Larry and Harry vs the Story Killer

Larry and Harry vs. the Story Killer



Copyright May 29, 2009

Steve Antonette



 

        On one lonely night, the poorly shaded-in etching barely filled the night sky and the partial moon hung dully in the middle. Stalking the rooftop of the warehouse that was known as Doc Fox’s lab was an unusual looking man, well unusual as one would look in a whacky Cartoon such as this. He didn’t look like the rest of the people, he almost looked real, but his identity was that of a mystery since there was a ski mask concealing it. He didn’t waste time as he broke into deserted science lab. As he was frantically searching about, he knocked over random items off of shelves, causing quite the ruckus. But he immediately came to a halt and stared in awe once he saw what it was that he had come for. It item in question was gigantic, roughly six-feet in height, two feet in wide; a rectangular-shaped device. It was made mostly out of a reddish-brown colored rubber, with either end of the thing angled off.

         The mysterious man took possession of the bizarre item and he held it high over his head to proclaim self victory. As he released a maniacal cackle, several sudden flashes of bright lightning crackled in the background. “I have what I need to rid this place from my head. I can’t believe we thought this idea was so magnificent. It disgusts me, I’ll show them; I’ll show him we were wrong.”



         The day before, Doc Fox had told Larry and Harry to come to his lab in the morning. Since the last story, they had been impatiently waiting, stranded in this bizarre Cartoonish Land, praying to the heavens that the Doc will find a solution to their problem. That problem was simple, getting back to reality and their lives they were suddenly sucked away from.

At the end of the last story, with a successful trapping of the furry little bunny, Harry broke the tip of the object in question. It was the key to their troubles and thus, prolonging their departure back home. The good news was that the Doc was able to invent the device they insisted was needed; naming it, the Sharpener. Now with the pencil a little shorter, it can once again, be used to sketch, draw and write anything imaginable…

         

        It was like any normal day, well, as normal as living in a cartoon world could be, Harry was just waking up; the sun was shining straight through the window and into his tired eyes, agitating him to the point where he growled out. “That’s not woke me up, you’re gibbering woke me up, can’t you wait until noon to start narrating?”

         Larry was now woken up from Harry’s yelling at no one; both men were passed out in the living room, on different couches across the room from one another. “What are you mumbling about Harry, it’s ten in the morning?”

         “First things first, I’m not yelling at no one, I’m yelling at you.”

         Larry got right up and on the defense, “Me? What did I do?”

         Harry sat up and scratched his messy three strains of hair on the top of his head. “No, not you, that damn voice.” He looked up towards the ceiling and added “And second, thanks for clearing up the sleeping arrangements, wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression of us, like those two Muppets on that popular kids show. Wouldn’t want them to think we share the same bed, let alone the same room.”

         Larry rubbed his temples; he knew it was going to be a long day for sure now. “I thought you said you hadn’t heard the voice since that day.”

         “I hadn’t, until now; it’s been what, a week since that day?”

         Larry pondered, thinking what or who this voice could possibly be? Remembering that his old pal did possess an extensive and elusive imagination, back in the day he used to believe he was dating celebrities or how he has even met some of them while on vacation… Vacation Larry knew his friend never took, just what he created in his mind to escape the reality that was their pathetic lives. But this time was in fact different, since Larry himself was experiencing this as well, all except for this voice his over imaginative friend, claimed to hear. Or perhaps maybe it was just stress related; it wasn’t too much of a stretch considering their situation…

         “I’m not stressed, this isn’t stress, stress is; oh never mind now you’ll just think I’m nuts.”

         Larry seemed now totally perplexed, trying to piece this conundrum together. If Harry could in fact hear his thoughts, even know what’s about to happen before it partakes it had to be related. Curiously he asked, “Is it the same sounding voice?”

         Harry couldn’t quite tell, after all, it had been a week or so according to him since he’s heard this imaginary voice, but when he really thought hard, it did sound familiar, “Yeah, it’s the same guys voice, why couldn’t it be a chicks voice talking dirty in my ear, maybe a little nibble too?”

         Larry ignored his friends comments, he verbally put the puzzle pieces together, “Ok, we think it’s a narrator, same voice could also mean author too.”

         “An author, like he’s talking to himself while writing the story?”

         Larry shrugged; the notion made sense, but was just an assumption still, “Could be. But the fact that it talks to you confuses me, why can you only hear him, why not the rational one, me.”

         The other exclaimed “Why you?”

         “Well, then we’d know for sure.”

         “Yeah right,” Harry didn’t want to discuss the topic any further for now. He went over to the television and turned it on; it was the local news with a special bulletin. “I’ve done the same routine for days now, why hasn’t he narrated those times, why only now?”

         “Hello, sorry to interrupt your normal program, I’m Dick Hares with some rather shocking news. Some local buildings have disappeared, vanished without a trace. It’s like they were wiped from existence, no trace of anything left behind. We go live now to Stu Gotzum on location, Stu?”

         “Thank you Dick, I’m here live where the town museum once stood, but stands no longer.” The cameraman panned the camera over the site and showed no sign of the building rubble, nothing; tall grass now grew where this building once stood. “With everyone baffled, the police left with no leads, you can bet panic will surely start to ensue.”

         Both friends jaws dropped, eye’s bugged out further than normal, both looked at one another and then back towards the television as Larry was the first to say something, “What is going on here?”

         “Maybe the Illustrator didn’t like what he drew.”

         “The illustrator, you think someone actually drew this? And now what, getting rid of the buildings for fun? No, I think this is just messed up.” Larry went on; he just thought of something “Ok, so this voice is back and there’s something going on, this isn’t a coincidence. Now I’m positive the voice is in fact, an author. Because he’s writing a story about what’s happening to us, so with that being said, this event that happened, will eventually get us involved somehow.”

         Harry stood there blankly for several minutes, just blinked a few times as he was mesmerized by what his friend had said, or maybe it was something else. “No, there’s nothing else, I just didn’t quite hear everything Larry said. It sounded like a bunch of blah, blah, blah to me.”

         “I was saying, if the voice is who I think it is, he’s an author writing a story and apparently we’re in it. Why and for what, I don’t know. Most likely, it has to do with the vanishing buildings and who’s behind it.”

         Harry finally understood what his buddy was saying and then retorted. “So, this, author wants us to investigate the crime, probably come across some psycho and risk life? I’m not leaving the house now, I don’t want to die.”

         “What are you going on about?” Larry, now confused on what was going on, asked.

         “Well, you implied that we were going to get involved, right?”

         Larry raised an eyebrow and replied with “yeah, so?”

         Harry explained. “Well, this looks dangerous from where I’m standing, which means we’ll be risking our necks, I’m not a fighter, I’m a lover. Get some hot girls involved in this story and we’re set.” He then thought of an idea. “Hold the phone I do have an idea, well more like a thought. What kind of story and cartoons we are exactly?”

         “Where you going with this, wait, or do I want to know?”

         “Well, think about it, if we’re made for kids, there’s no threat of death. Made for teens, some blood, injury, but we should make it through. But then there are the adults, those malicious, violent lunatics, they thrive on death, explosions and the bad guy getting the upper hand on the good guys; which would happen to be us in this case.”

         Larry rubbed his chin, thinking over what his buddy was going on about, sounded like a scared kitty to him, but he didn’t want to try too hard and think, knowing if the author is writing down what he’s thinking, then his friend will hear and know how scared he truly was at this moment. That was when he realized, he was thinking all of this and was probably being written down, so he stopped pondering all together, looked back towards Harry, who was just staring at him, shaking his head with dismay.

         “Don’t judge me Harry, I’m allowed to be scared ok and have thoughts. Ok, so I was thinking…”

         Harry cut him off before he could finish. “I know, I can hear. I was going to say after, how can we be sure we’re going to get involved here anyways? Just because he’s writing about us and this came up, doesn’t mean our paths will intertwine, right?”

         Then the newsman spoke loudly for anyone in hear shot to hear. “Some action is happening now downtown, we take you there live, with Stu Gotzum. Stu, what’s going on down there?”

         The screen then switched to a man standing in the middle of the street, dressed in all black, complete with a hood, holding a giant, what could only be described as a big pink man-sized eraser. “Stu here, I’m standing several feet from a madman, claiming he will wipe out the entire city, quote 'erase all that my silly imagination has surely created'."

         Larry’s jaw dropped, shocked, amazed, he stated. “Is that a giant eraser?”

         Harry quickly replied since he knew the answer. “Sure sounds like it. Is he going to erase this place? What kind of illustrator keeps the final copy in pencil?”

         “One that wasn’t quite finished maybe?”  Larry then added. “Maybe and hopefully this is a rough draft.”

         Then a light bulb appeared over Harry’s head, shining bright, for once. “Hmm” He looked up at the bright light. “This must mean I have an idea of some sort.”

         Larry waited to hear what it was, but Harry didn’t share it, so, in dire need of knowing he finally asked, all out of patience, “Well… Are you going to share that bright idea?”

         “I’m not sure which idea triggered the light bulb, I have so many flowing through my mind, maybe it was the girls in bikini’s jumping on trampolines, or finding the fox and getting a hold of that pencil that he finally sharpened…”

         Larry cut in, “Ingenious!”

         Harry, ignoring him continued on with a most conniving smile. “And then I can draw a few hot girls and they will do all my bidding…” His smile vanished as he shook his head, trying to regain focus and get his mind back on track. “Although, back to my first thought, if this is meant for kids, then we can forget about half naked girls being involved. And if I see any hot naked girls, then we’ll know this is a story for adults, in which, shoot…”

         “Did you say shoot on purpose, or was it edited for the ratings?” An inquisitive friend asked curiously.

         Harry shook his head. “Nope, that was all me, I don’t want my young readers to think I’m a potty mouth.”

         “So, we’re doing this for the readers now? I’m so confused...” Larry slapped his forehead; he tried to make sense in a place where sense didn’t belong. “Because I really thought it was going to be a simple day, the pencil was working again; we’d have a leisurely morning and get back home before noon.”

         “How can you think of home with all this excitement taking place?”

         “Ok, now I’m just, out there, now you’re playing ball?”

         His best pal patted him on the shoulder to console him. “It’s ok to not understand… That’s what is going to make this exciting. Heck, if we get famous for this; just think of all the popularity we’ll get.”

         “What popularity?” a perplexed Larry sought answers.

         Harry explained further. “Well, if people are reading this, if it becomes popular and huge, we’ll be famous. People will stop us on the streets for our autograph.”

         Larry smirked as he shook his head, “Harry man, I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here. If this is a story, then we’re make-belief, we’re fictional characters created by the author himself, we’ll get nothing, no money, no fame just further adventures to mustard through.”

         Harry smiled flipped right around. “That really blows, there goes my drive.” He then began to think of other possibilities this could lead to and went with that curiosity. “Well, what if they make a movie out of this, I can see some young strapping individual and not to mention, incredibly good looking, to play me. Hmm” He pondered for a moment and then replied, “What’s that guy’s name from Transformers?”

         “You mean Shia LaBeouf?” Harry nodded to the response with a happy grin, Larry added. “You know, if this becomes a movie, then we’ll be represented by poorly drawn animated characters with dubbed over voices, probably by no named actors to keep the cost of the film low.”

         “You got to crush all my hopes and dreams don’t you?” His best friend shrugged his shoulders and apologized profusely.

         “Now that we got that covered, back to your idea… The pencil…”

         “I was just going over that idea and found a flaw,” Harry added. “What good will the pencil be if we’re up against an eraser though?” He continued on. “It’s meant to undo what the other creates, making it, the greater weapon here.”

         “Dude, you’re just not thinking silly and outrageously enough.”

         “I sure am… Anything you draw, he’ll just erase; lead just can’t stand up to a solid piece of rubber.” Harry turned off to the side, like he was addressing an invisible audience. “Sounds like a good line for a Trojan commercial.” He then gave a sly wink and added. “And for those readers who don’t have a clue what I am talking about, ignore this comment, please…”

         “Why, not like you’ll get the hate mail by the parents.” Larry smiled and added. “Besides, it’s never too early to start educating them on the subject.”

         “Good point.” Harry continued to talk about the plan in effect. “Man, I wish we had some Crayola’s…” Harry thought for a moment and then inquired. “Poop, am I allowed to say the companies name like that? Think we’ll get sued?”

         Larry reminded him. “Once again, not our problem, just go with the flow, if it comes up, I’m sure we’ll be confused with the editing and missing scenes…”

          “For instances, how he left out that I visited the bathroom and performed a small task during this conversation?” Harry brought up as Larry tapped his nose, signaling he was starting to comprehend the situation. “Funny when you really think about it though, the things we often refer to, that actually are the Brand names for them, for instance, cotton swabs, facial tissues, macaroni and cheese.”

         “Yeah, so,” Trying to get back on course. “No, a pencil crayon, or a colored pencil for our American readers, isn’t what I had in mind.”

         “Oh,” A very curious friend replied. “I only mentioned because back, when I was in school and I had to color something, I preferred good old, you know, pencil crayons. And when I messed up I pulled out my handy dandy eraser and nothing, it was still there. No matter how hard I rubbed or fast I stroked usually just end of ripping through the paper…” He suddenly tilted his head to the side, curling the corner of his mouth up and added. “And yes, after hearing him repeat over what I just said, I understand how dirty that sounded.”

         “So what did you do?”

Thinking about something entirely different for a brief moment the distracted Harry came back. “Huh, oh you mean the paper. So, I did what every kid back in the old days did, you know, before computers and such, I crumbled up the old paper, tossed her in the recycling and started fresh.”

         “What about White-Out?”

         Harry corrected him, for circumstantial reasons. “Don’t you mean correction fluid?” Larry acknowledged that he was, indeed right. “I wasn’t allowed to have any in my possession due to….” He turned his head to the right, and then the left, lowering his tone as well “my problem.” He then gave Larry, several non-inconspicuous winks.

         Larry got where he was going and said it out loud. “You sniffed the stuff?”

         “Shush, come on now, think about the readers here.” Harry looked back to his, invisible audience, “Kids, I do not use, or condone the use of home-owned chemicals to get high. In fact, drinking and getting high is bad news, brought to you by our sponsors… If we have any; be a good spot to edit them in. Ha, thank you Writing.com!”

         Larry just kept on shaking his head; he tried to get back on track. “So, let’s go talk to the Doc, get the pencil and see if we can figure out how to stop this guy. That way, we can end this story so you’ll stop hearing the voice and I can go back to having real thoughts, rated R dreams well until the next time he decides to put us through something.”

         “What about getting back home?” Harry inquired, did his friend forget the plan during all of this excitement, but Larry didn’t respond to the question, his demeanor since then had changed; he was less cheery than usual.

         Harry rubbed his chin, changing the subject and going back to a previous comment made, “Rated R huh. I’d get to you elaborate, but we’re still fuzzy where we stand on the age of the readers, so tell me afterwards.”

         So, both men set out for the laboratory, where they first met the fox and introduced the boys to the pencil. An incredible creation here in Cartoon Land, it enables the wielder to draw anything his/her mind could imagine. Too bad for most folks here in this, bizarre land, not many of them possessed the creativity, imagination, ingenuity nor vision to construct something or anything.

         While on the road to retrieve the writing implement, they were about to stumble upon something so vast, something so breathtaking, the shock would almost sweep them off of their feet.

         “Oh, I got goose bumps trying to imagine what he is talking about.” Harry broke the silence between the two, startling Larry.

         “Why, what’s he saying now?”

         “That we’re about to stumble by something scary, it’ll knock us over just from seeing it.”

         Larry stopped dead in his tracks, “really?” And then took a second to rethink his plan. “It’s up ahead is it?” Harry nodded, not sure where his friend was going with the information. “Well, if it’ll distract us and the way it sounds, it’s what writers call a, confrontation, so, we’re going to avoid it.”

         Perplexed, Harry asked “How?”

         Larry grabbed his friend by the arm and began walking down a different street, away from what, Harry assumed, something uncanny was about to partake. “By going another way, the longer, safer…”

         “More boring route, we’re not going to have faithful readers and fans if we don’t get them excited in this story man. I say we go see what lurks ahead, for their sakes if nothing more.”

         “So, you want to deliberately walk into an unknown situation, could be deadly, could be, most likely still, dangerous, for the fans. You know, we don’t get credit for this right?”

         “It’s why we exist, Larry. Think about it, we were losers living a crummy life, and then this happens, giving us a purpose. You want to let them down, fine, you go around and get the pencil, I’m marching forward and taking this plot to the next level, adventure!”

         “Did if ever cross your mind that maybe this is a spy story and sneaking around is what we’re suppose to do?”

         “Was the first story a spy story? No, didn’t think so.” Harry took a deep breath, “You know friends wouldn’t let friends go into a deadly situation without back up.”

         Larry took a sobbing deep breath, like he was about to give in to Harry’s demands, he then bluntly confessed, “Ok, I slept with your sister…”

         Baffled, Harry didn’t know how to respond. “What? Where did that come from? Talk about your unexpected twist in the plot.”

         “See, now you hate me and we’re no longer friends, see you later.”

         “Oh I see, you’re making it up, so I’ll get mad and say, I hate you, then split the group up and we part ways. Clever, but I don’t think so; I forgive you, now come on” Harry replied. It takes a real man to forgive a friend for what he admitted to have done, and shows how mature that person really is and builds a strong foundation for a solid friendship. Harry turned to his invisible audience once more. “Don’t say anything; I am in fact, really ticked off. I mean, what a jerk, but, I’m keeping us together for simplicity. After this, I’ll punch him in the face and tell him what I really think.”

         A clearly unimpressed friend stood behind the crazy individual, hearing every word he muttered and stated. “You know, just because you think you’re performing an aside, doesn’t actually mean you are. I can still hear everything you say.”

         Harry raised his hand high into the air and cried out. “Come on Author; give me something to work with here!”

         “Seriously now, you can’t think going into danger is the way to go. Think about it with me for a moment, please?” Larry continued on, he knew if he thought about it for a moment, the author would type down what he was thinking, Harry would hear it and reply before he even spoke, which would make him feel, less adequate because he likes to talk things over. “Don’t say anything, just listen.” Harry remained quiet, waiting to hear what his friend was trying to say. “Normally, yes, we’d walk into the danger, because we wouldn’t know the danger was there until it would be too late, correct?”

         Harry nodded, it was true after all. Larry smiled and continued. “But, we have an advantage, and maybe it’s there for a reason. Maybe, you’re hearing this warning ahead of time so we can make the right choice.”

         “Or,” Harry went on. “Since the author clearly must know by now I can hear his thoughts and his story, he’s secretly trying to trick us, thinking this way is the danger, when in fact, it’s the way you want to go, so if we proceed with your way, we will walk into danger. I think he’s using you, since after all, we are his puppets.”

         “Puppets, what do you mean puppets? I’m not a puppet.”

         “Yeah, in the end, we’re going to do what he writes, right? Move when he writes it, talk when he allows it. It’s like we’re pawns on a chess board, sure, we know the next proper move to make, in the end however, it’s the person controlling us decision on where we move to next.”

         “So you’re saying, just because we’re arguing about not going into danger, evidentially, we will venture forth because that’s where he wants us to go?”

         “Exactly, right now, we’re conducting a conflict in the storyline. A section in the story to waste time, fill in space; lengthen the story; however you want to word it. It’s a writing trick, a ruse to get a jaded reader excited on things to come. I know, I used to be a starving writer, gave up and got a real job.”

         Larry sighed with frustration; he tried to cope with the fact they did have to march onward, towards the unnamed danger that lurks ahead. But just then an idea came to mind, so he shared it out loud. “You didn’t perhaps hear the name of the story did you?”

         A confused friend questioned. “Do you mean the title? Not that I’m aware, why?”

          “Think about it, the title gives a brief description of the story. Or even hear the synopsis?”

         Harry pointed out. “Well, there’s a whacko out there with a chunk of rubber erasing buildings. I think the plot’s pretty straight forward.”

         “Yeah, I get that, but maybe this is just a minor scuffle to a bigger picture, maybe it’s our ticket out. Larry and Harry escape from this cartoon hellhole.”

         “Why would you assume that?”

         “Assume what?” Larry didn’t know where Harry was going with his idea.

         Harry clarified it for him. “You said Larry and Harry, why would you assume you’re name came first in the title? I’m the one that hears the damn script, so maybe I’m the star and its Harry and Larry seek answers.”

         “Because, Harry and Larry don’t sound right, Larry and Harry is smoother saying. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves aren’t we; it might not even have our names in it.”

         Baffled by what he was hearing, Harry replied. “Why wouldn’t it have our names in it? Clearly it’s about us and this stupid adventure we’re on, what else would the title be, Lions eat lambs, Cartoons raid the living?”

         “Well, simplicity is bliss, they say.”

         Just then, screams shrieked from the direction Harry had insisted danger gloomed ahead. Sketchy animated people came running past them, looking petrified. Puzzled, both men stood completely still, as the stampede of cartoons ran on by. Leaving them deserted and alone to face what they had fled from and our two pals tried to avoid.

         “See, since we were stalling, the writer had no choice but to create an alternating way of getting us into said danger.” Larry brought up just as they saw good old Doctor Fox, the scientist they set out to see, heading in their direction. Larry stepped out in front to grab the little critter’s attention. “Hey Fox, what’s going on here?”

         “Boys, am I so glad to see you. Did you perhaps see the news not too long ago?” and after they simply nodded their heads, the Fox continued on. “That same madman also stormed my lab and took in his possession the pencil. So I’m afraid, he has your ticket out of here as well."

Shock hit Larry and Harry’s face, then fear, fear because their plan to foil the psycho with the eraser was looking grim.

         “No crap it is,” Harry replied to the sky once again. “You just had to go there didn’t you? Damn writer, hearing, creating our idea’s only to use them against us.”

         Larry shrugged his shoulders “Honestly, you didn’t see this coming? It’s a common twist that writers will create in a story. Get the heroes thinking, then turn it around and use it against them.”

         “Oh, I knew it was going to happen, I just was hoping maybe our author was a novice and wouldn’t know that tool.”

         The Fox interjected by telling them what was happening further down the path. “Well, he is now using the pencil to create terror. First thing he made, a giant grotesque monster to rip our fine city to shreds.”

         “Oh peachy, now the plot thickens.” A distressed Harry muttered out. “This goes from a classic hero versus villain tale to a sci-fi? What’s this author thinking?”

         “Maybe when he started writing the story he just watched a bunch of fun action movies, but as days went on, struggling to come up with a plot and some twists, he had a scary thriller night and here we are.”

         “So what’s in store next?”

         Larry smiled. “Well, for the readers, they’ll have to read on to find out, us… We’ll have to experience it the hard way.”

         Harry replied while addressing his invisible audience once again. “I’m betting you’re happy to be a reader and not a character right about now huh?”

         Just as a building nearby collapsed, a monstrous brute poked his head out from behind it. The creature was surely grotesque, with its three reddish eye’s, drooling mouth with sharp pointy teeth, scaly shaded skin, huge paws with razor sharp claws…

         “Oh get on with it, stop being so damn descriptive, it’s an ugly giant beast poorly drawn with a lead pencil. Gees, nothing special to write home about,” An agitated Harry beckoned out. “And it doesn’t have reddish eyes not unless you’re coloring that in later.”

         “Well Harry, I don’t think he was talking to you, it’s for the readers so they have a better visual understanding on what we’re experiencing right now.”

         Harry replied, shaking his head. “Yeah, the reader can picture up something just as ugly without the wasted time, probably something even more hideous I’m sure. Well, that being said, I guess it all rests on our target audience once again. But enough, this is seriously getting out of hand here. We are surely going to die if we sit here and let the author control our fates.”

         “What do you propose then?”

         Harry slammed his fist against his palm and squinted, so he appeared tougher when he spoke in his deeper manlier tone. “We fight back, write our own story!”

         The Fox and Larry just stared at the demented one for a moment, while behind them, the monster in question tore buildings in half, Larry had to say something. “Harry, I think you finally lost it completely.”

         “Got to admit though, it sounded cool.” Harry grinned while the monster tore another building down. “But Fox, can’t you just recreate another pencil? So there’d be two?”

         The Fox seemed somewhat mystified with Harry’s question. “Create another? In this short of a timeframe, even if I could, I’d need to gather the components. I’d have to venture out of town… there just isn’t time, sorry.”

         A smirk curled up on Larry’s face. He just shook his head and replied. “Yep, I saw that coming too, typical answer in a whacky predicament such as this.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be more of a help. I wish I could just make another one up on the fly, but unfortunately, I cannot.”

Harry changed subjects, getting back to the problem at hand. “No sense dwelling on plot we can’t control. We need to figure out what set this psycho off and why he’s erasing this town. Lost his job, failed marriage, just some poor schmuck nobody likes and finally snapped… Sure all rather dull and dumb reasons, but…”

         His pal quickly retorted with, “Not dumb Harry, simple. And considering this is a comedy, simple wouldn’t take away from appreciating the humor in it all. Less confusing, more amusing. See, instead of him grabbing a gun and shooting a handful of people, he’s doing it in an over-the-top silly comedic way.”

                   While his friend was talking, Harry was trying to think and had pieced it all together. “I did?” He replied to something said out of the blue. It was enough to stop Larry from blabbing further and catch everyone’s attention.

         “You did what?”

         Harry figured he needed to clarify, for those who didn’t possess his unusual gift. “Well, the author here said that I had pieced it together.”

Excited, Larry pressed the issue further.          “Great, what do you think then?”

         But Harry was still baffled; he didn’t know what he knew. He tried to talk it through, hoping it would pop back in there. “Pieced what together? I have no clue what’s he’s writing about. Now it sounds like a lot of gibberish. Damn him, he’s toying with me now.”

         Larry responded, trying to make his friend understand. “He wrote it because he tossed in your mind an idea, and you’re suppose to remember that idea and share it in speech, where quotations are used.”

         “Couldn’t he just type down the idea instead of relying on me to remember it and repeat it out loud? Doesn’t that make somewhat, more sense?”

         “Well, it make’s it intense you see. By typing that, Harry pieced it all together; it creates suspense, plus makes you look intelligent and heroic since you solved the mystery. Damn, I wish he chose me instead of you to be his ‘comedy’ interest in this story.”

         Fairly hurt by his pal’s remark, he hollered back, “Comedy interest? What are you saying; that I’m the joke in this story?”

         A deceitful Larry shook his head, in hopes to cheer his buddy up. “But it also makes you the key character. You hear the author’s narrative text, which is making you crazy and say funny things, also, enabling you to hear and know key things about the story.”

         “And that’s why it’s the Harry and Larry story.”

         Larry finally clued in, the fact that had passed by them both several times, but it wasn’t until his best friend, Harry, said those three magical words did it become crystal clear. They were never reaching home; he let out a long-drawn out sigh. Harry, being a tad more serious than usual retorted. “Don’t lose hope man, we’ll get home eventually.”

         “No Harry, we won’t.” A depressed sounding Larry responded. “Reality belongs to those who are reading this tale. Meaning even if we do make it home, it’s not real; it’s still a make-belief world created by the author. And that’s why this madman’s doing what’s he’s doing. The writer is telling us why we’re here. We’re here to follow through his plot and entertain the readers. This whole story was for us to discover the truth.”

         “What are you getting at Lare?”

         “We better start liking where we are. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fun and vibrant; but it lacks that 3-D element quality.” He began to come up with way to stop the madman from erasing everything.

         “And I’m all for black and white movies and comic strips, but this is half-ass in the middle, rough coloring like in Grade school.”

         “It’s just the rough draft, a storyboard to get him through the story, help him visualize the scene better. Well, I presume and for his sake, hope so.”

         Out from the sketched shadows, the madman showed himself to the group of three, Harry turned to the Fox. “I know for a fact that’s him, but I have to ask, to verbally clarify things. Is that him?”

         “Yes, he possesses both the pencil and eraser.” The madman, propping the giant wooden tool on his shoulder, and dragging the rubber eraser by his side, he cackled at the devastating sight of the poor town.

         Larry questioned. “You know, considering the enormous size of the two devices…”

         Harry caught on, “He can’t wield them both, meaning he has to set one down, ingenious!”

         Larry retorted back. “You had to cut me off and take the credit didn’t you?”

         Harry shrugged, deep down, yeah he did, but wasn’t going to confess. “No, I was just excited and blurted it out, my bad.”

         “You can’t let me have one thing in this story can you? You got to be the one that hears the voice, the one that comes up with the ideas, the one with more hair, why am I even in this story?”

         Harry didn’t know how to react to his stressed out friend; he turned to the side and took a few steps away from the group. “I know you can hear me author, so come on; give Larry something, please, he’s starting to cry. Deep down, we’ll know who the star is, but, give him something…”

         “Once again, just because you think you’re doing an aside, doesn’t mean you are, we can hear you, stop being a douche.” Larry stormed off, back to where their apartment was, leaving Harry, along with the fox, alone to handle the evil, terrifying madman.

         “It’s that kind of attitude that gets you replaced.” Harry replied as the Fox tugged on his sleeve.

         “Sorry to bother you, but what about him?” The little reddish furred fox pointed towards the giant creature and madman controlling it.

         “Forget the damn story for a moment, Larry and I are having an argument.” Then something changed the man’s mind. “You’re right, something did, the readers, they picked this book up, expecting a good story, and by golly, that’s what we’ll give them. Larry and I can sort out our differences, in between the lines so to speak.”

         The antagonist had the eraser in hand, but was struggling with trying to decide on what to rub-out next. Muttering to himself, “Should I get rid of this building, or that, or maybe… I left myself an awful amount of work didn't I? I need something to lure his two pet characters out and end this once and for all.”

         Harry stood back for a brief moment; something he just heard raised some suspicion inside him. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on it, like he was waiting for something to just hand the answer over, but it wouldn’t… “Oh come on will you. Just throw me a damn bone.”

With that tactic out the window, he went with the only one left available, the heroic act. So, after taking a deep breath, self-assurance with him, he and the Doc approached the lunatic but kept a safe distance. “Give it up psycho, this cartoon’s staying put. Yeah, it might be a little sketchy, but it’s our home.” Harry turned to the side once more, like he was addressing an invisible audience, “For future reference, maybe outlining this place in ink so this cannot happen again might be a solid idea. Write that down, preferably in ink.”

         The madman erected a satisfying smile. “Finally, you came out of hiding. It’s time to end this story once and for all, I just wish I could go back and rid the one he already did. He should never have created you...”

With the Fox shivering in one place, Harry slowly repeated what he just heard, "He should never had created... me? Is that what you just said?" It was all coming together, who this being was, and what he was doing there.

Knowing he slipped up, he remained quiet. If these fictional characters knew who he really was, and what he was doing here. It might make matters worse. But the more he kept his mouth closed and thought, the more of the mystery Harry discover through his bizarre new ability he received since arriving in his whacky world.

With his eye's more widened than usual, Harry exclaimed. "Oh my God, I know who you are." With the psychotic man baffled, he continued on, "You're the writers subconscious. You think this is all one big mistake and are here to rid his imagination of it, aren't you?"

Disguising his fear, the madman cackled, boasting his holding the eraser high over his head. "No, I'm just sick of being somebody I'm not, and shall enjoy rubbing out his sketchy town."

         Harry laughed stating, “You won’t be succeeding in that task, I know who you are and I finally figured out what kind of story we’re in.” His speech baffled the criminal, who remained still, listening for further explanation. “Yes, I guess I do need to. You see the oversize eraser you’re holding, well this is a penciled in cartoon, so it’s an over the top prop, the same with the pencil. And that corny-cheese ball line you just delivered was what tipped me off the most. So, you see, if this is just a comedy, then you won’t be killing me.” He stood there, so sure of his idea.

         The Fox looked worried; he tapped his friend on the shoulder. “Are you sure about this idea?”

         Larry came rushing back, huffing and puffing, being short of breath he found it rather difficult to get Harry’s attention.           Waving his hands from a distance, he hollered, hoping he’d snag his pals attention.

         “What is it?” Harry knew Larry was coming back somehow. “Of course, you wrote it I heard it. Man, the damn author hasn’t caught on yet.”

         Larry took a moment to gain a breath and rest his rapid heartbeat. “What if this is a dark comedy?”

         “Dark comedy, you mean a black one? No, I’m white, so I think that would be highly racist and I wouldn’t condone such nonsense…”

         Larry made more sense out of what he was trying to say. “No, you know, a dark comedy; full of malicious, sadistic humor. Where bad things can happen to good people as long as it’s redeemed as humorous…”

         Harry caught on and added, “You mean like a giant eraser killing a penciled in cartoon. I see your point. But if this is just his subconscious wiping out the writers imagination, this wouldn’t be a story now would it. And there wouldn’t be readers reading… But if there is a possibility this is a story, and meant for kids, there’s only one sure way to find out the rating of this story…”

         “And what’s that?”

         Harry took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do and hollered out one short word, so loud, everyone in town heard. While chanting the word, doves fluttered away and innocent children off playing in the park around the corner, looked bewildered. Off in a nearby pet store, three monkeys stood next to one another, all using their hands to either shield one’s eyes, muffle the sound from his ears and the third used them to cover his mouth, preventing him from speaking.

         The Fox, Larry and the madman just stared at the profound man with their jaws hanging low; eye’s bulged out with shock, shock they couldn’t believe a word so vile was yelled out so loudly in a humble environment such as this.

         Harry smiled, looking rather satisfied and pleased with his actions and said. “And now we know.”

         “I don’t know who you are; I cannot believe what I just heard.” His best friend of ages retorted.

         The Fox added. “If you’re going to be using language like that, you can leave town now. There’s no tolerance in this city for mouths that foul.”

         “But don’t you see, it wasn’t actually written, you’re making a big deal out of it, so you know, younger readers are reading. See, sometimes you have to commit an evil act to prevent evil.”

         “No Harry, two wrongs do not make a right, even though two lefts make a right, but that’s geographic probability.”

         The Fox corrected the man. “I believe you mean three, two lefts would just send you back where you came from.”

         “Yes, I knew I said it wrong, thank you mister technical wizard.” Suddenly a light bulb appeared from out of nowhere and shined brightly over Larry’s head, “I got it.”

         “What? Oh a light bulb, congrats man.”

         “No, an idea to take out that thief,” Larry continued with his plan. “I need you to divert his attention. So I’ll grab it first, get him to turn and then you do it right after, ok?” Harry nodded, signaling that he was on board. Larry ran to the side and hollered out, “Hey!” He screamed at the thief holding the giant eraser. “Why don’t you come rub me out?”

         Harry dropped to the ground, holding his stomach while laughing uncontrollably, “Oh sure, you censor out my word, but blunt sexual innuendos you leave in?” Harry couldn’t stop laughing, he found it hard to breath, “Oh, it hurts, but come on, seriously!”

         With Harry’s wild antics, the lunatic’s anger rose far past his brink, fixating all his rage towards the prone man on the ground before him. Without a shadow of doubt that this story was solid and worth pursuing, he ensured his grip of the eraser and proceeded closer with the sole purpose of erasing said person from existence.

         “Wait, that’s me he’s narrating about!” Crazy Harry figured it out and rolled away, just as the giant mistake-banisher hit the surface where he once was. “I was right too!”

         Seeing the pencil now unguarded, Larry quickly dashed over and retrieved the item. The curious Fox joined his side and asked. “What’s your plan exactly?”

         Larry, knowing he needed to keep his answers both blunt and a mystery so eavesdroppers around couldn’t figure it out before he could execute, replied rather excitedly. “I’m hopefully to draw up a conclusion, but of course.”

         “Hmm,” The Fox seemed intrigued. “Are you, how does one say, a drawer?”

         With a subtle shake of his head, he began to scribble in a rush. “Me, no, not professionally, but neither is the person who drew this world. No my friend, the attention is all in the details…” He drew a very poor circle on the ground and quickly shaded it in, he just finished the last area as the giant monster came thumping over. Larry, with the Fox right behind, stood on the opposite side of the circle from the threat.

         “Now what do we do?”

         Larry smiled. “Grab its attention and lure it over here.” He then held up both hands, waving them high in the air. “Hey you drooling giant, over here!”

         The Fox was baffled; this guy finally lost his mind like his friend. The beast saw the little man down at the ground, taking the quick note of an easy opportunity to grab a light snack. It made a commanding roar and rushed over as Larry prayed out loud. “Hope that hole’s big enough.” The Monster stepped into the circle and fell down. It cried out as it continued to fall further into the seemingly bottomless pit. Where it led, only its creator knew. Both Larry and the Fox cheered with relief as they ran over towards Harry to lend him a hand.

         The nutty friend smiled and looked at the mystery guest wielding the giant rubber. “Sounds like my friend took care of your pet, now it’s your turn.”

         “Not before I erase you from existence, you annoying doodle.”

         “Did he just call me a doodle?” Harry questioned as the thief charged towards him, just as Larry snuck up from behind and, using the pencil, drew this shoelaces together. One foot marched forward, but was suddenly stopped, tripping over and falling flat on his face. As he hit the ground hard, he instantly lost control of the weapon and it slid out of reach and at the paws of the Doc.

         The police finally arrived and cuffed the psychotic thief with reporters standing by; dubbing him as the terrifying, “Cartoon Killer” as the officers took him away in the cruiser. Harry ran up and inquired the big question everyone was waiting for.

         “I’m doing this for the reader’s sake just as much as everyone here.” Harry winked towards the sky and then looked right at the man in cuffs. “So, why’d you do it? I mean I think I have it figured out, but I'll let you get in your big bad guy speech."

         “I’m remaining silent. You know you can't fully rid of me. I’ll always be there, lingering in the back of his mind. One way or another, I'll be back."

         Harry turned his head, shaking it rather distastefully, he said. "Seriously, this is your moment in the story to fill in the missing blanks. Explain why you did it; that inspiring evil scheme to help the readers sympathize with the antagonist.”

         The criminal released an evil laugh, “Well, in that case, than the secrets staying with me!”

         “You can’t be serious; this is your moment, precious lines of paper being wasted only to unravel your reasoning for putting the protagonist through all of this.” Harry stepped to the side, opening the imaginary floor for him to give his magnificent diabolical scheme speech.

         He was now fully in the back of the cruiser, the officer about to shut the door, Harry motioned for him to wait a second, giving the crook ample amount of time to rethink his decision, until he finally spoke. “Take me away boys, I’m done here for now.”

         The cruiser door slammed shut and drove off just as Harry and his two comrades regrouped. Feeling rather pleased knowing that for now, they’ve stopped the madman from erasing this fine Cartoon world and letting the story go on. He light-handedly pointed out, “You noticed they always show up right at the end, when the heroes foil the villain’s plan?”

Doc Fox retrieved the eraser from the ground, leaving Larry with the pencil since after all; he knew it was what these two guys wanted this entire time... Or was it now.

"You're absolutely right on that voice. Or is it?" Harry couldn't rid the cheery smile that was scattered across his face even if he wanted to; he was just too happy.

Larry seemed to know exactly what his old pal was thinking; he waited to draw out the bolt they figured would take them back. "So Harry, did you really know who that guy was, or trying to trick him into telling you?"

"That was the writers subconscious. It had to have been. Coming to this idea of the writers and try to erase what he's made? Maybe the writer had some doubts about the structure of this story, who really knows for sure. But his doubt gotten the better of him momentarily and tried make him forget us. But we were too strong for it. And another adventure prevailed."

Larry joined in with the sense of accomplishment, erecting himself a smile. "You're right, the fear, the excitement; I have to admit, was rather fun. I can't recall the last time I had this much fun." He looked down at the pencil in his hands, the tip firmly pressed down on the ground, ready to construct whatever he felt like.

         What felt like hours, but were only seconds, neither Harry nor the Fox knew exactly what Larry was going to do until he took a deep breath and pressed down hard, snapping the end right off. “Oops,” He sarcastically retorted. “Guess we’ll have to wait to return home it seems.”

         Harry smiled as he nodded; he knew it was on purpose. The slow obvious sarcastic retort came from his mouth, “Of course I did. Well shucks, looks like we have to stay for a little while longer now. What-ever will we do with ourselves?”

         The Fox reminded them. “I do have the sharpener back at the lab; we can get the tip back in no time.”

         Larry handed the broken wooden implement over. “No rush there. We’re going to stick around and see where this author takes us.”

         “So, more whacky adventures are in store?” The Fox seemed kind of nervous, but yet kind of excited as well. “I better get back to inventing and experimenting I suppose. We’ll need to restore what this man has erased after all.”

         “We’ll help, and maybe we’ll outline everything with a Bic, then a little eraser won’t be so scary.”

         “You know, now I’m worried, yeah, we’re staying, but…” Harry hesitated to respond but finished anyhow, “What’s next?”

         “You mean like, roll the credits?”

A tear dropped from Harry’s cheek. “Yeah, I don’t want that to happen.”

         “But it’s the end, what else do you want?” Larry simply replied. “Like that infamous cartoon pig always stuttered after the show, it’s all over folks.”

         “Hmm, maybe a press conference is in order…” Harry then turned to his invisible audience once more. “I thank you all for reading; I presume this is our second adventure. Now I imagine the author has a shout out or comment spot, please, give us positive feedback, because if you don’t,” He sniffled up, wiping the tears and runny snot with his sleeve. “I’m afraid we’ll cease to exist. If you don’t let the author know you like us, he might stop writing our adventures, and thus, our existence will be futile. That's virtually and theoretically killing us and you wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, am I right? Not after what we just went through to survive and get this story out there.”

         Larry saw straight through the hidden message his pal tried to pull off and called him on it, “What a guilt trip you just laid out Hare, you evil genius.”

         “I was going for an Emmy there, maybe an Oscar.”

         Larry slapped his forehead with shame. “They don’t hand those out to make-belief characters in stories, just actors in movies.”

         Harry dropped to his knees and held his hands high in the air as he cried out. “Can’t a guy catch a break?!”





THE END



A smooth Harry slyly winked to those still reading “Or is it?”