Epilogue of Volume 1: Transport quest of Billy the Kid Part 3

You might not believe me saying this, but Billy and I were still searching for his Mom. Even after spending the entire last chapter doing the same exact thing. Considering the casting for the Mom role was still currently pending...it would be quite a while till we found her anyways.

Qualified personnel was hard to come by and paying with 5 stones with the word power on it did not seem to motivate anyone either.

I found it hard to believe, who in the right mind would not want to gain publicity for starring in this masterpiece of literature?

And yes, this entire bit was repeated from the last one. There was nothing more to add, since the last one; so why not recycle the entire plot and sell it as something new and exciting? Come on, we did not even find a Mom.

In the end, a wig was bought for 5 powerstones─now I was the Mom and The Dad of Billy.

If you expect any sort of big reveal, just turn back; it ain't get any better. We would see a whole lotta nothing in the upcoming sentences. Only to in the end send my "dear child" Billy the Kid into a medical coma.

Pardon, we would give this story a nice message with .45 calibre and riddle it with bullets. It needed as many holes in it, as there were plotholes in your average fanfiction.

I don't advocate murdering your own stories. This one was me just making sure, it would not suddenly go fully meta and write itself. On the one hand, that did imply a lot less work for me...on the other hand, it would hurt a lot if the AI became more successful than me.

Since writing meaningless, heartless stories was already very meta. Most people sadly had not realized that fact though. They were too busy staring at the 3-6 chapters that were dumped on them daily to care bout that.

But this whole situation was not about the lack of taste of your average reader. No, it was meant to send Billy The Kid back to his wig-wearing Mom.

Yes, everyone clearly had not read enough of this wonderful concept narrated by yours truly.

After all, this whole thing had to be worth the one click of a button the user made to give me that powerstone. Clearly, such a feat of hard work needed to be honoured. Imagine if every person could press a button... the world would be such a better place.

But alas, intelligent life was still rarely seen on the surface of this blue rock floating in space.

On the plus side, you guys gave me more content to write and that made you all a winner in my book. Now, nobody was reading said book...yet we did not mention sad things here.

We need those upbeat topics, the stuff to make everyone happy.

1.80 humans die per second. That meant, that in the 3.08 minutes the average reader spent in a chapter of mine, there would have been 338.4 deaths. Made you pretty glad to have spent those 3 precious minutes on my story, did it not?

That's surely one way to kill some time.

Or how about some other very uplifting news? How about some information in regards to the heat death of the universe? I might also tell you that your Mom and Dad were not "wrestling" in the bedroom.

Yup, let the realisation hit you and call your therapist for an impromptu session because you would desperately need someone to talk to about the things you saw that fateful night.

There were so many happy topics to choose from; I could hardly decide on what to tell you guys next!

Though, I do apologize to everyone dude and dudette out there, who actually stumbled in on their parents going to town. Not even my worst enemy should get to see such a gruesome thing. The reenactment of your conception should remain behind locked doors.

It was also suggested not to make any sounds like some dying moose. Because those can be deadly for the youthful innocence of any unforeseen bystander, who could now not unsee...

Look at poor Billy and wonder what kind of traumatic events he had to live through to become this mess.

And no, having read Wn novels was, for once, not the answer to the problems.

The issues my little kid had were far deeper; it was the lack of accountability for bad writing.

Nowadays, one could insert stuff like Uniporn, the unicorn or other characters into a story and nobody bat an eye. Seriously, it was only due to these strange suggestions that this story became so bad.

Yet, why were people still filling more crap into the stomach of my little one? Could they not see just how fat it already had gotten from that unhealthy crap?

Of course, this did not stop a select group of fans, mainly one dude, to turn this masterpiece into an un-family-friendly cesspool of toxicity. Just how much more brain damage do you want to inflict on this harmless being?

It had never hurt anyone, outside of killing my brain cells.

So, why would anyone willingly hurt my darn kid that way? Mind you, it was kinda fun to see it burn. But, as a responsible author, at the very least I had to pretend that I was concerned about its fate.

I did not want to be branded a freacking psycho from the get-go. This kind of sentiment was reserved for people, who had read my Born&Torn novel. But, this was not the time to tell people about my favourite child....

We were bringing Billy, aka System for Dummies, to his grave. Sorry, to his "mother".

That was a total beginner's mistake, I swear on me Mom. Wait, you don't believe me? Come on, leave me with some room to deny serious stuff like that. I still wanna slap the child and family-friendly label on the story.

Besides, did your parents not teach you any manners? Normally, you should just ignore these things and pretend to be oblivious bout all the horrible stuff.

Else, these numbskulls might figure out that we have been making fun of them all along.

This would ruin the fun for everyone involved and we could not save everyone from their own inherent lack of brain activity. At some point, it gotta be every multicelled organism for itself.

Quick, they are onto us we needed a distraction. Boobies! Boobies with nipples. Squish them like those squeaky toys. Insert yourself into the story and forget about the last few things─you never read them in the first place.

Had it worked? Were we free from any suspicion?

Hmm, I do think it worked. Though it was hard to tell since I had made the same joke already. Furthermore, nearly no one was reading the story in the first place.

Seeing no one complaining about the "creative" joke-telling made it obvious that everything was just fine.

In fact, it was so fine that Billy the Kid was not killed by an angry mob coming from the web.

Great success!!!!

Billy the Kid might look at me and beg for the sweet release of death, but it had not been milked dry just yet. On WN this was un-fucking-acceptable. We had to kill this story in every conceivable way.

Yes, the authors of WN had made an oath to suck the life and soul out of everything they touch. So, as the authors, who came before me had done, it was my obligation to do the same.

It pained my soul, but it must be done. My story could not find rest until the 100 collection barrier had been reached.

I might have run out of topics long ago and the story should have ended after chapter 6 and nothing made any logical sense whatsoever and writing this filled me with a deep urge to spill the blood of the innocent and as long as one ignored all these red flags plus the others that I could not mention due to time constraints and, dear God, there were a lot of red flags...

...but I would do as my ancestor authors demanded.

Or if you want to know the real reason I was just hella bored.

Oh look at the word count, it was time to say goodbye to little Billy the Kid. Everybody wave him goodbye as Wig-me put my baby to a very, very, very long sleep!

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee fat middle-aged kid called Billy.

Join us and let us ignore the story together once we broke through the 100 collections!!!!