She stopped. There was a commotion down the street. Well, that was... Oh no. No. It couldn't be.
The sound of a cybernetic laser bouncing off of a 24-carat gold chain shattered the silent dawn.
"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING here?" She shouted, grabbing a certain Soviet cyborg by the scruff of his neck and glaring at Mr. T angrily. "This was supposed to be MY big scene. MINE!" She turned to face the Cyborg, who looked sheepishly at the ground. "And I thought you were fired."
"I was. I couldn't get a job anywhere else. Please give me some food?"
Disgusted, she threw the Cyborg at Mr. T and turned to face an inconspicuous van labeled "FNORD" that had sat unnoticed on street until now. "And what's with this van? You don't really think that labeling it FNORD is going to hide anything, do you?"
The men inside tried to look inconspicuous.
Camila rolled her eyes, then threw herself to the ground as a massive floating battlestation piloted by Emperor Jim floated in to view overhead. It was engaged in a firefight with a second battlestation, this one crackling with magick and piloted by Elvira, mistress of the Dark. Both battlestations broke off from fighting each other occasionally to join forces and face other opponents, such as Dark Goddess Melissa, Imperial Star Destroyers and the Devil.
"Dem floating battlestations get bigger every day," one of the two old men on the porch of a nearby house noted. "What'll dey think of next?" The other man nodded, half-asleep.
Seated around a large table, floating above a cloud several thousand feet in the air, a large group of authors was watching the show and arguing with each other. "Stupid Ki had to take episode 200,000..." one of them mumbled under his breath.
"But the real funny thing about it," said God, gesturing with the hand that was holding his Dry Martini and splashing several of the authors in the process, "is that YOU think you're just writing about me writing about YOU, while I'M actually writing about YOU write about me writing about you. If you get what I'm driving at. It's almost metaphysical, in a way!"
"Shut up, God. We've heard that enough times already." another author snapped.
Camila took a deep breath. "No, ALL of you shut up. This is the BE addventure, got it? And, with the possible exceptions of Elvira, Melissa, and some female conceptions of God, none of you have anything to do with BE."
One of the authors raised his hand. "Hey," he shouted indignantly, "we write BE!"
Camila favored him with a flat glare. "I don't care what you write (loser!). You aren't a real author -- you don't even have a proper name!" He looked like he would reply to that, but she interrupted him before he could. "And I don't want to get into some sort of metaphysical discussion or anything like that! I want to have SEX oozing out of every line of this episode! I want brutal, gut-wrenching bodily transformations involving breasts! I want..." Finally, exasperated beyond words, she threw up her hands. "Oh, forget it! You people are completely hopeless! We're up to episode 200,000 already and you still can't crack down and write a storyline! Well, you know what -- I quit! This is only the second episode I've been in, but I know when I don't belong... You'll never catch me hanging around wierdos like YOU again."
There was much shuffling of feet among the assorted characters. Finally, the Cyborg stepped forward. "Well, erm, you know, we do have options... We can accommodate everyone, right?"
Tue Jan 15 22:14:01 2002
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