It’s not as though Frank intended to let his writer fail to document his greatness, as he mused looking through the fourth wall, but it’s more a collective failure of things. Even the greatest of men, Frank Dieselwang, has to rest and recover sometimes. Self care is important, he noted to himself with a growing sense of sincerity that could give Mary Poppins a run for her money. Yes, that’s it, thought Frank Dieselwang who was definitely not just thinking what the author was thinking at the particular moment in a fit of self insertion.
As Frank mulled this over, suddenly there was a knock on the door. Frank opened it and with ultra natural quickness and mental acuity, noticed a gun barrel barely dodged a gunshot from the gun barrel that was aimed at the position his head formerly occupied. The gun was held by his nemesis, Reiters Bloch!
“Reiters Bloch! My strongest of foes!”
“Yes it is I, Reiters Bloch!” Reiters Bloch cackled at first and then trailed off into silence, staring down Frank. Frank stared back at Bloch, mirroring his silence.
Time passed. Frank grew restless, and lulled into Reiters Bloch’s pace. The pace of nothing at all. The pace of despondency that one gets when someone writes something really heartfelt, puts it online and receives no likes, favorites, or +1s. But a feeling, deep within Frank, one of his largest muscles, began to beat.
It was probably his bicep, the writer doesn’t have an anatomy degree after all. With the beating of the bicep, Frank focused within and knew he had to continue to fight instead o laying down to take a wonderful nap, as appealing as that was. Frank roared and got ready to punch the living daylights out of Reiters Bloch. But Reiters wasn’t there. Frank looked down at the doorstep. There was a note, with no return address, because notes don’t have return addresses.
It said “Watch yourself. Or I’ll be back.”
Frank grimly looked at the note, then tacked it to his refrigerator.
