.���

���I certainly will,��� said Death. ���I do some consulting for him fairly frequently.���

���I was pretty good too, wasn���t I, Mr. Death?��� fawned Teenage Scream Queen.

���Oh, yes,��� said Death. ���It was a very nice scream, my dear. Ear-piercing, I should say.��� Teenage Scream Queen blushed.

���OH MY GOD! WE���RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!��� shouted Delayed-Reaction Pessimist.

���Hey, watch it with those capital letters,��� cautioned the author. ���They don���t grow on trees.���

���What about you, Evil Henchman?��� prodded Death. ���You���ve been unusually quiet this evening.���

���Oh, just call me Igor. Everyone does,��� said Evil Henchman. ���But honestly, I don���t even know why I logged onto this call. I never work solo, you see, and Mad Scientist is vacationing in Peru. Thus, I���m not currently in a position to hench.���

���Maybe you should reconsider your solo prohibition policy, Igor. You don���t always have to be paired up with Mad Scientist. What if I featured you in a story with Absentminded Professor? It could create an interesting dynamic,��� suggested the author.

���I���d be up for that,��� said Absentminded Professor.

���Hmm. It could be interesting to hench for a good guy. But would I still be evil?��� asked Evil Henchman, a.k.a. Igor.

���Of course,��� said the author. ���That���s what I mean about the dynamic. Absentminded Professor could think he���s doing good, but you steer him toward evil without his knowledge.���

���I���d be up for that,��� said Absentminded Professor. ���What were we talking about, again?���

���Very interesting,��� said Evil Henchman. ���Igor will consider this suggestion, thank you.���

���sorry,��� said Delayed-Reaction Pessimist. ���i didn���t mean to speak in all capital letters before. i just got carried away. i hope I didn���t blow my chances for a spot, but i know i probably did. this kind of thing is always happening to me. my life sucks.���

���Really, Delayed-Reaction Pessimist, don���t worry about it,��� said the author. Then addressing the entire group, he said, ���Well, everyone, our time limit on Zoom is almost up.���

���Only because you���re too cheap to buy the version without a time limit,��� muttered Old Wise Man.

The author continued undeterred. ���I���d like to thank you for participating in today���s video call. It���s been very instructive and you���ve given me lots to think about. I���ll contact you directly if you���re a potential fit for my story, once I���ve decided upon an appropriate plot.���

���I���ll be holding my breath with anticipation,��� said Old Wise Man.

���Again, thank you for ������

The screen went blank and a small message box appeared. ���Your Zoom meeting has ended.���

���Well, did you find that helpful?��� asked Death.

���I don���t know. They weren���t exactly the most cooperative bunch of characters I���ve ever worked with.���

���But it gave you some ideas to consider, I hope?���

���Perhaps. A few.���

���Well, I must be going. I have an appointment in Samarra tonight. Toodles.���

Death suddenly disappeared from the La-z-boy with a small ���pop.���

Writer���s Block Author turned back to his computer and stared at the blank screen.

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Pete Simons