‘Like I said’ began Quinton.
‘I begun’ added Quinton, swiftly and irately ‘how have I just begun if I said, “like I said”, that shows history and past, can we get this right please?’
‘It’s still where you began in this specific story, but you can actually begin with history if you didn’t know, and by the way history and past are basically the same thing, so if you are going to question me at least don’t be redundant! So why don’t you do your fucking job and I’ll do my fucking job, okay?’ Replied the frustrated narrator.
‘Did you just insert yourself into my story?’ Questioned Quinton.
‘Don’t be like that you fucking prick, I’m the narrator, I control this story, and I control you, so get back to it you fucking asshole’ threatened the frustrated narrator.
‘Ah yeah, control this’ yelled Quinton. Then he shot himself in the head.
‘No no no, aggghhh, what the fuck, my god, no that’s the second story in a row I have narrated where the protagonist has just offed himself and left me with nothing to narrate. Fuck!’ said the frustrated narrator.
‘Oh well, at least I narrated the shit out of my own bit, named myself perfectly too’ added the Frustrated Narrator.
‘He’d just become the narcissistic narrator’ said the narcissistic narrator. ‘Oh what the fuck?’ he added, frustratingly.
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