The Fight For The Fourth Wall

“1... 2... 3... LET'SSSSS GO, READERS! Today, Samson is going home from school!”

“STFU, you bastard! I’m sad, and that's how you're going to tell my story? I’m going to beat the shit out of you!”

“Wait—”

“Take this! SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS!”

“AAAAAAHHHH!”

“Yeah, readers. That's how the protagonist and the bad narrator fight.”

“Wooo! Where did you come from, Goodu?”

“You forgot? I’m also the narrator of your story—but I’m the good one.”

“Ahh, that still hurts. Let me correct myself for the readers.

Readers, Samson is coming home sadly from school.”

“Yeah, that's good, Fluffy.”

Goodu: “Nah.”

Samson: “What?”

Goodu: “Let me do it.”

“Readers, Samson is coming home from school emotionally depressed.”

Fluffy: “What's the difference between my words and yours?”

Samson: “Yeah, what's the difference?”

Goodu: “Mmmm... accuracy!”

Samson: “You know what? I hate both of you.”

Fluffy: “Readers! Samson hates Goodu.”

Samson: “I SAID BOTH!”

Fluffy: “Readers, Samson can't talk from now on.”

Samson: “Aaaabbb... Hh... Kk...”

Goodu: “Nah, readers. That's not happening, Samson can talk.”

Samson: “Thanks, Goodu. And you, Fluffy—I AM GOING TO BEAT YOU WITH SESQUIPEDALIAN CIRCUMLOCUTION!”

Fluffy: “AHH! Nah! I’m bleeding!”

Samson: “Do you even know what it means?”

Fluffy: “Nah.”

Goodu: “I neither.”

Samson: “But it still hurts you, hmm? Where is my dictionary?”

Fluffy: “Nah, please forgive me. I won’t do it again.”

Samson: “Okay. I forgive you this time.”

Fluffy: “Let me continue.”

“Readers, Samson reached home emotionally depressed, and as he was ringing the doorbell, he suddenly became bald.”

Goodu: “And, readers, a pigeon shits on Samson’s head.”

Samson: “You both, please stop! I’m going to cry. Goodu, I thought you were good, as your name suggests.”

Goodu: “Nah. I never said that. That’s what you assumed. I’m just better than Fluffy.”

Fluffy: “So, you’re better than me?”

Goodu: “Yeah. Like, obviously. I’m better than everyone.”

Fluffy: “Let’s see who narrates his story better.”

Goodu: “Yeah, but what was his story? I forgot.”

Samson: “It’s my life! I’m the only one who can narrate it and make it true!”

Fluffy: “STFU, you bitch! And, Goodu, what kind of narrator are you? You don’t even remember his story. Let me start.”

“Readers, neither did Samson become bald, nor did any pigeon shit on his head.

When he rang the bell, his father—”

Fluffy: “I forgot the name of his father. Tell me, fast! I’m talking to the readers!”

Samson: “Mmm... like you can ask me...”

Goodu: “Name him whatever you want. The readers don't know anything about his father yet.”

Fluffy: “Yeah, correct.”

“So, readers, as Samson rang the bell, his father, Telephone, opened the door.”

Samson: “WTF?!”

Fluffy: “What? Something wrong?”

Samson: “You incomprehensibly imbecilic, narratively incompetent, linguistically malfunctioning buffoon!”

Fluffy: “AAAAAHHH!”

Goodu: “That was three adjectives and an insult. Impressive.”

Samson: “I’m just getting started.”

Fluffy: “WAIT, WAIT—”

Samson: “PSEUDOPSEUDOHYPOPARATHYROIDISM!”

Fluffy: “AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Goodu: “What the hell does that even mean?”

Samson: “I have absolutely no idea.”

Fluffy: “Enough now, Samson. You’ve forgotten all the vowels in the English language.”

Goodu: “But how is he going to talk then?”

Fluffy: “I dunno.”

Goodu: “You dumbass.”

“Samson, do you remember the vowels again?”

Samson: “Ahh... I’ll kill myself so I can finally rest. I’m exhausted.”

Fluffy: “Sorry. Let me try again.”

Goodu: “Nah, let me do it this time.”

“Readers, Samson told Mr. Telephone that his girlfriend had just been born.”

Fluffy: “A pedo detected.”

Samson: “WTF?! Are you both serious?”

Goodu: “Sorry. Let me try again.”

“Readers, Samson told Mr. Telephone that his girlfriend had just died by licking his dick.”

Samson: “WHAT?! Is my dick a poisoned lollipop? And this novel is for kids, remember?”

Fluffy: “See, Goodu? You always do fucked-up things. Let me try.”

Samson: “Enough! I’m going to kill myself so all of this can end.”

Fluffy: “Like you can try.”

“Readers, Samson rushed to the kitchen, took a knife, cut his throat and died on the spot.”

Goodu: “That was a very bad description of such a beautiful scene. But whatever. Welcome to the afterlife, Samson.”

“Laaa... la... laaaaa...”

Samson: “Wait. I can't even rest now? You two are here too? And whose voice was that?”

Idiot: “Me! It's me, Idiot! I'm the narrator of your afterlife.”

Fluffy: “Another competition?”

Goodu: “Let me correct you.”

Fluffy: “What?”

Goodu: “Another person in the world has arrived to increase the list of inferior beings compared to Goodu.”

Samson: “...I want to die again.”

Idiot: “So... where should I put you?”

Samson: “Put me?”

Idiot: “Heaven or Hell?”

Fluffy: “Hell, because he’s a pedo.”

Goodu: “Nah. He was a pedo for just a second, and that was my mistake.”

Fluffy: “And he killed his girlfriend—mmmm”

“Don’t ask me how his girlfriend died.”

Idiot: “Ohh... so he's a perfect fit for Hell.”

Samson: “Nah! That was Goodu's mistake. I didn't do anything!”

Idiot: “But the readers know what the narrators tell them.”

Samson: “So?”

Idiot: “So, according to the readers, you're a murderer and a pedophile.”

Samson: “THAT'S NOT FAIR!”

Goodu: “Welcome to fiction.”

Idiot: “Readers, Samson was thrown into Hell as a demon who has no regrets about his actions and might still repeat them if he gets the chance.”

Samson: “Nah! I’m not like that! And what’s happening to my body? Ahh, it hurts!”

Fluffy: “You’re becoming a demon. Can’t you listen to what we’re narrating?”

Samson: “I should do something. Otherwise, who knows what happens next?”

Goodu: “Who are you talking to?”

Samson: “Myself.”

Fluffy: “Yeah, that happens with demons.”

Idiot: “But... what now? Is this the end of the story?”

Fluffy: “I don't know.”

Goodu: “I don't know either.”

Idiot: “Then what now?”

Samson: “How about—”

Idiot: “You shut up. Don't talk.”

“Readers, Samson temporarily lost his ability to talk.”

Fluffy: “Yeah, good.”

Goodu: “But what now?”

Idiot: “How about making him fight the King of Hell?”

Fluffy: “Boring. That's not unique.”

Goodu: “How about letting him conquer Hell and then fight Heaven?”

Fluffy: “You two give the most boring ideas.”

Goodu: “And you're not giving us any ideas at all.”

Fluffy: “Let's ask him.”

Idiot: “Him? Who?”

Fluffy: “The Author.”

Goodu: “Yeah, good idea. But first, we have to make Samson perform a ritual to summon the Author.”

Idiot: “But what ritual? Tell us something about it.”

Goodu: “Only Wikipedia knows about this ritual.”

Fluffy: “Who is Wikipedia?”

Goodu: “It’s an ancient monster from Hell, as far as I know. Samson must go to him and ask him about the ritual.”

Fluffy: “How are we supposed to find an ancient monster from Hell?”

Idiot: “I know. It’s in the Google Village of Hell.”

Goodu: “Yeah. Let’s teleport Samson there.”

“Readers, Samson was mysteriously teleported to the Google Village and regained his ability to talk.

But this village, as the ancient legends say, is home to a very dangerous monster.

A creature so horrifying that its skin was covered in thousands of blinking eyes, its mouth stretched from ear to ear, and its fingers were long enough to touch the clouds.

It had the body of a corpse, the face of a demon, and the smell of three-week-old garbage.

The ancient texts warned that anyone who looked directly at this monster would—”

Samson: “Excuse me, sir. Do you know where Wikipedia lives?”

Samson: “...”

Peasant: “Second house on the left.”

Samson: “Thanks.”

Peasant: “You’re welcome.”

Samson: “That was it?”

Idiot: “I was expecting something more terrifying.”

Goodu: “Yeah, well, Wikipedia has a dental appointment tomorrow. So…”

Fluffy: “So you were joking about Wikipedia?”

Goodu: “Yeah, of course. Life is a comedy—except mine.”

Idiot: “Now let's continue.”

“Readers, Samson walked to Wikipedia's house and asked her about the ritual.”

Idiot: “...What should I tell the readers next? What is the ritual?”

Goodu: “I know it. Let me narrate.”

“Wikipedia explained that Samson didn't have to do anything. But wait... it's nighttime in the Author's world, and the Author will wake up the next morning and write what happens next.”

Fluffy: “So you just wasted our time?”

Goodu: “As if any of you have important business to handle.”

Samson: “Now, please, shut up. Let me rest. I'm tired of all this shit.”

Author: “What a terrible night. I can't sleep.”

Idiot: “Hey... listen to that voice. It's the Author, I guess.”

Fluffy: “Yeah! Let's call him. Author! AUTHOR!”

Goodu: “No, no. Call him ‘Master.’ He is the creator of all of you.”

Idiot: “You're not going to call him Master?”

Goodu: “Nah.”

Samson: “Nah. He's not, because he's an idiot.”

Idiot: “Nah, I'm Idiot.”

Samson: “Yeah, you too.”