Jammy Hock posed and strutted and shouted about his status as the TRANSMOGRIFICATION EXPATRIATE for another good hour and a half. A protagonist must be dramatic, of course, and a TRANSMOGRIFICATION EXPATRIATE doubly so. In any other school, the students or teachers might have complained about the raving lunatic running and shouting through the halls of the building, but in this school, such slander would mean immediate expulsion, were anyone else present. Such were the perks of being the only student and all of the administrative staff in your school, Jammy Hock supposed.
The author, he knew, was always watching. Ever present. Jammy Hock likened the whole thing to an observer effect, rather similar to the double slit experiment. Mind you, despite having given himself the better part of a degree in Quantum Physics, Jammy did not actually understand the double slit experiment, and completely misunderstood what "observe" meant in that context. Indeed, Jammy was possessed of the false belief that that particularly bit of research had somehow proven consciousness defined reality, when in fact "observe" would be better replaced with "measure", and indeed the whole thing could be done with computers whilst one goes on a vacation in the bahamas, for the computerized measurements constitute enough of an "observer" for the experiment to function, on account of the whole thing having absolutely nothing to do with consciousness. Indeed, if Jammy Hock bothered to so much as google such things, he would not be possessed of such delusions, but years of falling for odd pseudo-mysticism on the internet had rendered his critical thinking and research skills inert.
This lack of reasoning ability was ultimately for the best, of course, as it would have taken up valuable energy that could be better used to hone Jammy Hock's already prodigious abilities of TRANSMOGRIFICATION EXPATRIATION, a noble and significant post whose precise responsibilities and capacities shall not be detailed, and instead left as an excercise to the reader.
Jammy Hock always hated it when the author did that, leaving things "as an excercise to the reader". He suspected it was in part due to laziness and an unwilling to put actual effort into detailing his character, but the gaps in canonical lore were in fact quite troublesome, as, without the author to detail his abilities, Jammy Hock was unable to utilize or contemplate his abilities. He knew he had power, of course, such a thing had been established in canon, but the specifics or even broad details had not. This was his primary reason for wanting to transcend canonical limitations, thereby granting him the ability to define his own powers. He would of course give himself all of them, and establish himself as a HIGH TRANSMOGRIFICATION EXPATRIATE among men.
By this point, Jammy Hock's ranting and raging and contemplating and running had led him into the cafeteria, where his growling stomach reminded him he was in fact quite peckish. He sprinted over to the counter, still shouting at the top of his lungs about his own greatness and the powers of the TRANSMOGRIFICATION EXPATRIATE (it is a strange feeling to shout information you don't possess). He made his selections, which comprised all of the food, and paid the six hundred and forty dollars payment required. Jammy Hock could of course afford such steep fees, due to a rather cunning scheme he had established. Three years ago, Jammy Hock had taken out a small loan of six million dollars from the bank, and every month since, he took out a slightly larger loan to cover his debts and expenses. In this way, he reckoned, he would never actually have to pay any money for anything, provided he could keep finding new banks to take loans from. More recently, he had been considering running a front company to conceal his economic activities from the increasingly suspicious banks, perhaps some sort of research society relating to metallurgy. He isn't certain of yet.
Regardless, Jammy Hock thinks, as he bites into one of his cookies, it would be prudent to devise some sort of plan regarding how to distract the goddess. As previously noted, his apotheosis requires that he be unobserved. Suddenly, it hits him. The goddess is a lazy one, and a poor author at that. She cannot be trusted to adequately detail a given scene or character.
All Jammy Hock needs to do is