Guest speaker [Original fiction]

Title: Guest Speaker
Fandom: N/A (original fiction)
Character(s): Vico Veneto, you.
Warnings: Half-crack

Vico beamed at you, and the countless other people who are behind you (even if there aren't any).

"Hi," he said dramatically. He was sitting on a couch, on the stage with a giant 'VICO' banner behind him. The spotlights were trained on the teen, who had brown hair with streaks of violet in it. He was wearing baggy pants and a hoodie which wrote 'Vy-oh, not Vee-oh', an inside joke which may or may not be explained later.

"Anyway," said Vico, adjusting the microphone near his mouth, "I am here to introduce myself. As you can see--" he gestured towards the banner behind him "--my name is Vico. I came from my Author's imagination in some very strange daydreams, I'd prefer you not ask.

"The first thing you need to know about me is that I like cake. Also, my original name was Vio, which was short for Violet, of all things! However, the author wanted it changed to Italian and so chose Vico, which is not pronounced Vye-ko and more like Vee-ko, which is horrible because Vio is pronounced Vi-oh and I know you're all very interested in my name."

"Boooooo!" said the audience (including you).

Vico pouted. "Well the thing is!" he shouted over the boo-ing, "Author couldn't think of anything to write today. She ran out of muse really quickly. So I'm here. I'm like the guest, I'm so awesome."

Meanwhile, backstage, the Author checked the traffic of her blog. It went from normal to zero within a matter of seconds. Vico was so getting fired.

Too much caps [Original Fiction]

Title: Too much caps (courtesy of Damian Farrow)
Fandom: Alternate (Original fiction)
Character(s): Damian Farrow, Author (me)
Warning: Crack!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything SMH related. This contest is real, feel free to enter.

"Chaiiiiinnnn!" screamed a 15-year-old girl hysterically as she ran around in circles. "Chaaaaiiinnn!"

Her Main Character, known as Damian Farrow, was sitting in the corner trying not to crack up or go insane. He was also trying to ignore her. He was failing. "What chain?" he finally asked.

His authoress ignored him. "CHAAAAAAIIIINNNNN--"

"What chain?" he asked again, in a considerably worsened mood.

The girl, who will now be known as Author, stopped screaming temporarily and turned around. "I need a chain!"

Needless to say, at this time Damian was beginning to get quite annoyed. Not only was his creator completely and utterly insane, but she had to go around screaming her head off in his ear. Just wonderful. "Why do you need a chain?"

"Because I need a chaaaiiiiinnnnnnnn!" she cried hysterically.

"SHUT UP!" Damian shouted over her. "Why do you need the damn chain?"

Author whimpered and said something about a top-secret competition. Damian rolled his eyes. "What sort of competition is this?"

"I'M NOT TELLING!" shouted Author dramatically. "If I say anything, more people will join and I'll have more competition!"

Damian headbashed. "Does it involve killing someone with a chain?"

"If you want it to involve that, yes," said Author helpfully.

"Does it have to involve a chain?" asked Damian. "I mean, can it be killing someone with a gun?"

"NO!" shouted Author. "IT MUST BE A CHAIN! CHAIN, I AM  YOUR FATHER!"

Damian cracked up, but quickly recomposed himself. "It must be a writing contest," he thought.

"HOW'D YOU KNOW?"

"I guessed."

"Oh." There was a ridiculously quiet moment. Then: "I NEED A CHAIN!"

"THERE'S TOO MUCH CAPS!" yelled Damian, hypocritically. "You have to write about a chain?"

"Yes!"

"Is this that Sydney Morning Herald thing?"

Author blinked. "Yes, how'd you--I MEAN NO! OF COURSE NOT! YOU'RE NOT TAKING MY PRIZE AWAY FROM ME!"

"Migraine!" snapped Damian. "Shut up!"

"Sorry," said Author, in a considerably quieter tone. "Can you think of something for chain?"

"Why don't you kill someone with it?" Damian suggested.

"THAT'S STUPID--Sorry, I mean: that's stupid," she said in a hushed whisper.

Damian rolled his eyes. His head was already hurting. This wasn't helping matters. "How about," he said reasonably, "we ignore this post and come back to it when your muse is here?"

"Good idea," said Author, "but what do we call this story?"

Damian Farrow grinned a rare, evil grin. "We'll call it...THERE'S TOO MUCH CAPS!"

"Let's cut the 'there's'," Author grumbled.