The Heroic Adventure to Save the World! or something

The Story

I'm late. Sorry about that.

You see, my job is very important, and if I'm ever late, there are going to be many negative consequences. For you.

You never really notice I'm here, but I always am. In every story you've read, I'm here guiding you along the way, helping you make sense of the story.

Hi. I'm the Narrator.

I was running a bit late this morning, and I didn't even have time to eat before rushing here to tell this particular adventure. I was going to have some pancakes this morning and a cup of coffee but nope. Slept through my stupid alarm again. I haven't even seen what's happening in this story yet. Give me just a brief moment to catch up.

Hm.

Ah.

So he's the hero....

No wait, he shoots green lightning, definitely the villain.

Aha! There's the hero. I think perhaps he's a superhero? No, a sword. He's a knight. Or maybe a ninja? He is wearing all black. But I suppose he could be a dark and brooding superhero. Or maybe he's the villain. Villains do normally wear dark clothing due to their evilness.

"It's over for you," the man with the sword yelled. Oh, and he has brown hair, by the way. He's a bit tall. Sorry, I'm already off track. Let me see if I can figure out his backstory. That seems a bit important.

"Um, excuse me!" the narrator yelled. The two combatants ceased their warfare and looked around. Oh of course, they can't see me because I'm invisible. Did I mention that? Well, I'm sure you already guessed that since I'm the narrator.

"What was that?" the villain (?) asked.

"Some kind of mysterious voice," the hero (?) replied, looking toward the sky. "Some kind of British, mysterious voice."

"I'm the narrator of your story. I'm relaying the account of your adventure to the reader. I just need to catch up on what's going on, if that's alright with you."

"Our actions are being recorded?" Green-lightning-man asked. "Are they reading what I'm saying right now?"

"Hold up, have you been watching us this whole time?" Sword-dude asked. "This sounds like a severe invasion of privacy to me!"

"No, I just got here myself. I was supposed to be here an hour ago, but I slept through my alarm and my car was out of gas this morning, so I had to jog to work. There was a lot of traffic too... I think we should get back to the proper story now. Which is your story."

"My story?" The man who was wearing black asked.

"Your story?" the ugly and kind of annoying man with lightning asked. "Why would anyone care about you? Obviously they're here to see me avenge my dead wife and take over the world."

"Aha!" the narrator exclaimed. "You must be the villain then. A dead wife and a plot to control the world are definitely villainous plots."

"But I have legitimate reasons!" the obvious villain cried. "Three years ago, my wife was taken away from me in a lightning storm. Overcome with rage, I decided to-"

"Excuse me for one moment," the narrator, who was clearly bored, interjected. "I need to be writing this down. Do either of you mind if I dictate verbally? It helps me think through words more carefully."

"Have at it," the hero, who now sat cross-legged on the ground fiddling around with his sword, stated.

"Perfect." The narrator, which was me of course, found a pen and paper and began to write and express his words loudly for both the characters to hear. "'Once, long ago, there was a hero named...' um... Hey you, with the sword, what is your name?"

"I am Liam Smith."

The narrator, who was extremely handsome, wrote the name down. "Smith?" he expressed with disdain. "What a cliché and boring name. Is that really your last name?"

Liam, the boring sword-guy, nodded his head. The narrator sighed.

"'...there was a hero named Liam Smith, and his name was boring, and so was his personality. This is likely the most one-dimensional character ever placed into a story.'" The narrator stopped writing. "Liam, give me the rundown of your backstory. Why are you fighting this lightning person? Did he hurt someone you cared for, or maybe you swore to enact vengeance on him for bullying you in middle school?"

Liam Smith stood and bowed his head overdramatically. "I am a humble man from humble roots. My parents were murdered when I was but a child, and my growing up years were met with much strife and hardship. An old wise hermit brought me into his home and raised me as his own, teaching me the long-abandoned skill of sword-bearing. Little did I know, he was training me to take on the fiercest and most vile dictator to ever roam the earth."

The narrator wished he had stayed in bed this morning. Perhaps he could have just let this watered-down story just disappear, never to be read by poor innocent readers that are just looking for a good story to read.

"Thank you." The narrator cleared his throat and began to read the story aloud as he wrote. "'Liam Smith was boring. No one around him really thought he was interesting, and his entire backstory was stolen from every other superhero blockbuster flick. In fact this story one day might become itself a terribly cheesy b-grade action flick. That's how boring Liam Smith is.' There, I believe our story is coming along nicely."

From the expression on Liam "Boring-Man" Smith's face, he was truly offended by the narrator's excellent and accurate description of him.

"Now," the narrator continued, looking toward Lightning McQueen, "every mediocre hero needs an equally if not more watered-down villain stereotype to face down. Mr. Lightning Fingers, please tell me all about yourself. Besides your wife dying and your freak accident with lightning which gave you your powers, of course. No one cares about all that."

Obviously, the villain was offended by this. He glared up at the sky, not evening close to staring at me in the face. "Who do you think you are?" he bellowed evilly. (Sorry, I'm losing interest in these two stereotypes at this point, and evilly is the only word I could come up with.) "I will right the wrongs that have been done to me, and I will rule the world!"

The narrator yawned loudly, trying to freely express his boredom. "You know what," he said, "I'm not going to continue this any longer. Obviously you two are going to continue to fight until the hero wins at the expense of his arm or whatever, and the villain will fall off a building to his doom. I'm going to move on with my life and allow this story to never see the light of day."

Although there are countless stories that are given time in the spot light, there are infinitely more untold stories that will forever be ignored and neglected. Write stories that matter, not clichéd messes with weak characters and bad narrations.

Kind of like this one.