"Do-be-lee-doo," Caboose sung, sitting on the ground of the library, scribbling on a piece of paper with a green crayon as he had been for the past half hour.
"Oh, hey, Caboose. I was wondering who was making that noise" Church muttered, looking down at him as he came down the stairs. "What are you doing?"
"I am writing a story to end all stories! It will have t-shirt rexes and lots of milk for their cookies!" Caboose said happily as his scrawling hastened.
"Sounds... good?" Church asked himself.
"Hello, my name is private Dexter Grif from the unjustifiably popular series for how shit it is; My Little Caboose," Grif boomed pleasantly as he kicked open the door to the library and walked inside.
"And I am private Dick Simmons from the same fiction," Simmons said formally as he strolled in with his partner.
"Oh, this stuff again," Church muttered, turning around. "I'll be upstairs. If you need me, don't hesitate to ask someone else."
"What you just saw Caboose partake in was a wonderful process called 'writing'."
"But what is writing, Simmons?" Grif inquired curiously.
"I am making words with a pencil!" Caboose piped.
"Well said, Caboose. You see, Grif. Writing is something people do when they feel creative and have little to no talent when it comes to music or drawing," Simmons explained. "In fact, many writers don't even have a talent for writing."
"Wow, that must suck to be them," Grif whistled.
"I'm sure it does, Grif," Simmons agreed seriously. "But enough about others. To start us off, how about we talk about how to get noticed for your writing?"
"I'm sure that is what most people are here for," Grif said with a nod as he turned towards the camera. "You see, there are several different things you can do to get noticed by others. The most important ones are spelling and a picture for your title art."
"Having a description that is unoriginal and riddled with spelling errors makes it very difficult to get noticed. Having spelling errors in your description if a major turn off for potential readers. You want to lure them in with a hook," Simmons said with a smile. "Cover art is another thing that goes a long way towards being noticed. Asking a friend or commissioning an artist to make you some title art shows readers that you're serious about your story."
"But make sure that the description and cover art fit well together. It would be awfully strange to have your description talking about a romantic comedy while the cover art is of a guy holding a gun to his head."
"Another way you can get noticed is by befriending a popular author and having them plug your work," Simmons went on. "By having them advertise your story, you can get a lot of views that way."
"Now that you know how to get noticed, it's time to start on your story. Let's pick a genre," Grif said."You may be saying to yourself; 'Wow, there are so many to choose from. How am I going to pick?'"
"An easy way to do this is to think about what you like," Simmons said firmly. "You can even choose multiple genres to write about in a story. Just make sure they don't conflict, because then you just look like a fool."
"A safe bet is always crossover stories with comedy in them," Grif said slyly. "I mean, think about it. Crossovers are the lazy man's way out. Not only are you mixing two worlds, you already have a bunch of people willing to read your work simply based off the fact that it's something they like to read or watch. And you don't even have to create your own characters!"
"But you still do want to find something original that people would be interested in reading."
"Of course. Nobody wants to read something they've seen a million times before."
"What comes next is a big one. Planning ahead," Simmons continued. "You don't want to write for a few days just to find yourselves written into a wall. Plan out your story so you know where you're going. You don't want to sit down with no idea how your chapter is going to end. Only a complete idiot does that."
"Please note that the author of this story doesn't really do this," Grif said quietly. "In fact, he sits down having no idea where the hell he left off."
"A third thing to have is the characters. While it is already frowned upon by many to put yourself into a story, don't put a damn super hero into a story and claim it's you."
"Yeah. Nobody wants to hear a story about how you're a ladies man who is master of kung fu, can get into a flawless relationship with several girls at the same time and can do anything with no problem," Grif chuckled. "Only Hugh Hefner and Chuck Norris' love child can do that."
"Please note that the author of this story owns the characters Hugh Norris, Chuck Hefner, and every other combination of the two," Grif added.
"A fourth thing that could be of use is-"
"You know, I write in my diary a lot, so maybe I could help with this," a flamboyant voice said from outside the library.
"Donut, we keep telling you, you're not coming in until later!" Grif yelled hoarsly.
"But I want to come in now!" he pouted. "I want to come in as hard and fast is I can, but gracefully enough that people reading aren't hurt by it. I want to be there by your sides during the climax."
"Donut, please, we're in the middle of-" Simmons began, but was interrupted when a tall, pink soldier crawled through the door. "God damn it..."
"Wow, I forgot how small you guys are as cute little ponies," Donut cooed as he approached Grif and Simmons. "You're, like, only four feet tall. I could just eat you up."
"We're not little ponies, we are medium-sized stallions!" Simmons snapped as Donut began hugging Grif.
"Wash?" Grif wheezed loudly, looking out the door.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Wash muttered, crawling in through the door. "Come on, Donut. You're being stupid. Which for you is pretty normal."
"But I want to talk about writing!" he whined, tightening his grip on Grif.
"Listen, we have to go back out and get ready for when we actually come into the story, alright?" Wash sighed as he pulled Donut away from Grif, letting the orange stallion have some breathing room.
"Yeah, sorry for the delays, guys," Doc said, poking his head in through the door.
"For crying out loud, why not get everybody in here?" Grif moaned, rubbing his face.
"I don't think there's room for everybody. But, hey! I guess we could try," Doc said happily as he turned to face the door. "Lopez, Sister, get in here for a sec."
"No, stay out there!" Grif yelled in frustration, slamming the door shut when he saw Lopez beginning to enter.
"Jeez, calm down, buddy," Doc chuckled, shaking his head as he began to smile under his helmet. "Anyways, DarkWing is making some pretty big plans for when we come in, and boy, is it a doozy. It won't be for another few dozen chapters, though, so you're going to have to hold onto your hats."
"We get hats?" Caboose gasped hopefully.
"Christ, this session is spiraling out of control," Grif grunted as he turned to Simmons with a raised brow. "Want to give up?"
"We're only a fifth done what we were going to go over!"
"That's like thirteen percent. Multiply that by five and that's ninety, and that's an F plus. That's a passing grade, Simmons, and I am alright with that."
"Nothing of what you just said was true, but I can tell something will interrupt us if we try to say anything more," Simmons grumbled, beginning to walk towards the door. "Might as well do something that isn't a complete waste of time."
"Does that mean I can talk about writing advice?" Donut asked happily.
"Knock yourself out," Grif said as he walked out the door with Simmons, slamming it shut behind them.