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White floor, white ceiling, white walls so far off in the distance that they look like the sky. It’s completely empty and featureless.\n\nHeather crosses her arms and looks up at the ceiling. “Really, author?”\n\nThe words ‘look, I’m tired, okay?’ appear, suspended in mid-air. They look like black paint strokes, but just floating in mid air.\n\nHeather walks around the floating words in a calm circle. She tilts her head, and her ears flop over a little to one side.\n\n“Lousy brushwork.” She says, looking back up at the ceiling with a smirk.\n\nA paint can and a paint brush suddenly materialise in front of Heather, just slightly above the ground. They drop the floor with a loud crash, causing Heather’s fur to stand on end as she jumps away backwards.\n\n“Ah! What the heck?”\n\nThin black paint spreads gradually in a puddle across the pristine white floor. The floor is suddenly tiled; it seems the author could be slightly more bothered.\n\nHeather snorts and tries to shake the paint off of her hind paws, leaving little paw print shaped gaps behind in the paint.\n\nShe picks up the can by the handle, and examines the words on its blue label, which has suddenly materialised just now.\n\n“Amateur. You didn’t even remember to mention the bucket has a label.” She says in a mellow tone, tail making a gentle wag.\n\n“What’s it say, let’s see here?” asks Heather as she reads it out loud. “...You can use this to paint in mid air, like I did. Go wild.”\n\nHeather grins with her toothy fangs. “Ooh, you’ll regret that.”\n\nImmediately, she paints a stick figure with stink lines above him, and cartoony glasses and a moustache. She paints an arrow pointing towards him, and labels it ‘author’.\n\nThe words ‘Oh yeah?’ appear in blue beside the picture. With blue brush strokes, the unflattering image of a cartoony possum digging through a big trash can materialises, with an arrow pointing to it reading ‘Heather’.\n\nHeather sticks her tongue out at the sky, before reaching into the painted trash can, and…\n\n…\n\n“Uh, author? What are you doing? Why can’t I move?” Heather asks, tail flicking with impatience as her arm stays halfway into the painting of the trash can.\n\n“Right, sorry.” Says a soft and slightly pathetic disembodied male voice.\n\nHeather’s arm becomes unstuck, and she pulls out a pair of sunglasses and a gold necklace with a dollar sign. She puts them on and strikes a smug pose.\n\n“I was distracted by a text from my mum.” The voice says.\n\nHeather snickers. “Imagine living in a universe where your god gets texts from his mum. What was it even about?”\n\n“I don’t know, air conditioning or something. Anyway, your dad’s here now.”\n\nOzzie the opossum immediately shrieks the second he materialises in the white expanse. “Is this the afterlife? Have I gone to purgatory?”\n\nOzzie dramatically pretends to faint, hand over his forehead, a rose materialising in his mouth.\n\n“Thank you author.” He says with a smirk as he examines the rose, before closing his eyes again.\n\n“Ugh, Dad”, Heather says with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “Your not dead, our author’s just having a mental crisis or something.”\n\n“He’s just like me for real, for real” says Ozzie.\n\nHeather winces with disgust. “Never say that again, Dad.”\n\n“Oh, you think you’re so cool, don’t you?” Ozzie says, snorting and crossing his arms, an embarrassed glow on his cheeks.\n\n“Well let me tell you, when I was your age, I was the coolest in my class. I could faint better than anyone. And I had a high score in Tetris, Heather, a high score!”\n\nHeather melodramatically exhales. “Here we go.”\n\n“So, uh, how do we get the author to put us back?” Asks Ozzie.\n\nHeather shrugs. “Beats me. Author, do you have, like, a therapist or something? Or like, friends?”\n\n“Yeah”, the disembodied voice says, “but I’m stuck on a writing project and I feel ashamed, and the only thing that makes me feel better temporarily is to write something, even if it’s silly, and all I can write is this, right now.”\n\nHeather sighs and starts playing with her tail in her fingers.\n\nSuddenly, a pink and black electric guitar materialises in mid air, and she catches it. A big black boxy amp materialises beside her too, plugged into the guitar with a cable.\n\nHeather’s eyes immediately light up, her ears perking up too. “Woah! Sweet! That’s sick! Look at it, Dad!”\n\nOzzie raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, I think the guitars were cooler back in my day. This one looks kind of… girly.”\n\n“Hah~” Heather scoffs with a gentle grin. “You saying girly isn’t cool?”\n\n“Oh, uh… no no, I’m very progressive!”\n\nHeather chuckles, and strums a big, loud power chord on the guitar, causing the air in the room to visibly ripple, and leaving the two possums’ fur standing on end.\n\nAfter a moment’s pause, Heather plays a wild solo on the guitar, so wild that smoke and fire rises from the strings, though it doesn’t harm her at all. Ozzie watches on shellshocked as his daughter plays a solo so sick that it rips through the fabric of time and space, opening a tear in the floor and revealing endless stars and galaxies beneath. \n\nWhen she finishes the solo, Heather slides along the ground on her knees, guitar in one hand, making the devil horns symbol with her other.\n\nOzzie’s tail wags a little, and he smirks. “That’s my girl.”\n\nThe other side of the portal suddenly changes from the stars and galaxies, to a grassy hill where their friends RJ, Verne and Hammy are waiting.\n\n“See you two around”, the author’s voice says.\n\n“Trap me in there again and I’ll bite your ankle.” Heather retorts up at the ceiling, before taking Ozzie’s hand - guitar in the other - and jumping through the portal back to their normal world.\n\nHeather forgot that the cable was still plugged into the amp, and it makes an ear-curdling shriek of feedback as it unplugs, causing all the animals to cover their ears and cringe as the portal closes above them, gently fizzling out like a sparkler.\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Heather the opossum stands on her hind feet in a blank, white expanse. White floor, white ceiling, white walls so far off in the distance that they look like the sky. It’s completely empty and featureless.

Heather crosses her arms and looks up at the ceiling. “Really, author?”

The words ‘look, I’m tired, okay?’ appear, suspended in mid-air. They look like black paint strokes, but just floating in mid air.

Heather walks around the floating words in a calm circle. She tilts her head, and her ears flop over a little to one side.

“Lousy brushwork.” She says, looking back up at the ceiling with a smirk.

A paint can and a paint brush suddenly materialise in front of Heather, just slightly above the ground. They drop the floor with a loud crash, causing Heather’s fur to stand on end as she jumps away backwards.

“Ah! What the heck?”

Thin black paint spreads gradually in a puddle across the pristine white floor. The floor is suddenly tiled; it seems the author could be slightly more bothered.

Heather snorts and tries to shake the paint off of her hind paws, leaving little paw print shaped gaps behind in the paint.

She picks up the can by the handle, and examines the words on its blue label, which has suddenly materialised just now.

“Amateur. You didn’t even remember to mention the bucket has a label.” She says in a mellow tone, tail making a gentle wag.

“What’s it say, let’s see here?” asks Heather as she reads it out loud. “...You can use this to paint in mid air, like I did. Go wild.”

Heather grins with her toothy fangs. “Ooh, you’ll regret that.”

Immediately, she paints a stick figure with stink lines above him, and cartoony glasses and a moustache. She paints an arrow pointing towards him, and labels it ‘author’.

The words ‘Oh yeah?’ appear in blue beside the picture. With blue brush strokes, the unflattering image of a cartoony possum digging through a big trash can materialises, with an arrow pointing to it reading ‘Heather’.

Heather sticks her tongue out at the sky, before reaching into the painted trash can, and…

…

“Uh, author? What are you doing? Why can’t I move?” Heather asks, tail flicking with impatience as her arm stays halfway into the painting of the trash can.

“Right, sorry.” Says a soft and slightly pathetic disembodied male voice.

Heather’s arm becomes unstuck, and she pulls out a pair of sunglasses and a gold necklace with a dollar sign. She puts them on and strikes a smug pose.

“I was distracted by a text from my mum.” The voice says.

Heather snickers. “Imagine living in a universe where your god gets texts from his mum. What was it even about?”

“I don’t know, air conditioning or something. Anyway, your dad’s here now.”

Ozzie the opossum immediately shrieks the second he materialises in the white expanse. “Is this the afterlife? Have I gone to purgatory?”

Ozzie dramatically pretends to faint, hand over his forehead, a rose materialising in his mouth.

“Thank you author.” He says with a smirk as he examines the rose, before closing his eyes again.

“Ugh, Dad”, Heather says with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “Your not dead, our author’s just having a mental crisis or something.”

“He’s just like me for real, for real” says Ozzie.

Heather winces with disgust. “Never say that again, Dad.”

“Oh, you think you’re so cool, don’t you?” Ozzie says, snorting and crossing his arms, an embarrassed glow on his cheeks.

“Well let me tell you, when I was your age, I was the coolest in my class. I could faint better than anyone. And I had a high score in Tetris, Heather, a high score!”

Heather melodramatically exhales. “Here we go.”

“So, uh, how do we get the author to put us back?” Asks Ozzie.

Heather shrugs. “Beats me. Author, do you have, like, a therapist or something? Or like, friends?”

“Yeah”, the disembodied voice says, “but I’m stuck on a writing project and I feel ashamed, and the only thing that makes me feel better temporarily is to write something, even if it’s silly, and all I can write is this, right now.”

Heather sighs and starts playing with her tail in her fingers.

Suddenly, a pink and black electric guitar materialises in mid air, and she catches it. A big black boxy amp materialises beside her too, plugged into the guitar with a cable.

Heather’s eyes immediately light up, her ears perking up too. “Woah! Sweet! That’s sick! Look at it, Dad!”

Ozzie raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, I think the guitars were cooler back in my day. This one looks kind of… girly.”

“Hah~” Heather scoffs with a gentle grin. “You saying girly isn’t cool?”

“Oh, uh… no no, I’m very progressive!”

Heather chuckles, and strums a big, loud power chord on the guitar, causing the air in the room to visibly ripple, and leaving the two possums’ fur standing on end.

After a moment’s pause, Heather plays a wild solo on the guitar, so wild that smoke and fire rises from the strings, though it doesn’t harm her at all. Ozzie watches on shellshocked as his daughter plays a solo so sick that it rips through the fabric of time and space, opening a tear in the floor and revealing endless stars and galaxies beneath.

When she finishes the solo, Heather slides along the ground on her knees, guitar in one hand, making the devil horns symbol with her other.

Ozzie’s tail wags a little, and he smirks. “That’s my girl.”

The other side of the portal suddenly changes from the stars and galaxies, to a grassy hill where their friends RJ, Verne and Hammy are waiting.

“See you two around”, the author’s voice says.

“Trap me in there again and I’ll bite your ankle.” Heather retorts up at the ceiling, before taking Ozzie’s hand - guitar in the other - and jumping through the portal back to their normal world.

Heather forgot that the cable was still plugged into the amp, and it makes an ear-curdling shriek of feedback as it unplugs, causing all the animals to cover their ears and cringe as the portal closes above them, gently fizzling out like a sparkler.
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