The Buttery Snake Show: The Cycle Continues · 1:57am Jun 26th, 2017
The house lights went up, and the curtain pulled away. The spotlight was immediately focused on Buttery Snake.
“ACK!” he screamed. “HOT!”
He leapt out of his chair and hid under the desk that had been found for him in a dumpster outside of a local Del Taco. “This is what happens when we use the BRIGHT halogens! Stop, stop, put it the other way!”
Whoever was controlling the light (I haven’t considered who that person might be, so I don’t have a name for them) turned it away, and Buttery Snake came out from beneath his desk like a groundhog during a flood. He looked around, and then took the burritos that had come with the desk.
“Finally,” he said. “At least their cooked. And I look a darker shade of green.”
“Does anybody even know that you’re green here?” asked Unwhole Hole.
“GAH!” cried Buttery Snake, falling out of his chair and spreading green sauce everywhere. “Where did you come from?!”
“The dwarves dug too deep.”
“Dwarves? No, with you, it was probably gnomes. Like the ones I had to fight to get this desk. You know, you could fund me a little better. When was the last time you even made a blog post?”
“I tried to make one a few months ago, but it was hard.”
“Oh, sure. You can squeeze out a story in a month but it takes you years to make a blog post.”
“I might pick up with that soon. I always wanted to do posts on aspects of writing, like Mary Sues and universe design and stuff. I just bought some chocolate milk, so I might be able to soon.”
“Ah. So are you finkin’ bout miwkies?”
Unwhole Hole sighed. “You know, if you keep referencing that place, people are going to figure out where it is.”
“Oh, and Ivan Ivanovich as a lead character in ‘Humphrey Dinklehuegen’ wasn’t a big enough clue?”
“Nobody read that story. Well, a few people did. It wasn’t well received. But it was a blast to write. Comedies usually are.”
“Like the one you just wrote? The one about horseradish?”
“That one was pretty fun. But it feels a little…weak.”
“Because you weren’t able to make dirty jokes?”
“No. That whole story was a dirty joke. The premise was just a little limited. I like the cover art though. Thanks to Micron for that. Nobody look for him, he’s really hard to find.”
“Doesn’t he live down a well?”
“No, that’s me.”
Buttery Snake raised an eyebrow. “You live on a second story apartment.”
“How do you know? Have you been SPYING?”
“Yes. I live in that little cupboard above your stairs. I would have taken the one below, but there was a wizard in it.”
“I don’t own any stairs.”
Buttery paused. “Then whose house am I living in?”
Unwhole Hole sighed. “Is there a reason why I’m here?”
“Because you’re too tired to play ‘The Witcher’ right now.”
“I just don’t know how those swords stay on his back…it’s super annoying…”
“But I think the reason you’re here is to give an update.”
“Update? Oh, yeah. I got sidetracked. Yes, I just published my 14th story, ‘Horseradish’, about the Cutie Mark Crusaders encountering the pony equivalent of a mandrake. It’s a comedy in my normal style, so a little weird. Teen rated, though.”
“Hurray!”
“Yeah. I’ve noticed that the Mature level really limits readership, and I’ve been trying to write more ‘everybody’ and ‘teen’ stories. It’s difficult, though.”
“Which is why ‘One White Unicorn’ is rated mature?”
“Yes. For good reason. It is horror, after all. It’s difficult to write some types of horror without a higher rating.”
“And I suppose the next story you’re writing is horror too?”
“No. Horror is really, really hard to do properly. I’m not good at it at all, and I only do them rarely. I just don’t understand human fear very well.” He paused. “That said, I’ve found that I move in a cycle.”
“Well, you do really need some exercise. Especially with all that chocolate milk.”
“Yes, I realize that. But that’s not the cycle.”
“Then what is?”
“Well, I’ve found that I revolve between three kinds of stories. I start with sci-fi action adventure, then get really tired of epic stories and write fast comedies. In between I write horror. So I move between those three in a sequence.”
“So that would mean you’re on…” Buttery Snake got out a calculator and did the math. His eyes widened- -Unwhole Hole’s favorite trope- -and he looked up at his seated guest. “No…you can’t. You wouldn’t!”
Unwhole Hole smiled. “Yes I would. It’s action sci-fi time!”
“Nuuuuuu! You can’t do that! You already have Mass Core- -THEE Mass Cores- -and both my stories- -do you have any idea what you’re getting into?”
“Yes,” said Unwhole Hole. “A massive, time-consuming story that probably won’t be done until October or even December. Then again, I have to take a nine hour flight to Warsaw and back in two months, so maybe I’ll write it all then. Who knows?”
“I know. The answer is no. That story will take you ages. What madness, Unwhole Hole, has overcome thy?”
“A suggestion, actually.”
“But you don’t take suggestions.”
“Not usually, no. Unless I really feel strongly about them. And this one I did.”
“Was it from The Kaiser?”
“No, he hardly ever requests anything. Actually, he doesn’t like my stories much even though he’s secretly in several.”
“So am I,” pointed out Buttery Snake.
“Well, this suggestion came from a fellow named Dragon Whisper 243. He’s contacted me several times about writing a story, and he gave me a prompt I liked. But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t think he knows what he’s in for.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I looked at his stories and found he favors tales of heroic figures. You know, those righteous types who defend the innocent against intense and profound threats.”
“So the kind that get disemboweled and tormented in your stories until they turn into psychotic messes and glorify in death and destruction of the kindhearted?”
“Pretty much. And based on my ideas so far, this story is going to be dark. That’s the challenge. I want to keep everyone’s personality close to the show, but have them also be all extremely evil.”
“For example?”
“Like a Twilight that steals alchemical essence from her victims for her experiments into undeath, or a cannibalistic griffon-hunting Rainbow Dash. It’s going to be a wild ride. And it’s going to be fun.”
“No. No it’s not. Don’t do that.”
“Too late. I intend to start next week or so. I’ve got my Ovaltine and my Powerwolf, and I’m ready to write a story that every reader will hate. All twenty or so of them.”
“Well, let me know how that goes. Or don’t.”
“You’ll probably be there.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Buttery Snake let out one last sigh, and turned to the audience, which now consisted mostly of Ivan Ivonvich, an extremely drunk Robette d’Bordeaux, and D27, who was otherwise unemployed at the moment. As well as a number of lovely followers, of course. “So,” he said. “Let’s see how this goes, eh?”
Cant wait.