• We wouldn’t write this—wouldn’t even think of it—but The Commissioner says “write” and we write. If an Author were not to write, well, we’d rather not discuss how that goes. Let’s just say this Author would find much difficulty in continuing its work, unless it was quite adept with its feet. So we write. We write stories of horror and fantasy, love and loss, the mundane details of getting a bite to eat and saving someone from the very fate of being eaten.
    For an epic tale we wrote of an evil genius’ rise to global power as his empire crawled in trenches throughout the continent. He nearly led his followers to great victory too, but in the end his demons overwhelmed his mind and—after a few radical decisions—he resorted to suicide deep within his bunker. We were told this was a best seller in the “American” market, though the dramatic composition did not bode so well in the “European” theatre.
    While our epic tale was such a great success, many of us developed a sort of conscience for treating our characters with such iniquity; we decided to convey a bit more empathy for those we placed in our works, writing about equality for women and free love—not to mention that anthology written in a drug-induced euphoria. The Commissioner approved of this project’s development, relaying to us that people were pleased to experience our “far out” styles of writing. We blushed a bit as a phrase of our own creation was used as an acclamation for our works.
    We then turned our attention to this new realm of “Science Fiction,” utilizing the works of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells for a comical approach. (We later threw out most of these ideas, as the two aforementioned authors don’t have an ounce of talent over us.) We wrote about these devices called “computers” and how they changed the world’s cultures and communication in ways never before possible, creating more hostility amongst Earth’s peoples than ever. Apparently this too was a best seller, even sparking the creative mind of one “George Lucas,” and while we enjoyed his plots and characters, we felt somewhat offended that he had borrowed so much from our prior dictator story, as well as a few other things from over the years.
    Finally, we wrote mundane details of life for some, while others were thrown into the midst of a war fueled by religion and greed. While the latter plot was certainly nothing entirely original, we had decided to pay homage to The Authors before us whom wrote a compelling compilation known as “The Crusades.”
    So what do we write now? We said, “We wouldn’t write this, wouldn’t even think of it,” and that’s the very case. We never would’ve thought of this, never expected it to emerge. Well, we still found it one day; perhaps we were meant to find it. Who really knows? But we found it all the same: a simple television set paired with a boxed set of movies (both things of our creation many years ago.) The box was labeled “The History Channel” and we wondered why such a thing existed. Didn’t people already know what had happened to them? Our curiosity got the best of us, leading to studious watching of every movie in full. To our surprise, someone had either choreographed our entire collage of works over our careers, or the unthinkable had occurred. The dictator, or “Hitler” as the movies referred to him, was a real figurehead of a very real movement. Millions of people lived out our greatest, most diabolical works. It was not possible for that to have been mere acting, nor could so many humans could have been so emaciated merely for our works; it had to be real.
    We wouldn’t write this—wouldn’t even think of it—but the unthinkable had occurred, so we write: “2012: The Authors destroy their pens.”