Hoof of the South Star! (Featuring an unpleasant guest)
Sound had come into the office early this morning. Normally she wouldn't go in, seeing as she did most of her work at home, but today was different. Today she'd be receiving the new script for the newest issue of Hoof of the South Star, the comic she was responsible for drawing for. She passed by security and went over to her desk, checking out the envelope lying right there.
"So, this is it, huh?" Sound said, flipping through the pages. She noticed that it was a bit bigger than usual, but didn't think much of it. "Well, might as well take this home," she said, walking to the lobby.
"Hold it!" a voice called out. She turned to see it was her editor, Mr. Bates. "Sound, I'm gonna have to ask that you don't take that script home like you usually do."
"Really? Why not?"
"It's a Special Edition comic. We got a guest writer to do this one and don't wanna leak any details, so we're keeping it all here," he told her.
"Huh. Alright. Does Heyfield have his stuff on my desk?" she asked, knowing that her had a habit of placing his models on her stuff while she was away.
"Nah. I told him that he really needs to clean up and stop leaving his stuff everywhere. Turns out that he was really excited to have the guest writer here and really wanted to impress him. He's a huge fan."
"Wow. Who is this guy?"
"Ever hear of the name Grain Miller?" Bates asked, hoping that Sound was not about to ask 'Who?'.
"Grain Miller wrote this issue?!" Sound asked, excited at the prospect of working on something done by him. "He's one of my favorite writers of all time! He helped establish the 'Dark and Edgy' mood in comics! Can't wait to see what he's done with the characters."
"Same here. Hopefully it isn't anything that we'll need to worry about," Bates told her, thinking of how is role as Editor would reflect with this issue. "I'm apparently told by the higher-ups to let him have more freedom over this project, so I can't interfere too much with it."
"Who would want to interfere with an artist like that?" Sound was too excited to get to work on this new script. "I'll start right away!" She galloped over to her desk while Bates just stood there, not knowing what to tell her.
Approaching her desk, Sound saw that Heyfield was still there, packing away the last of his stuff.
"Hey, Sound! You hear about the guest writer for your comic?"
"Just right now! I have the script right here!" she said, holding the envelope right in front of him. "Too bad I can't share it. Totally would if I could, but NDA and all with individual projects and such."
"I know, right? Can't believe that your guys got him while I just got told that my thing's on hiatus." Sound was shocked to hear that from Heyfield.
"What? How'd that happen? You guys were pretty solid in sales."
"Yeah, but it turns out that the other writers have no idea how to continue the story, so we're all stuck with nothing. Not even any filler stories to do. Guess I can spend more time with Golden Bell at least."
"Sorry to hear that. You have any projects that you're doing on your own?" Sound thought that maybe Heyfield had his own thing like her and her music.
"Well, I totally could try out some professional smithing. I know I'm good with that. Bell and I just made this neat halberd and it has a couple of lookers." Sound had forgotten that the two were into blades and such. At least they could both work together in projects.
"That's something. Maybe you could practice some artwork as well. Maybe focusing on improving things like, um, the hooves on your characters. And perspectives. Also, you really need to work on your eyes. Maybe you could-"
"Sound, I know you think I'm a terrible artist. That isn't any secret," he let her know. "I just do my thing and ponies buy it. So, yeah, I kinda don't care." As he walked away, Sound couldn't help but feel that she had judged Heyfield a bit too harshly. "Oh, and I left a sandwich inside your art compartment about three weeks back. I'm not gonna risk going in there, so good luck."
"Doesn't matter! I have a job!" she yelled back, realizing that that was less of a 'playful jab' and more of 'teasing somepony because they're parents literally just died'. "Wait! No. That totally came out wrong. What I mean is, um, you suck!"
"I can't hear you over the sound of my fanbase!" he replied, laughing as he left.
"Damn," she said, knowing his fanbase was enormous compared to hers. "Whatever. I get to work on this bad boy." She took the script out of its envelope and started glossing it over.
The smile that Sound had on her face started to slowly disappear from her face as the more she read through it. What she thought would be an interesting tale on her apocalyptic story felt more like an issue that made the reader wish they were there while the apocalypse was happening. She felt like this was some sort of prank. After all, Grain Miller couldn't write something this...bad. She knew his work. Well, at least his early stuff. She wasn't so sure now. After finishing the script, she just sat down and stared out into space.
"Hey, Sound!" Golden Bell called out to her, seeing her vacant expression. "Is something wrong?"
"Yes. Everything is wrong," she replied, pushing the script into her friend's face. "You know what this is?"
"A new script?"
"This is everything that's wrong with the comic industry. Not only is it sexist, but the dialogue actually sounds like a parrot trying to talk. Every line seems to be incomplete sentences that are repeated several times over and over. I'm not joking." Sound noticed that she was actually getting angrier the more she talked about it.
"Well, maybe it's just a first draft," Bell propositioned. After all, it's not like somepony with his experience would write something that bad unless it was his first version of the story."
"Yeah. That has to be it," Sound said, wiping the nervous sweat away from her brow. "After all, I doubt he expects me to draw this kinda stuff without double-checking the script."
"Glad to hear your common sense return." Golden Bell pat Sound on her head and walked away while Sound decided to check with Mr. Bates.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bates," Sound said while tapping on the door. "I think we need to talk."
"Sure. Come on in." Sound entered her boss' office and took a seat, hoping that her optimism would pay off.
"Um, Mr. Bates? I was wondering if you were supposed to go over this script, like, at all. I mean, you said that you weren't supposed to interfere too much with it, but I think that you might want to interfere just a bit. Or at least offer suggestions or anything."
"Well, that's actually the finalized version," Bates told her, hesitation in his voice. "He already had his work checked and that's the version we're supposed to print." Sound was visibly upset by this, as she could tell that this was the reason why Bates told her, "Look, I know you idolized the guy, but you have to understand that for the past several years he's been a bit, well, insane when it comes to his stories." Bates knew he was gonna have to explain several things and knew he'd hate every single one. After all, destroying one's hero is never really pleasurable.
"What do you mean?" Sound asked innocently.
"Well, you know that epic story that Miller did involving the dark reinvention of that Batmare character? He wrote a sequel to it. It sucked. He then had to do a story focusing on the rebirth of said character; ended up making her look absolutely insane and created a meme with one of the lines. That infamous story talking about how zebras were gonna take over Equestria if we let them in? You guessed it." Bates saw Sound become more and more shocked with every new comic he revealed in Miller's portfolio.
"But...what...why did we hire him then?"
"Apparently it was some weird mandate that we needed a guest writer ASAP and the other guys decided to hire him for our next issue," Bates explained. Anyway, that's what we need to work with, so let's do it.
"Come on! Can't we just try and convince him to change it? He's professional enough to allow that." Sound begged.
"Sorry. Apparently he left the country yesterday, so now we're stuck here with no way to change what he wrote." Bates whinnied after saying that. Sound was speechless, she now had to illustrate what she considered to be an awful comic book. With no hope left, she exited the office and sat down at her place. Feeling as if she could only go along with it, Sound resigned to read the first panel description for the story.
In this scene I want the broad (you know, that main character chick) brooding in the shadows as she looks at a puddle of blood This is what she says:
"Darkness. Darkness. This is my Apocalypse! Pain for all. Except for me. Celestiadamn. Celestiadamn. I'm the Celestiadamned Hoof of the South Star!
Sound started snorting as soon as she seriously imagined herself drawing this scene. Not only was the setting terrible, but that dialogue. She'd never actually seen a writer actually make the words bold when writing the script. She knew that if she did this comic that she'd never be able to call herself a professional ever again. Something needed to be done. Deciding that Bates was powerless, she decided to turn her attention to the only other superior who'd care about the quality of this comic; Quality Control.
"Cloverbud?" Sound asked gently as she knocked on the door to her office, hoping that she wasn't interrupting anything.
"Come in," a voice responded lazily. Sound came in to find her Overseer sitting at her desk, making marks on another associate's work. "Hello, Sound. How may I help you?"
"We have a problem," she said, plopping the script down on the desk. "I'm supposed to do the penciling for this issue. Just read it and see what I have issues with." Cloverbud grabbed the script on the table and read it to herself silently. After a full twenty minutes of silence, Cloverbud finally said something.
"I know how to solve this." She then opened up a drawer and pulled out a lighter and placed the script over it, flicking the switch over and over.
"No!" Sound screamed, grabbing the script right as she managed to get the flame going. "Listen, while I'd like to set this on fire as much as the next reader, we actually need to make this thing. Or something like it. This was written by a guest writer and we can't just get rid of it."
"Well what else is there?" Cloverbud asked.
"Honestly, I have no idea. This thing was written like it was done by somepony who'd never even read the story in the first place." Sound couldn't stand to see her characters be twisted like this.
"Wait a moment," Cloverbud said, getting an idea. "What if he never actually did read it?"
"Clover, what're you suggesting?"
"I'm saying what if he never actually did read these things and somehow just got the character information online or something?" Clover explained. "Maybe we can write a completely different script with his name still on it."
"Yeah. That seems to be going a bit far with it. Kinda think he'd know if we messed with the script that much," Sound explained. "However, that does give me an idea. What if we merely changed around the way some scenes were to improve them while still keeping the general story? That way if he does read it, he won't remember the exact details, but still feel like it's his thing?"
"You know what? That's just crazy enough to work. The only problem is that we need somepony who'd be able to change the script just enough to improve it while still keeping the feel of his work. Who here is skilled enough for one to do just a job?"
"I have an idea," Sound told her.
"So let me get this straight," Heyfield said, trying to understand this plan. "You two want me to essentially rewrite a story written by my favorite comic book writer with changed dialogue, but the same essential storyline? Why?"
"Because it's terrible," the two said at once.
"Come on. It can't be that bad."
"It is. Here," Sound said as she pulled the script out of her bag. "I was able to sneak it out because nopony actually pays attention to those NDA's. Now, just read it through and tell me what you would change."
"I doubt there's anything to change," Heyfield said confidently, reading the story through. While reading he was a given a pen and paper to write his notes down, but he didn't use them at all. After finishing his read-through, he declared, "I now know what it's like when your brain makes a grinding noise that you can't otherwise describe. I think I can fix it though."
"Really? How're you gonna do that?" Sound asked.
"All I need is an hour and I can set things right again. Until then, just chill out, make yourself at home, and don't touch the knife collection."
After leaving him alone, Sound and Cloverbud decided to check out Heyfield's place. While checking the place out they came across not only a knife collection, but a sword collection as well. Seeing as they were told to just not touch the knives, they decided to play with swords. After what seemed like only a couple of minutes, Heyfield came by with the revised script.
"Alright, girls. I think I've managed to make this story a whole lot better and not noticeably change too many details." He turned the corner to see the two dueling each other, each wielding multiple blades on each hoof. Cloverbud had stuck two in her mouth.
"Uh," she said, dropping the two blades in her mouth, "we can explain."
"Don't worry. You didn't touch the knives, and that's what's important. Anyway, I changed the dialogue to sound more sane and even make the artwork description much less terrible. It's not the best story ever, but at least it won't be the worst now."
"Thank you so much!" Sound said, giving Heyfield a big hug. "Wish I could repay you somehow."
"Well, seeing as I am out of the job for the moment, you guys could pay me something under the table since-"
"Aww, how sweet of you for doing this for free," Cloverbud said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Shocked, he didn't say anymore. "Come, Sound. Let's put this script back at the office and start first thing in the morning."
"Right on it!"
Following the month of work on the comic, Grain Miller would be eaten by a shark, leading to this comic being his final one. As a final monument, the three decided to use the original, terrible version of the story instead. The moral of the story is that life is meaningless, random, and attempts at change are futile.
Happy Valentine's Day!
