Tevun-Krus #80 - WattPunk 2.0

Part Eleven

27

Everyone stared blankly. Even Lord WattPad. Even Ree-bot—though him being permanently disabled made his blank staring not too surprising. Okay, @TheGorillatan didn't, since he was still asleep.

"That was weird," Olive said.

"Reminded me of Alice in Wonderland," said Rick.

"Reminded me of More Than Meets the Eye," Mike intoned—because, to be perfectly honest, he was goddamn tired of just "saying" stuff. "Remember that one, Olive?"

She nodded.

"HmhmhehehahahaHAHEHHA HEH haaa!" Lord WattPad laughed, but you already knew that. "Is that all you foolish peasants got from that? Well, good. That's why you're losers. You don't see a grade-A magikal spell when it's right under your noses! Fools! Begone from here! Flee from my Pleasure Tower and I'll ignore this transgression! You will live meaningless lives from here on out, but you will live nonetheless! What say you, dumbasses?"

"What's he bitching about now?" asked Olive. "Magik spells?"

"Idiot girl! Magik is real, it is imbued in the words we write! You would know such a thing if you weren't so dim! That 'how-to guide,' as you call it, is far more than that! It is the Bible of the faith by which we live our lives! It is the key to the doorway of the soul! It is— Ow!"

Mike drew back his fist again. "Need another fist injection?"

Snapping his fingers, Rick rushed over to the laptop. "I've got it! All his talk about magik was just a load of crap to steer us away from the obvious solution to our problems." His fingers tip-tapped away.

"What's that?" Olive asked. "We're just going to write him out of our world?"

"We've got a perfectly good world right in this how-to guide," Rick said. "We'll write him into it."

"How does that make sense?" Mike asked, because he could tell the readers were asking themselves the same question.

"I dunno, but something about that last story really bent the rules a bit, I think."

"Something about this feels a bit... underwhelming," Olive said.

"Yeah," Mike agreed. "I thought it would be an epic battle between good and evil, with lots of explosions and roller-skating monkeys who fire rocket launchers and stuff."

"That's the problem with expectations," Rick said sagely, as if he'd been empowered with the spirit of a guy currently typing away at a keyboard who was getting tired of the story in question but needed to get it done. Not that that was actually the case—oh no. "When your expectations don't match the reality of the situation, it can negatively affect your enjoyment of said reality. The moral of the story," he added, finishing off the last sentence of Lord WattPad's new existence, "is to never expect a thing. That way you can't be disappointed."

"What about my feelings on this matter?" Lord WattPad asked. "Guys? Guys?"

"Nobody cares what you think, dumbass," Rick said. He hit CTRL+S and watched the real technomagik take place right in front of him.

Shrieking like a banshee, Lord WattPad tried to escape from his shackles, tried to find his freedom. But it was too late. The words had been written, and reality had been rewritten. The deed had been done.