A Good Day to Die

The final issue of The Bottom Line came out yesterday, the last one with my name under "editor in chief" on the tombstone.

This past weekend, I got a phone call from Jared, one of our own choose-your-adventure style serial fiction writers (Q.U.E.S.T. - don't ask me what it stands for...) at TBL. I have made a couple of appearances in their story so far, and he was wondering how I should meet my end: Should they rush in to save me from pain and death or should I meet my end at the hands of their nemesis as they rush in to save me?

"Oh, I would much rather die in the last issue," I said.

"Sweet," said Jared. Now that I think about it, he sounded a bit too happy about my response.

So, long story short, I died a most painful death in the newspaper office yesterday. The final words en memoriam?

Jared shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's gone. Now I'll never know what he was talking about in those articles of his."

A fitting end, don't you think? Read more below the fold.

When they had arrived back on campus, happy that their sworn enemy was melted alive within a river of hubris, Alan and Jared raced to the office of The Bottom Line and rushed inside to see if the Chieftain was alive. Panting because they were horribly out of shape, they knew they were in time when they rounded the corner and saw him engaging someone in conversation.

"...and so you see, aardvarks are really important to every installment of The Voltage Gate," he finished up saying. Jeremy turned and smiled when he saw Alan and Jared. "You guys are back late. Find anything interesting since you left me this morning?"

"You have no idea...wait," Alan began. "What's she doing here?"

Jeremy turned to the person sitting with him. "You know, in all the excitement, I forgot to ask you your name."

"Fatal Attraction," she said. The associate of the late J.D. Power removed Posted Notrespassing's rapier from its cane sheath and ran the Chieftain through. The questers screamed, and Jeremy looked at her, bewildered. "But...why?"

"The readers didn't vote to save you," she whispered loudly, removing the sword from his body.

[...]

Jared rushed over to the fallen Chieftain. "We're out of healing potions! Run downstairs and grab a soda from the vending machine!"

Alan searched his pockets, careful to block the exit should Fatal make a run for it. "But I don't have a dollar!"

"Guys," Jeremy coughed weakly. "I tried to warn you...that around here...questing usually ends somewhat tra...gi...cally..."

His eyes rolled back in his head and he sputtered his last breath. Alan and Jared had lost him. Alan sneered at Fatal Attraction. "We'll kill you for this! He was the best editor this newspaper has ever had!"

Jared shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's gone. Now I'll never know what he was talking about in those articles of his."

Thanks guys. I'll miss ya.