<A gray screen sputters to life, snapping a bit here and jetting around
with all the tremors and jumbles of an ancient school projector... or
California property bought amazingly cheap from a smiling old prospector
with a nervous twitch. A Globe looms out of the black and white fog, a
lone Norwegian gray circling it's massive surface and a logo appears...>


    OtakuNXS presents...


        In Association with Mad Bad Bishonen Lad Productions...


            The Fourth Wall And You, or Why Johnny Can't Fic


<screens fades to black, then reappears, this time in a incredibly well
kept bedroom. No posters, a clean bed, a model Valkrye on a wire, a
manga tossed on the pillow in an anal retentive sort of rebellion...
hah! Mom, surgical corners my Bondage Fairies while your at it... but
mostly, it's a model of what every bedroom should look like. That is, if
your last name were Cleaver, or Walton. The camera spends an inordinate
amount of time panning around these elements, just to make sure all
viewers are sufficiently self conscious about they're own state of
affairs... before finally settling on a young man sitting in front of a
computer, staring blankly at it's screen>

Narrator: Hey there John, something wrong?

<John simply licks his lips and shakes his head, his buzz cut hair not
clean cut enough to hide his shame.>

Narrator: Why so down in the dumps? You have just stepped into the
wonderful world of fanfics, just posted your first story, hasn't this
always been your dream?

<John shrugs with as much lack of emotion as possible, being a 50's sort
of Wally kind of kid, that's a lot of lack>

Narrator: Yes sir... standing tall with the greats, such as
Law<sputter>on... and John <jitter>iles. Maybe even win a Chicken Ball
or perhaps even an Oscar. You took all the necessary precautions, you
lurked, waiting and reading...

<John and room fades to be replaced by same boy, running into his same
bedroom with an extremely familiar manga in hand. Looking around to make
sure God wasn't watching him, the youth carefully begins to turn the
page... before innocence is lost and experience gained however, a
picture of his mother catches his eye. Shaking his head, realizing he's
committing a mortal sin, he places the S&M fairies on his pillow and
instead walks over to his computer... and reads. Scene fades and
replaces, well, it pretty much replaces itself. Things didn't change
much in the 50's>

Narrator: Three long years you lurked, never daring to even clear your
throat should they accidentally hear you. You wisely fought the urge to
suggest that My Three Souns cross-over and never once thought obscene
thoughts about any of the sacred anime babes. Then, finally, you got an
idea...

<Another flashback, same room and John... one would have hoped for
explosive ransacking aliens or cattle disemboweling vikings... but no
luck. Just the same kid, getting an idea. From the wide eyed almost
orgasmic expression, relative of course to his mood swings up to now, it
must have hurt. Scene changes to the youth frantically typing, every now
and then looking to the picture of his smiling mother and smiling back
at her. Muzac in the background reminds one of the grand nature of
indrustrial arts, creative processes and how much we all like butter.>

Narrator: Boy, did you ever have an idea, angst, violence, a bit of WAFF
and everyone in complete character. You made sure not to upset any of
the various religious cults on the Fan Fiction Mailing List, made sure
to add a respectful disclaimer and checked your spelling over a dozen
times. Why even your teacher gave you some pointers.

<Scene fades out and this time into a different room, now assuring
everyone that the town he lives in has at least two buildings... unless
his schoolroom is in his basement... you never know. He hands his sheet
of paper to a rather severe looking woman in her mid eighties wearing a
floral pattern that writhes about her dress, obviously doing filthy
things when noone's watching.>

Teacher: Defenstration is not a noun, and kittens aren't really that
adapt to use for oral satisfaction. They're tongues are made of tiny
little hair like fibers that could easily cause discomfort.

<John nods, in a thoughtful, learning sort of posture... the kind that
breaks the learning curve and ruins his chances with the opposite sex.
Scene fades and his back to the old room, oblivious to his mother
finding his manga and skimming through it... she leaves, still reading
as he continues to type>

Narrator: Then came the day of all days. You posted it, a months worth
of sweat and descriptive prose, a ten kilo-byte masterpiece. So, what
could have possibly gone wrong? Did... did you forget something? John?

<John sits there, unmoving>

Narrator: You took all the precautions didn't you? Didn't you? You used
a sturdy fourth wall for protection... right?

<John hides his face in shame>

Narrator: Oh, John, how could you? The fourth wall is there for you and
your readers protection. Without it self inserts run rampant, characters
speak to narrators and ask advice... ahem... and even worse, you disrupt
both story flow and risk all sorts of commutable idea's. Maybe it'll be
all right, maybe there was a problem and the fic didn't get to the...
what's that John?

<John shakes his head and points to the monitor. The camera focuses on
the various bits of fic replies, flames and the odd death threat>

<Annoymous> How dare you?!? I had just gotten out of the shower when I
noted your narrative, fourth wall breaking eyes wandering all over my
nubile young flesh!

<Annoymous> There I was, just shaving my hamsters, something personal
between me and my lord God, when I see this fic. Suddenly, I felt shame
and the hamsters just weren't in the mood anymore. Do you have an idea
how many candles I wasted on tonight?!? Your going to burn, BURN I tell
ya!

<Annoymous> Would you like to make more money? Of course, we all would.
Well, I have a wonderful tip on how you can do these easily and at home
while simply typing up letters on the net... that is as long as you
don't break the fourth wall.

Narrator: Oh... John... and look, it seems your mother and teacher
aren't to happy about what you've done either...

<Both women stand in front of John, wearing bondage gear, carrying whips
and strangely gossemeric wings on their backside>

Narrator: And even J Edgar Hoover...

<A man comes in, smoking a cigar, wearing female bondage gear and
strangely gossemeric wings. They all precede to slap John around>

Narrator: Don't be like John, respect yourself and your readers. Always
practice safe ficcage or something that is seemingly unimportant to you
now will most likely fall right off just as soon as you figure out what
it's good for. Use a sturdy fourth wall, every time and break it only in
extreme emergencies... like to get a laugh.

<screen fades out to John being defenistrated, muzak creshindo's and
credits roll... nothing of note, just thanking the S&M bar of Sacramento
and mentioning that no hamster was hurt, just given a nice, close shave>

<Lights go up to reveal three men sitting in a trailer, watching the
final reel die down. A young man in black armor pauses to make a
mokonator shadow on the wall before turning to his companions>

Parrot King: Well guys, what'dya think?

Count P-chan: Inane as usual, and almost completely incoherent and
vithout rhyme or reason... and you use too many elispes. 

Krudd: Well, it might hewp if it was a bit cwearer on just what the
fouwth wall weally is.

Parrot King: Well, it's sort of the ephemeral extra dimension between
reader and story that allows for disbelief suspension and to let you get
lost in the narrative. Breaking it sort of pops your readers bubble,
forcing them rather firmly back into their computer chairs, staring at
an illuminated screen.

Krudd: You mean wike pulling a Moonwighting stunt? Tawking to your
weaders or the nawwator speaking to chawacters?

Parrot King: Exactly

Count P-chan: Vhich you do all the time.

Parrot King: Vell... ahem, well, it's just like any rule. You learn
of them so you know when and if you can break them. My comedic fics are
meant to be over the top and therefore a little stab toward the audience
isn't out of the question, it's almost expected. It almost there to
reassure the reader that I know things are... off. As for serious titles
like Suicide Blast, I want them to be swept along with the characters
and their emotions, I try to stay as far away from them as possible, so
as not to interrupt.

Krudd: Does this have anything to do with Wurker's want?

Parrot King: Kind of, a "insert Flashback" scene here is, in my opinion,
just another case of fourth wall abuse. Disrupting both the reader and
the flow of the story. Same goes with most author's notes that end up in
the text or descriptive passages that tell when they should be showing.

Count P-chan: <looking to camera> As alvays, these are just the thoughts
of one veird fic vriter and shouldn't be taken as gospel.

Parrot King: Exactly, do some research, see what other authors are doing
and not doing and whilst sending them the vital C&C they need to
survive, ask them the how's and whys. And try not to subside merely on
fanfiction. Read books, watch anime and for goddess sake, get out once
and awhile and run nude through your local college campus. You'd be
surprised how that gets the ole' fires burning.

Krudd: Hey, we didn't stawt the fire.

Parrot King: Goodnight everybody!

Count P-chan: End... <grumbling> Stupid elipses... ARRGGHH!


Revenge's End Mad Bad Bishonen Lad
Caretaker of the Dark and Lonely Place (COR Deaconate)
The Parrot King

(And the Moon was as blood, the Storms crashed and the Seas BOILED!)
(Typical, thought the Lobsters)  
      /  
 Oo
(~, )
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