The
warehouse was bursting at the seams with all the plot devices any character
could ever want; this Protagonist, however, had strict instructions to retrieve
only one.
“Hi
there!” The Caretaker emerged from a
random aisle and vigorously shook the Protagonist’s hand. “Welcome to the World of Fiction’s
Supply-O-Rama and Trade Emporium, my friend!”
“Thank
you.” The newly-created Protagonist was
uncertain how to feel from moment-to-moment, or even what feelings exactly were. “The Author sent me here; said it was vitally
important before I embark on The Plot – I mean, my Hero’s Journey.”
“Yes
indeedy!” The smile never lessened in
intensity. “We were contacted ahead of
your visit, and I have it all ready for you!”
The Caretaker led the Protagonist to a prominently positioned card
table, upon which lay an important-looking wooden crate with “PRICELESS”
stamped on all sides. “Go ahead – open
it up!”
The
Protagonist grabbed a crowbar helpfully left on the table and levered open the
crate’s top lid; after digging through the packing material, the contents were
revealed.
The
Protagonist raised an eyebrow at the Caretaker: “A suit of armor?”
“Yeppers! It’s the One-Size-Fits-All Plot Armor!”
“But...
how can I… what does it do?”
The
Caretaker raised a finger: “The question you should be asking is, ‘What doesn’t
it do?’”
They
stood expectantly staring at each for a few moments before the Caretaker said,
“That’s your cue to ask the question.”
“Oh,
sorry, I thought it was rhetorical.”
They blinked at each other some more.
“OK, what doesn’t it do?”
“Nothing!”
“What?” The Protagonist’s new brain could not handle
multiple double negatives at this stage of its development.
The
Caretaker reached into the crate and pulled out the armor’s breastplate to
demonstrate. “Plot Armor is that most
wonderful of all inventions, in that it makes one truly immortal. You can face literally all the slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune and still be around to celebrate the last page at ‘The
End.’ An entire building can be dropped
on your head, and it’ll turn out to either have missed you unbeknownst to the
narrator or you’ll be resurrected in the sequel, all thanks to this baby.” The Caretaker patted the plate lovingly.
“Really?” The Protagonist grabbed a gauntlet. “An entire building, you say?”
“Absolutely! It also can be an entire army, and you just
standing there facing them all by your lonesome; or a rogue sniper who has you
perfectly in their crosshairs; or a previously incurable disease; even old age,
that sneaky foe.”
“Wow.” The Protagonist grabbed the breastplate from
the Caretaker for a closer look. “And
all I have to do is wear this clunky thing all the time?”
The
Caretaker chuckled. “Yes, but don’t
worry: no one can see it once it’s on.
However, all the world will know it’s there.”
“How?”
“Because
you will never die, even when virtually anyone else in that same situation
would have, and you ultimately succeed in every single thing you do. Silly,” the Caretaker added, playfully
punching the Protagonist’s shoulder.
“The Author put a rush on this – even requested extra plating – so I
think you’re in for one doozy of a ride!
Want to try it on?”
The
Protagonist put the Armor back into the crate and placed the latter onto a
helpfully nearby hand truck: “I think I’m good for now, thanks. I probably should go… prep for my adventure,
or something.”
“All
righty!” The Caretaker waved as the Protagonist
wheeled the crate towards the exit.
“Remember: wear your Plot Armor at all times, and NEVER EVER TAKE IT
OFF, for maximum efficacy!”
Boy, the Protagonist thought, what have I gotten myself into if I need Plot
Armor this much? Will there be a Plot
War?
