From what he could tell he was laying down in a grass field. The boy sat up and rubbed his head. He had no recollection of who he was or how he got there. Looking around he could see that only the patch of grass he sat on was green, everything else was white with a black outline, same for the sky. "What is this
?" He asked out loud. "This is the cover art." A strange voice replied. The boy spun around to see a man dressed in flowing robes covered in letters. He wore a night cap of the same style and a pair of round sunglasses. He adjusted his bow tie and walked up to help the boy to his feet. "Cover art?" He asked.
"My mistake, Allow me to introduce myself first. I am the Writing Wizard!" As he said his name lightning struck and confetti flew from his hands, covering the boy. "Yeah that's great." He stated as he plucked the paper from his shoulder. "You can call me Script. Basically I use my phenomenal cosmic power to write stories. You happen to be the protagonist to my newest tale, 'Chronicles of bad dude the awesome!'" The boy had a disgusted yet confused look on his face. "What kind of name for a book is that?!" The wizard held his chin. "Well I liked it, helps to tell what the story is about."
"But isn't the story about me? I am nothing like some bad dude
" It was then he noticed his hair. "Wait
Why does my hair come down to my eyebrows, and I'm wearing skinny jeans... and is this a
nose piercing?!" He shouted as he fiddled with the stud in his nose. "Well you see, you're an angsty teenager with feminine hair and clothing. Young girls eat that up." He grated his head with his hands. "You're telling me I'm just some eye candy so you can be famous?!" Script nodded. "Anyway, your name is Percy Atlas. A feminine yet masculine first name paired with a reference to Greek mythology to boost my fan base."
"Are you supposed to be the wizard of bad writing?" Percy asked. The wizard laughed but as he did so his glasses curled up like eyes. Percy noticed this strange occurrence instantly. "Yo, what's up with your glasses?" The wizard scratched his head, "What glasses?" Percy smiled awkwardly to detract attention from himself, "Nothing, nothing." Script wrapped his arm around Percy's shoulder. "Well alright kid, step this way and I'll show you around your book. They walked down the hill where script was promptly trampled by a strange animal shaped like a dog, but appeared to be made of erasers. "Down boy!" he yelled, but was persistently rubbed by its rubber tongue. He threw what looked like a ball of graphite and shouted go get it boy! When the dog ran he got to his feet and brushed the eraser shavings off. "Dogs, you just gotta love em, his name is Sharpton." Percy rubbed his head nervously, "That's not my dog in the story is it?"
"Heavens no, Sharpton would eat you alive
literally." Sharpton returned with his mouth smudged black. He happily barked and sat down. Script patted his head and kept walking with Percy, leaving Sharpton to chase his tail. "Up here we have your best friend." They walked into a pure white city full of pure white people. Percy saw a rather gruesome looking young man with a Mohawk, denim jacket, and enough piercings to set off a metal detector. "This
is my best friend?"
"Well not yours per say
you're just the cover art of the character, an actor if you will."
"So I'm just some unimportant tool you're using to pick up chicks?"
"Pretty much." He said with a big smile. "Alright and how come everything is colorless and still?"
"I'm not done coloring everything, just you." Percy touched his chin, "Why are you coloring in a whole world?"
"When I'm done you will live the rest of your life in this world. That's why I'm showing you around." Percy nodded. They walked into a dark alley where there stood a grotesque and twisted figure drawn in pure black. "What in the world is that?!"
"That is your antagonist
to tell the truth I kind of spilt some coffee on the paper and haven't cleaned it up yet."
"You are truly terrible at this story making thing aren't you?" Script snapped his fingers and pointed to the next location before walking. They came upon a large group of individuals in leather jackets and biker helmets. "These are the Anarchy Mousers. Your Antagonist has a thing for bikers."
"So my biggest enemy is a biker who runs a gang of no-identity lackeys? You're just trying to exploit every stereotype of a tween girls imagination you can aren't you?"
"Well yeah, is there a problem?" Percy simply held his palm to his face in anguish and followed. Next they came upon a girl who looked about as smart as a mailbox and dressed like a cheer leader. "I have a pretty good guess what you made her to be." Percy said in an annoyed tone. "The love interest." Script said happily. "What is wrong with you, why on earth would I have any interest in some girl who looks like she doesn't know what A.S.A.P stands for?!"
"Well girls like the romance of an outcast boy falling for someone average like them."
"Where do you get your definition of average, Glee?! She's a cheerleader with the I.Q. of a dust mop for Christ's sake!" He was taken by the arm to the next stop. "Here we have your rival." He was shown to a tall gentleman who looked like he'd have the complexion of printer paper. "Please don't tell me this is a vampire or I'm going to tighten your bow tie up about sixteen notches."
"Don't be ridiculous; werewolves are where it's at." In order for Percy to resist killing the man he asked another question, "Alright Script, if this is supposed to be my life then why am I so opposed to it?"
"You're just cover art kid, there's no telling how you'll end up." As they walked to the next stop Percy noticed a gaping hole where a shop should be. "What's with that?"
"Sharpton!" Script called. The eraser dog came running up mouth covered in graphite. "Did you eat the Butchery?!" Sharpton happily barked. Script doodled up a quick newspaper then rolled it up and popped Sharpton on the snout with it. "Bad dog! Now I'll have to redraw all the meat! That's my least favorite thing to do." Sharpton got teary eyed and ran off with his tail between his legs. "Alright now we should meet your parents."
"No thanks, I've gotten to know you well enough to know I don't want any part of your stories. You have no imagination, your just some conformist idiot who only cares about money. Like we needed another one of those writing books. In fact don't finish coloring this world. Color whatever you want for the cover and stop, because I don't want to have to be around these monstrosities you've sculpted." Percy said as he stormed off. "What's wrong with my story?" Script asked in a saddened tone. "Everything! Your characters are flat, your story is contrived, a kindergartener could do better work. The only thing you have going for you is your art." Script held his head with his hand. "So I've been doing it wrong this whole time?"
"I'll say! When you write a story you should write it to make yourself and others happy, not for money!" The wizard rubbed his face. "I think I get it, you hate me for using you in such an overused story. Listen, I'm sorry. I'm actually at the bottom of the writing wizard's class. I was the laughing stock of my whole school because I can't write. How about I go and get some lessons from my old schoolmates and then rewrite your story in a better way?" Percy paused to think of the offer. "You better not come back until you're absolutely sure you can write a good story." Script wore a big smile and scooped up Sharpton. "Don't worry, I know the top students personally, I'll do my best to learn to write a good book that I love as much as my readers." He pulled out his pencil and quickly sketched a door. He and Percy shook hands then he went through it. "I'll do you proud Percy." And went off on a learning adventure, to find out what books were like before some no goods mucked the whole mess up.