Sweet Self-Righteous Sleep

Alone in a dimly lit office, a short man of fading youth is asleep in front of his desk, brought down once again by another abominable manuscript.

What Hell. 

Just when he thought he'd seen the worst, another even more pungent steaming pile finds its way on to his desk. The title already evokes a sense of dread;

"The Story of the Last Great Chumchara"

What the hell is a Chumchara anyway? No. It's better not to know.

Does this author really expect to get published? The main character is a rebel hermaphrodite for god sakes! Surely I am being punished. I must have done something to somebody, and they are taking out their revenge in the most cruel and ruthless of ways.

He picks of the manuscript once again, but attempting to suppress his abhorrence for this god-awful story is much like trying to contain a nuclear explosion inside a beach ball.

He reads on:

"And then out of the blue, A giant cypholoid Tiger jumps and eats them and then the most amazing thing happens, a blue streak of light hits the tiger out of the way, but that's no steak of light, thats Manno-Ray! HES ALIVE!!!!"

Where's the justice? If I die today, then they will have won. If only I could stop this never-ending flow of complete crap from getting to my desk, then maybe, my life will have stood for something. An editor can live their entire lives without ever seeing anything worth publishing. Oh god, I've got to write a letter to the author explaining why we won't publish his work.

The worse the author is, the more strongly they believe they are the next JK Rowling or George Lucas. This has to is the mother of all crappy manuscripts.

 

I've seen enough, I'll just get on with the letter.

 

Dear Mogpox the Third,

I read your story - or as much as I could. I will not hesistate when I say this story has everything it needs to sucessfully burn in hell. Actually, it's much worse than that, because I think hell is too good a place for this story.

I want to know, are you serious? Is this a serious book? or did you just write it as a joke? Maybe you wanted to punish me. I which case, I think it's my duty to attempt to quantify the severity of the damage you inflicted on my brain, no, my very soul. As a result of this manuscript, I can no longer enjoy life, I used to be a good person, I used to donate money to the church, but now all I can think of is gunning-down every last man, woman and child on the face of this earth just so that I can save them from the torture of ever coming across this abomination.

-Sincerely,

The Editor.

He hesitates as he licks the envelope and sends the message on it's way, then returning to his office to reflect upon his actions.

Maybe I was too hard on the poor guy.

Once again he turns to the manuscript:

"...in the firey blaze of the Dumchachas, the golden eagle comes out and says "Don't eat those sandy berries" and then Manno-Ray completes his delicious pie and throughs it in his face because the eagle was upset and he did consider that."

"No."

He says as he turns off the light and goes back to sleep, "I did the right thing."

 

by Wcoltd (Viewed 177 times)

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