“Uh oh?” Adam asked, glancing up at Carl who was currently arguing with Mrs. Picklebottom about how x isn’t a number. “Why uh oh?”
“Because if you aren’t writing this and I’m not writing this, who the heck is writing this?”
“I don’t know,” Adam answered stupidly, as if he even needed to say such a stupid thing. “Hey! Now’s no time to get mean in the narration. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” The Badger answered, which he should have realized was exactly what he made fun of Adam for doing just seconds before but apparently was too stupid to think that far out. “Jeez, okay, I get it, I reacted poorly. Look, if you’re not actively thinking of this story and I’m not actively thinking of this story, that means that this thing has quite literally gone off the rails.”
“As if me sitting within my own story talking to my muse in the guise of a character I wrote for a completely different short story before he decided to derail it with his own stories about giant monsters isn’t already a reason to question my mental health?”
“Your broken brain aside, we could have a real problem here. And it could possibly be my fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean,” the Badger said with great agitation, “which I would have explained if you had just allowed me to finish my sentence, is that us Muses aren’t supposed to take such direct control of things like I have and it’s possible, there is just the tiniest most minuscule of chances, that I could have broken down the walls of your imagination and caused a situation which neither of us can control.”
“But,” Adam said, his biceps bulging as he considered his incredible strength, “I’m still able to control the narration.”
“Which is good, but I fear that we might see more things coming from the back of your mind that we hadn’t expected.” The Badger looked up at Carl who was throwing a bottle of glowing blue boogers into his over-sized maw.
“But can’t we just end the story?”
“We can certainly try, but the problem here is that we haven’t got any sort of resolution. Heck, we just found the true issue, meaning we’re just barely at the end of Act One, if we aren’t dealing with one of those situations where the real issue is actually deeper in and we’re just being faked out.”
“What are you talking about? This is a short story, we don’t have to follow the constraints of traditional storytelling. There is no denouement. We just decide we’re done and we’re done.”
Adam looked toward the west as he rode off into the sunset, feeling confident that all his troubles were behind him now.
Adam’s horse snorted angrily and screamed in frustration. “You can’t force an ending like that!”
Adam jumped back in fright, landing on the ground behind the horse which quickly transformed into the shape of The Badger.
“Okay, fine, what do you suggest we do?”
“I think at this point, our best chance it to attempt a scene break and transition to a different character’s POV to buy us some time. Right now we have at least two monsters running around here and I’m not liking how you’re insipid Carl monster is growing again.”
“Alright, so, how do we do that?”
“We meanwhile, obviously.”