Doorways to Everywhere (Tourist Trap Book 2)

Chapter 43

What the hell? Max thought to himself as he watched the guy type the words "What the hell? Max thought to himself."

Max waved both of his arms over his head and stuck his tongue out. Sure enough, the guy typed a line about Max waving his arms and sticking his tongue out. Then he typed about typing that.

"I don't know what the hell is going on here, but this is really freaky," Max said as he grabbed the back of the chair and swiveled it around.

"Oh hello," I said as I looked at Max. "I was expecting you to show up right about now."

"What is the meaning of this?" Max asked.

"I'm writing a book," I explained. "I just got to the part where you came into the room and saw me writing the book."

"Aha!" Max shouted. "I had a vision about this once when I was wearing the God helmet. I am trapped in a book. And it is being written by some sick fuck. And you, mister, are that sick fuck. I've just got to ask what the hell is wrong with you anyway?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "You're the one that's doing stuff. I'm just typing."

"You're not controlling me?" Max asked. "Like a puppet tied to your sick, twisted little strings?"

"No, I'm not controlling you," I said. "You do what you do and I type it. You think you're trapped? I'm the idiot that's sitting here spending hours on end typing about you."

"Well, I am pretty amazing," Max said. "And my numerous exciting adventures are definitely worth chronicling. I suppose I give you permission to carry on."

"That's good to know," I said as I turned around and typed out all of the stuff that just happened.

"Hey," Max said. "Since you're writing everything that's happening, why don't we flip to the end and see what happens."

"I can't do that," I said.

"Well why the fuck not?" Max asked.

"Because I haven't written it yet. I'm only up to the part that's happening right now."

"Then what the hell good are you?" Max asked. He got a contemplative look on his face. "Hey, what's that over there?"

THE BRILLIANT AND HANDSOME TOAD MAX REACHED FORWARD WHILE THE WEIRD GUY WAS DISTRACTED AND BEGAN TYPING. A TWO GALLON JUG OF THE FINEST ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE EVER BREWED APPEARED IN HIS HAND AND HE BEGAN DRINKING IT. A SMOKING HOT BLONDE WITH ENORMOUS BAZOOMBAS MATERIALIZED IN HIS OTHER ARM. A BIG FAT STOGIE APPEARED IN HIS MOUTH AND HE TOOK A DEEP SATISFYING PUFF OFF OF IT. HIS POCKETS WERE STUFFED WITH FLOSS AND HE WAS NOW THE RICHEST MAN IN THE WORLD. ALSO BEST LOOKING. DID I MENTION THAT PART? THE HOT BLONDE CHICK ASKED HIM IF HE WANTED TO GO SKINNY DIPPING WITH HER THREE ROOMMATES WHO WERE EVEN HOTTER THAN HER. THEIR LOFT HAPPENED TO BE LOCATED ABOVE A LIQUOR STORE AND THEY COULD BRING ALONG AS MUCH BOOZE AS WAS NEEDED. EVERYONE COLLECTIVELY AGREED THAT THEY SHOULD START REFERRING TO HIM AS MAX THE GREAT FOR TRULY HE WAS A GOD AMONG MEN.

I pushed Max away from the keyboard as I took control of it again. I turned off the caps lock button, which he had turned on somehow and made the women and the cigar and the giant bottle of alcohol and all the floss in his pocket disappear.

"You're no fun," Max said. "You couldn't at least let me keep the bottle of booze? I'm dying of thirst here."

"Fine," I said as I typed a line about a glass of whiskey appearing in his hand and one instantly appeared in his hand. "I guess I can do little parlor tricks like that, but I'm really not controlling anything here. I took that stuff away from you because you're not supposed to have it."

"What the hell do you mean I'm not supposed to have it?" Max asked.

"You wouldn't be Max if you had all that stuff. You'd be some other guy."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was clearly writing about myself. After all I am brilliant and handsome and everyone should call me Max the Great."

"But they don't," I said. "Look, I could start writing about someone named Max the Great who has lots of money and women throwing themselves at him, but it wouldn't be you. It would be some completely different person in a completely different story and the story we're in right now would kind of just be left hanging there unfinished. That would be pretty unsatisfying for everyone, I think. Also kind of confusing."

"Since you put it that way, I guess I see your point," Max said. "I wouldn't want to disappear mid-story while some other jackass gets all the money and women. I guess I'll just have to go earn that stuff myself by the end of this story. Can you at least tell me where that guy went with my flask?"

"He's not here," I said. "I think Zeke encountered him a few chapters ago."

"Zeke? Is that guy floating around this story somewhere? Tell him he owes me a drink. He doesn't, but tell him he does anyway. Maybe he'll fall for it. Of course, knowing that guy he's probably going to get himself killed by the creep in the black robe. And he'll probably somehow manage to get my flask destroyed in the process, that jerk. Tell him he owes me two drinks. And a flask."

"I can't actually talk to him unless he comes here in person like you did," I said.

"Whatever. Just plant the idea in his head then. Anyway I'd probably better get back so you can actually, like, advance the story and so we don't spend the rest of the book standing in here talking to each other. Because no one wants to read about that." He gulped down the whiskey, slammed the empty glass down on my desk, and walked out the door.