Gary Sue

Cliché

Gary Sue lived a perfect life in a perfect world. The sun was always shinning for him, and a smile almost always graced his decent looking features. He had a well paying occupation that he enjoyed well enough, and a female that loved him. Gary was happy.

And then one day, everything changed....

Gary was going about his day as usual. His gaze was glued to the newspaper folded out before him, and a cup of steaming coffee was raised to his lips. He was chuckling - probably not the brightest idea if one took into consideration the fact that he was holding a hot beverage, but that thought failed to breach his mind -
The characters slammed into the middle of the handful of short stories the newspaper boasted were so... cliché.
The fact that he could guess what was about to happen based solely on what he knew of over cliché characters amused him greatly. He quite enjoyed making fun of the authors that wrote them. Did creating an original character really require that much work? Apparently the answer was a blatant "Yes", because each of the features short stories were boasting a dark haired, pale skinned, blue eyed teenaged male as their main character.
They were written off as a brooding bad boy in a bomber jacket and perfect James Dean style haircut. They had a tragic past that seemed to affect them only when it helped their case with their "true love". They didn't give a crap about what anyone thought about them, and they paid little attention to the females who were always swooning over them as of their lives depended on it. They were that one guy everyone wanted to be friends with, the star jock, and most importantly, he was British.
This guy sometimes even possessed some sort of supernatural power. It was never anything interesting, in fact, it was almost exclusively Vampires and Werewolves.
The guy would end up in some sort of crazy situation, usually consisting of starting to hang around your prime example of a helpless white girl. He would claim to love her out of the blue and with no buildup whatsoever, and magically enough, she would always admit that she had had a crush on him for some time now.
The guy would whisk her off to live in their newly found Happily Ever After, until suddenly, the girl's muscular hunk of an Ex would show up. The guy would suddenly gain the ability of using some awesome set of swords or staff or something, the ex would fall, but only after wounding the guy in some fatal looking way.
And then Mr. Cliché would heal up as the girl gave him a farewell kiss, and they would continue on their path to Happily Ever After as if nothing had ever happened.
Every. Single. One. followed the same path. How people could be so awfully uncreative, Gary didn't know.

It was around this time that a knock came at the door. Gary looked up. He didn't often get visitors at this time, and he didn't have anyone planning to come over. A frown creasing his face, he set his coffee down and folded his newspaper, heading for the door.
He opened it, and was quite surprised to find a gang -no other word fit them well enough, they looked hell bent on revenge for who knows what- of teenage females. Confused, he opened his mouth the speak, only to find himself interrupted as a short Blondie who looked to be the leader of the little group began screaming at him.
"How dare you!" She trilled out with such power that Gary found himself taking a step back. Boy, did she have a set of lungs on her. She should take opera lessons or something, put them to better use than yelling at strangers.
"Sorry?" Gary questioned in the most polite tone he could muster.
"How dare you!" She repeated. "They take time to write! We pour our hearts and souls into those characters!" Here, she whacked him over the head with her hot pink purse that was big enough to hold nothing a purse was meant to hold. Gary gave out a small yelp of surprise, but before he could duck away from her, she was whacking him again. Her long nailed fingers on her unoccupied hand snapped out and gripped the front of his dress shirt.
"How dare you call them cliché! You try writing that kind quality, and then come back at us!"
By this point, Gary was well beyond confused. He didn't have the remotest of ideas as to what she was blabbering on about, and at this point, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. "Sorry?" He repeated, flabbergasted.
Blondie gave nothing of worth as response, hitting him over the head one more time before releasing him and lurching back unsteadily on her long, spiked heels. "Curse you!" She screamed at him. "Curse you!" Gary was scrambling for the mental safety of his house again, bewildered by the female's personality.
Blondie's group took up the chant, ceasing only once he slammed the door behind him and slid the deadbolt into place as an extra precaution. Peeking out from beneath one of the blinds that covered his windows, he watched as they turned, flicked their hair, and sauntered off down the block.
It took Gary quite some time to gather his thoughts once more. His body went about finishing up readying himself for work, but his mind wheeled over the odd happenings. Even as he made his way out the door and into his car, his mind refused to think on anything else.

------

His day only returned to normal at about noon. The rest of the day went over as it normally did.
It wasn't until the next morning that he began to notice the changes. He woke when he usually did, but something felt off to him. A brooding scowl seemed stuck to his lips as he wandered into the bathroom to begin to prepare himself for the day.
A startled cry halfway between a yell and a gasp left his mouth as he caught a look at himself in the mirror. Turning quickly to face it full on, he stared wide eyed. Gone was his spread of slightly greying hair and stubble of a beard. His face looked to have decreased in age by at least half, and his hair was now styled oddly and coloured... Black?
"What did I have last night?" He questioned himself. It took him a moment to note the oddity of his tone, but when he did his eyes bulged all the more. Another of the odd cry left his mouth. His once completely American voice had been tossed in the crapper and replaced by an overly British accent that went awfully with his new appearance. He lifted his hands and wiped at the mirror, as if maybe this was all some elaborate prank. Jo such luck. In fact, this only served to throw him into an even more mentally disturbed state, as his shirt tightened abnormally around his usually slightly chunky frame.

Grabbing the hem, he lifted it quickly up and off of his person.
By this time, he was inwardly amazes that his eyeballs had not yet escaped their socket. Did he have....abs?
It was around then that Gary tumbled back out of the bathroom and plopped himself face down on the bed. It seemed smaller now, had he sprouted a couple of inches to boot? A grimace stained his features. What in heaven's name was going on? 'It must be some sort of dream,' He thought to himself, desperate to find some sort of excuse for the abnormalities. If he just went back to sleep, everything would right itself again, he insisted. Snatching up a pillow and slamming it over his head, he desperately willed the needed sleep to fall over him.

It came, but by the time he woke again, things had only gotten worse.

Over the next few days, Gary did his best to try and get used to his new body. He called in sick for the next week or so, and scheduled an appointment with his doctor. There had to be some explanation to all of this. Surely it couldn't be natural!
Startlingly enough, these physical and vocal changes were not the only things to bomb his life. He found his tastes beginning to change. He felt urged to purchase a vast selection of leather bomber jackets, and a beach house out of the city a ways. This distressed him horribly. He didn't even like the beach! Why was this happening to him?
He spent a lot of time simply stressing over the changes. He grew quieter than before, speaking far less often and walking around with an ever present frown on his face. He refused to go out unless absolutely necessary. His thought process changed as well; it took a fair amount of time longer than the other changes, but it did come. Everything he said had some sort of deeper purpose to it now. He found himself ignoring those who he had once loved to hang out with, and his relationship with his girlfriend quite quickly fell apart.

Most distressing of all, he found himself reminiscing often over the slaughter off the parents he had once known to be still alive.

Gary's life was falling apart, and the pieces were slowly picking themselves up and morphing into something completely different.
Sadly for him, this was not a nightmare. This was reality, and it was there to stay.

Gary Sue was no longer the man he had once been. He had changed for good, much to his dismay. And that change had been the worst of all possible changes; Gary Sue was now devastatingly Cliché.