Tevun-Krus #80 - WattPunk 2.0

Part Four: Mad, Bad and Writing for Wattpad - by @OutrageousOllo

MAD, BAD AND WRITING FOR WATTPAD

by @OutrageousOllo

PROLOGUE

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Those were the words typed onto the screen by @skywalkerIV. He looked up at what he had written. The muscles in his hands quivered. He closed his eyes. He breathed in the moment. His last moment. Because directly after that, his brain exploded and splattered against the screen and keyboard in a thick, bloody, lumpy glue.

Smoke curled up from the barrel of the gun and into the nose of the cloaked figure standing behind the mangled head of @skywalkerIV. He sighed a deep, tired sigh before speaking.

"Don't blame me. You knew FanFiction was illegal here." He sounded suspiciously like another mysterious guy you'll meet later in the story. "What did you think this is? FanFiction.netPunk?" He turned directly to face you, the reader. The dim light from @skywalkerIV's computer shone onto part of his face and revealed a half-moon of scarred skin. "No. This is WattPunk. So sit back and enjoy. Because this is all canon. What I'm about to tell you, it really happened."

PART ONE: TOBACCO CAN KILL AFTER ALL

His name is @AngusEcrivain and if you don't know who the fuck that is, then you may as well give up on life and become one of Lord WattPad's bunghole-cleaners (colloquially known as "winning a Watty").

There he sat, in the dim light of his writing room, his pale, vampire-like skin illuminated only by the faint light of his solid-gold WattBook and the four cigarettes hanging from his mouth. Ecrivain's Specials—Smoking Causes Automatic Awesomeness. Nothing less for the man himself.

He wasn't writing, as it was only early in the evening and he wasn't in need of any more FAME. His supplies were pretty high. He had enough FAME saved to last him for the next three months, and that was if he stopped writing altogether and stopped getting any royalties, which would never happen. He was idly browsing the rankings, checking to see if he was still at the top of everything. Which he was. No surprises there. Even the non-Wattanized—those not touched by Wattpad's tender kiss—savages in the South Pacific knew who @AngusEcrivain was.

It wasn't his fault. After the roaring success of Tevun-Krus, he and @MadMikeMarsbergen were both propelled to fame and fortune. By the time Wattpad entered its fourth century, they were already on track to become the two richest men alive—after Lord WattPad, of course. Now, in the eighth, they were truly killing it. Kept alive by their daily injections of FAME, which they earned by having extremely popular stories, they were practically immortal. Nothing stood in their way.

Nothing, except for this shitty WattBook, apparently. @AngusEcrivain's screen flickered and buzzed, ants marching across the display. What a piece of junk. It had been a special gift from an anonymous fan. Usually he would have just thrown such a gift in the incinerator, but this one was a little more high-class than normal, as it was made of solid gold, with his "@username" engraved in the top-right corner. So he decided to give it a try. But now, it looked like it was going in the fire after all.

Now the image on the screen was changing, flicking from the live rankings to a picture of a cartoon bunny. It was a fucking weird bunny rabbit, nothing like anything he had ever seen before. Its eyes were bloodshot, its teeth were rotting and its paws had been replaced with gloved human hands. One hand was covered in gold rings and chains and the other was holding the biggest, fattest cigar @AngusEcrivain had ever seen. The rabbit laughed and a ring of American dollars floated around it, which was even stranger, as America had been dead since Wattpad's second century and forgotten by the third.