"I'm bored," The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling said as he twirled a slipper around his outstreched big toe and tapped lazily on his ipad. "Bored, bored bored."
His butler, Malphred, set down the tray of sandwiches he'd made for the Master and frowned. "Have you applied for a job, yet? These are the last of the sandwiches, and I had to use the green turkey in the drawer. Also, the weekly payment on the furniture is due, and this morning, the cat was repossessed. But if you found a job," he added, "we could get the cat back, buy some groceries, and another bed. I'm tired of spooning."
"I can't," The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling said mournfully. "That's the drawback of my genius. It means all that's really open to me careerwise is to surf the internet and tell people when they're wrong - and you know that's a mighty enormous task, Malphred."
"Word that," said Malphred.
"Besides," The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling added, "if I actually get a job, we'll never get our loan modification approved."
"True," said Malphred. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "We could take one of the cars into the city, and go cruising for chicks," he suggested.
"That isn't a job," said The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling.
"That's not what you wrote down on your mortgage application in 2005," said Malphred. "No, what you really need is a job where you can become enormously wealthy, have a bunch of cool toys, hang out with Claudia Schiffer, and fight crime - all while doing a job that appears so easy to the rest of the world that they would want to do it too, if only they had the time, or could talk you into doing it for them while splitting the profits."
"If only I could be given a sign of what that job should be," said The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling.
Just then, a bat came crashing through the window and flew past them, shrieking.
"I've got it!" The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling exclaimed. "A Bat! I shall become a Bat!"
"That's a really stupid idea," said Malphred. "Although," he added thoughtfully, "that might qualify us for the loan mod."
Before The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling could reply, two figures wearing jetpacks came flying through the remains of the window and crashed to the floor. "Ha ha ha, Stephen King," said the figure with the shaggy hair and cool shades. "I told you my Tesla 9000 was faster."
"You cheated, Award-Winning Neil Gaiman," said Stephen King. "Those weren't supposed to be released until Tuesday. How did you get one?"
"I loaned Elon Musk money," Award-Winning Neil Gaiman replied, smirking. "He's broke, you know. He told me so while we were flying to Aruba on his jet."
"Hey!" said The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling. "You're Stephen King and Award-Winning Neil Gaiman, here, in my enormous house which I inherited and then mortgaged, at a pivotal point in my life. Are those jetpacks?
"Yep," said Stephen King. "All famous authors are issued jetpacks. They're what we use to get to our private islands where we count our money while being massaged by gorgeous women who dress up as Power Girl while we eat gourmet pizza and read novels by Rick Castle."
"You know Rick Castle, Stephen King?" said Malphred. "That's wicked cool."
"Yeah, but his brother Nick is cooler," said Award-Winning Neil Gaiman. "He's a cartoonist."
"I never realized how wonderful you guys had it," said The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling. "How do I get a job like yours?"
"Ha ha ha," said Award-Winning Neil Gaiman. "That's the best part. All you have to do is take a weekend off and type stuff, then sell it for tons and tons of money, and then people give you lots of awards and you get to go to parties with chicks."
"And you don't even have to do that much," said Stephen King as he handed Malphred a card. "If you have an idea, call me and tell it to me. I'll write it up and sell it, and we'll split the money."
"Sounds good," Malphred said as he handed the card to The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling. "Thanks loads, Stephen King and Award-Winning Neil Gaiman."
"No problem," said Stephen King as he and Award-Winning Neil Gaiman powered up their jetpacks and headed out the window. "We'd stay longer, but we have to stop a robbery, then meet Claudia Schiffer for dinner on Tom Clancy's island."
"That's it!" The Man Who Was Not Yet Meyer Rowling exclaimed, as he pounded his fist on his ipad and inadvertently improved its reception. "I shall become a mega-giganta-selling novelist. But, I'm going to need a pseudonym. Rick Castle used HIS real name and now he's been roped into doing charity events all the time. I don't want to miss out on my Schiffer time. But how do I choose the right name?"
"Easy," said Malphred. "Look at the next two movies in your Netflix queue, and take one name from each author."
"Chick names?" The Man Who Had Just At That Moment Realized It Was His Destiny To Become Meyer Rowling said doubtfully. "You think anyone will notice I got my pen name from a couple of chicks?"
"You sound like an editor," Malphred the butler said to Meyer Rowling, "But trust me - if you sell enough books, no one will ever care."
For more on the works of Meyer Rowling:
THE TWILIGHT OF THE DEATHLY HALLOWS
THE ECLIPSE OF THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCESS
THE SECRET CHAMBER OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN
And yes - it's been JUST that kind of a day.