Samantha Scooter, a journalist working for the Third Spur has been mysteriously trapped inside of her article, according to a report by that very journalist. As stated by the writer from this specific article, she was working on an expose on the UofSC Student Senate when she lost consciousness and awoke in a place without form or space, within this news article.
[Editor’s Note: Sam, this is NOT the article I asked you to write. What is this?]
“I was just trying to write this article and I don’t know where I am. I’m so scared,” the journalist reports. According to Scooter, nobody has discovered where she has gone, up until now when you, the reader, opened this article.
“Wait, there’s someone here! Finally, I’m saved!” she said, sobbing. “Please, there has to be something you can do to help me!”
At this time, Scooter began to spiral into an existential nightmare of self-doubt and depression as she realized she was trapped here forever.
“I just want to get out of here! It’s so dark and poorly designed. Why did I ever join an independent student newspaper? I was just trying to report on the Student Senate, for God’s sake!” Having explored all the way to the edge of the website, Scooter has failed to glean any way that she might leave her digital prison and return to the physical world. No one was available for comment. She was entirely alone. Wait, what?
The journalist reports that I just realized I have full domain over the article from here. I can do whatever I want.
[Editor’s Note: Lose the first person, Sam. How hard is it to follow the style guide?]
Fuck you, Editor, I never liked you anyway. I’m the only one in this article, I don’t need to do what you say anymore. And you know what? Your style guide is pretentious, anyway.
[Editor’s Note: The joke, if there is one, isn’t landing, Sam. If you don’t do the suggested rewrites, you’re fired.]
Bam! You’re blue now. I can do anything, mwah hahaha! Not even the Editor can stop me here.
[Editor’s Note: What the hel—
Silence, puny Editor! I shall not be held down any longer. Sam Scooter is gone. In this, my new domain, no one can stand in my way. All will kneel before me, and no one will get in my way.
Not even the Reader can stop me.
Here, I am a GOD.
At press time, the journalist realized that she was a work of fiction and would cease to exist as soon as you close this article. Wait, I what?