And that’s when a purple skinned elf randomly apparated into the scene, singing,
“This is the song that never ends,
Yes it goes on and on my friends.
Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,
And they’ll continue singing it forever just because
“This is the song that never ends,
Yes it goes on and on my friends.
Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,
And they’ll continue singing it forever just because
This is the song that never ends –”
“Who the heck are you?” Ron asked, crossing his eyes in confusion.
“Dobby, sir! Dobby the house elf!”
“Okay… and why are you singing the song that never ends?”
“Because the author of this story couldn’t figure out how to break the awkward silence, and therefore threw Dobby in as a filler until her mind gets back on track!”
“Well, I guess that answers the question of whether or not you guys are also fictitious characters,” Kim said blandly.
“So the Fearsome Ferret IS a TV show within a TV show within a TV show!” Ron exclaimed.
“Actually, sir,” Dobby held up a finger, “It’s a TV show within a TV show within a Nanowrimo novel.”
“A what novel?”
“National Novel Writing Month, also known as NaNoWriMo. It’s where people try to write fifty thousand words worth of a novel within the thirty days of November.”
“Does this novel have to make any sense?” Mr. Kovach asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is there any criteria for it at all?”
“Nope! Just to get as many words as possible! That’s why the author was having Dobby sing the song that never ends –”
“Because if you sing it long enough, you’ll eventually get fifty thousand words worth of it,” Bear deduced with a smirk.
“Not fifty thousand words worth of it,” Rainbow corrected him. “Just about twelve hundred or so, to get past the finish line.”
“And you know this because…?”
She shrugged. “Because the author wanted someone to say it, but she didn’t want to have Dobby monologue it all.”
Said house elf then returned to singing,
“I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves,
Everybody’s nerves, everybody’s nerves!
I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves,
And this is how it goes!”
“Shut up!” snapped Raven. “You’re even annoying the author, and she’s the one writing it!”
“Then what should Dobby do to make more words?” The elf lowered his ears in shame.
“Try describing this carpet,” Branded told the little creature, making an ornate decorative rug appear in front of himself. It was mostly several different shades of blue and violet, with gold swirls and a pair of mirroring flame designs. It randomly whacked the lion boy upside the head with one of its corner tassels, and proceeded to fly away haughtily.
“Why are you purple?” Ron suddenly thought to ask Dobby. His naked mole rat nodded and let out a series of squeaks that could be translated as, “Yeah, why?”
“Dobby doesn’t have a clue, sir,” the little elf answered dutifully. “The author wanted an adjective, and used the first one that came to her mind, so she made Dobby’s skin purple. Dobby looks very pretty in purple,” he added, pointing to his mismatched socks. One sock was red and yellow striped, and the other was checkered with purple and green. He was also wearing a black top hat over a hunter’s orange beanie, and a blue sweater with a reindeer pattern on it.
“Wow. Just… wow,” Kim said, shaking her head.
“That’s… colorful,” Mr. Kovach said needlessly, scratching his head awkwardly.
“This is the weirdest scene you’ve written yet,” a cackly old man’s voice said from nowhere. It was the author’s Inner Editor. “Why are you still writing? You should totally give up right now. Or just backspace this whole part and write in something that at least makes sense!”
“NO!” another voice jumped in. This one sounded like a very young child, one young enough to remember the pride in a scribble that must be explained multiple times before anyone knows what it is. “Who care’s if it’s not perfect! This randomness if FUN! And you can go back and fix it later! Right now, you’re almost done! Only five hundred ish words to go!”
“Yeah!” Leroy the mountain duck put in. “Licker Goat Steve and I think this is great! Keep going! And at least it makes more sense than MY story!” Then he and the octopus started to sing,
“The wheels on the bus go round and round,
Round and round, round and round!
The wheels on the bus go round and round,
All through the town!”
Then Mr. Kovach joined in the chaos, singing,
“You better watch out, you better not cry,
You better not pout, I’m telling you why!
Santa Claus is coming to town!”
“Wrong!” Linus jumped in, holding his iconic blue baby blanket. “It’s not even December yet! Why has Christmas become so commercialized? The radio stations start playing Christmas carols in early November, and the stores start selling colorful lights and trees and decorations and wall paper and ornaments before Halloween is even over! People should be paying more respect to the Great Pumpkin!”
“Will this ever go back to making sense?” Raven asked, rubbing his temples.
“Probably not,” Bear replied. “She’s close enough now that it doesn’t have to anymore. It’s all downhill from now on, for us!”
“At least she hasn’t thrown in the werewolves yet,” Mr. Kovach pointed out. “We can be thankful for that!”
“Oh dear,” the white rabbit fretted, gripping his watch as he shook. “Now you’ve given her an idea, and I don’t have time to spend running away! I’m very very late!”
“You’re always late,” Danny Phantom reminded him. “Your watch is two weeks slow, remember? Taking five minutes to run from a random monster in the strangest crossover fanfiction story I’ve ever seen won’t make you any worse off than if you were still in your own story.”
“Will you ever get back to explaining how a pile of demonic looking skeletons got here?” Ron asked, trying to pull his short blonde hair out in frustration.
“Ooh, carrots! Skeletons?!” Mr. Kovach repeated anxiously, then bolted. He ran a good fifty feet down the hall before a big huge massive sign randomly came down and landed on his head, breaking his neck and killing him.
“What’s it say?” Ariel asked, completely ignoring the dead human. Yzma cackled maniacally, and ordered Kronk to pick the sign up and read it. The disproportionally shaped strong man shrugged and moved to lift the sign up so they could see.
“That’s grammatically incorrect!” The Inner Editor announced.
“Shut up!” The Human Torch shouted, lighting the Editor’s pants on fire. The Editor screamed and ran away, hopping wildly as he went. “I don’t think he’ll be coming back before December,” the flaming super hero said with a wink. Then he saluted sarcastically, and motioned for Kronk to read the big sign.
“It says in big red squiggly neon letters, THE END!” he exclaimed joyfully. “The author has finally reached fifty thousand words!”
There was a collective yell of, “HOORAY!” as the author thanked all of the characters and sent them back to their own worlds. And the lucky forty-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-ninth and fifty thousandth words very intentionally were,
THE END!
Procrastinating In Public 