I am moving this story forward.

Rafael nudged the drying patch on the jacket still wrapped around his arm gingerly, "That's just great. Just great. That way we can all heal up and things will be forgotten."

You are angry.

"You bet I am. You manipulated reality to get us into that situation -- if Scott hadn't broken through the plot barrier and let us out, we would have died."

Only temporarily. It's just a story.

"Well, it hurts anyway. Why did you do that?"

To push you into action. The story is yours. You should have saved yourself.

"What do you think I am?"

An Original Character.

"No, you mean a Gary Stu. You wanted a Gary Stu. I'm not one, sorry."

Alas, you are not. I did try to get one.

"So I gathered."

I even tried to trade you in after you ruined the water scenario, but they don't usually allow returns. They did give me another Original Character to compensate me . . . and suggested I redraw your contract.

"You're letting me go? That's fine with . . . "

No, I'm not letting you go. They don't suggest that. I just redrew your contract. I will also set the other Original Character as your adversary.

"And he's a Gary Stu, isn't he?"

Hmmm . . . if you wish to use that term, yes. She is a Mary Sue. She is extremely powerful -- almost all-powerful in fact, possessed of great excesses of angst, but strangely lovable, possibly because she is incredibly beautiful . . .

"Don't tell me I'm supposed to fall in love with her."

No, that didn't go so well last time. You were also supposed to fall in love with Rogue, but you only exhibited physical attraction and only briefly for some reason.

"She was evil!"

That's no excuse. You don't follow the plotline well and that has to be fixed.

"By the redrawn contract, huh?"

I suppose you wish to see it.

"You bet. What are you going to do? Demand me to be angsty and bellegerent so I'll better fit your plot?"

Hmmmm . . . you could almost say that. We remember what we agreed originally? Five foot four, ninety pounds, Chinewayn, nearly useless power -- take careful note of the changes.

Rafael blinked in alarm as a sparse pair of papers appeared in his free hand. He read calmly for a second -- but only a second. Brow furrowing was perhaps inevitable, but perhaps not flinging the contract angrily to the ground, "You can't do that! That's . . . that's . . . that's sadistic, that's inhuman, that's not even logical."

Funny that you should call it inhuman.

"What's wrong with you?"

I'll get what I want.

"How can you do that to me?" he cried.

It's remarkably easy. Just words on a page. Just words on a page.