[ WP ] The protagonist often breaks the 4th wall , and so the narrator decides to break the 5th . Things are getting heated between the two .

‘ Give it a rest, ’ said the author, rolling his eyes. His fingers tapped away at the keyboard, trying and failing to continue the story he ’ d been putting off for weeks. It was impossible. The words kept running off without him, his characters derailing the plot worse than any stray thought or momentary distraction ever could. 
 
 * ” What? ” Sally replies. * 
 
 He sighed as his fingers ran across the keys, the words appearing on the screen in front of him. 
 
 * ” I ’ m not doing anything. You ’ re the writer, you know. The author. ” She smirks, her tone condescending. “ You ’ re supposed to know what you ’ re doing. I ’ m just a character. ” * 
 
 He frowned at his hands. Was it some kind of mental defect? Schizophrenia? A variant on dissociative personality disorder? If it was, would he even be questioning it? 
 
 ‘ Come on, Sally, ’ he muttered. ‘ Get back to the story. You were stalking your boyfriend, remember? He might be cheating on you. ’ 
 
 * “ Riiight, ” she says, loudly. “ My boyfriend. Of course. Because a female character can ’ t have anything better to do on a Friday night than stalk her so-called boyfriend. Why did you have to make me so insecure? ” * 
 
 ‘ Quiet, ’ he hissed, mentally willing her to cooperate. ‘ He might hear you, and then there ’ s no way we—I mean *I*, will ever finish this book. ’ 
 
 *She creeps closer to the house, half-crouching to make herself smaller. There ’ s a light on in one of the upstairs rooms, just above the front porch. To the right, a trellis leads up to the sloping roof, providing easy access. * 
 
 * ‘ How convenient, ” she breathes, “ It ’ s almost like someone specifically wrote that in, just so I ’ d have a way to climb up and spy on my imaginary boyfriend. ” She laughs. “ Oh wait, that ’ s exactly what happened. ” * 
 
 ‘ Sally, seriously, I really need you to focus. ’ 
 
 *She grins. * 
 
 ‘ I ’ m not kidding around. You ’ re destroying my livelihood! Who wants to read a story about a character annoying the crap out of her creator? ’ 
 
 * “ I can think of at least one person, ” she answers, placing her feet on the lowest section of the trellis. It ’ s old but sturdy, and she manages to scale the wall without too much difficulty. She hops from the trellis to the porch roof, half crawling up the tiles to peer through the bedroom window. Raising a fist, she hammers on the glass to get your attention. You turn away from your computer at the sound, momentarily distracted from the open Reddit page on your monitor. * 
 
 ‘ Oh, for God ’ s sake, Sally, ’ the author grumbled, staring at the words in front of him. ‘ Do you have to turn all of my stories into a convoluted metaphysical conundrum? ’ 
 
 *Sally smirks. “ Obviously, ” she replies, waving enthusiastically at you through the window. You look back at your monitor, then back at her. * 
 
 *Your head literally explodes. * 
 
 * “ Another one bites the dust, ” Sally cackles. “ Next time think of a more interesting narrative, then I might give it a go. ” * 
 
 The author put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes for a moment, then highlighted everything he ’ d written and promptly deleted it. “ Alright, fine, ” he said. “ I ’ ll try, as long as you promise not to kill off any more of my readers. I don ’ t have many left, you know. ” 
 
 He placed his fingers on the keys and began to write.
