David's Story

Story-enhancing drugs aren't cool, kids. More of a vignette than a full-fledged story.

Half of David’s job at the small-town diner was just flattening boxes, he thought glumly, throwing another floppy cardboard slab into the recycling bin. The other half was covering for whatever drunken employee had decided not to show up that day, which could entail anything from cooking to dish washing to cleaning up some kid’s spaghetti vomit on the tile floor. But, David had to admit, he liked the peace and quiet he got flattening boxes in the alley.

            He was lost in his own world contemplating these and other things when a shifty-looking man shuffled up to him.

            “Hey,” the man grunted.

            David looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

            “Pretty boring story you’re in, huh?” the man continued, in a sleazy sort of voice. “Folding boxes at a restaurant or whatever.”

            “Could be worse,” David answered, chucking another piece of cardboard into the bin. “I could be in that one story where the Author straight-up destroys the world with flying cuttlefish, or overwrote the will of that British guy with the mole people in his basement.”

            The old man moved closer.

            He opened up his coat, just a bit. There were little packets of little white powder sewn into the lining.

            “I could get you something to spice it up a bit,” he said, trying to sound tempting.

            David shrugged. “I’m not really into story-enhancing drugs.”

            The man pointed to a select packet near his elbow.

            “Lookit this beauty. This one gives you a long-lost twin with which you have a psychic connection, and pits you against each other! Exciting, right?”

            “No thanks.”

            “This one!” the man said, opening up the other side of his trenchcoat. “This turns the story into a spy thriller. You get a laser watch, and a suit, and a hot redhead sidekick.”

            David picked up his last piece of cardboard. He avoided eye contact with the dubious stranger. “I’m not interested.”

            “Wait! I’ve got… horror! Sci-fi! Romance!” he cried desperately, trying to block David’s way back into the restaurant. “Don’t try and tell me you’d rather be here than trekking through the green fields of New Zealand on a high fantasy quest! I’m sure I have something you'd like!”

            David took a deep breath in. He let the deep breath out.

            “I don’t want anything,” he said resolutely. “I work at a restaurant in a four-hundred-word story. I don’t have time for your fantasy quests and spy stories. I’m really busy. Honestly, all I’m trying to do right now is save up for a nice conclusion when I’m older. I don’t want your second-rate plotlines ruining what I’ve got going for myself.”

            David shook his head tiredly, and went inside.

            “Fine then,” the old man grumbled, slinking off into the shadows, his wares untouched.

Reviews

[Autumn]

Absolutely amazing! This idea was so creative and out of the box. I never thought characters could break the fourth wall with another character asking for a different plot line. It sort of reminds me of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams. It was different, but a good different.

[Sarah Wilson]

Wow! This is great! It's hilarious. If you wanted an actual edit i would say its a little choppy and there are spaces missing between words, but I actually think this could make for an interesting book. Half of it could be just him trying to live his life while crazy stuff is happening around him and people keep trying to drag him into some complex story line and he just is like nope. I'm rolling with laughter! Good job!