"So then what happens?"

"Then the hero kills his captors and triumphantly rides off into the sunset." Ash J. Williams, former S-Mart employee, former mental patient and current freelance writer put his hands--er, hand--behind his head and propped his feet up on the editor's desk.

The woman behind the desk sat back and looked at him skeptically, "That's a little bit predictable an ending, don't you think?"

"It's still got all the earmarks of a surefire hit series...and loads of twists and turns along the way." He pointed his index finger at her, "Really, how many heroes get to have one real hand while losing the other and replacing it with a mechanical one?"

"Luke Skywalker," she said without missing a beat.

"Ok, I'll give you that one, but he didn't have a chainsaw."

"Right…he had a light saber."

"Not attached to a bloody stump, he didn't." Ash nodded sagely, "This is gonna be a hit, I can feel it in my bones."

"Well, if you can actually write the thing, I'll see what we can do about publishing it." The editor shifted a few of the papers on her desk aside, "If nothing else, we'll have the teenage boy demographic by the ears."

Ash leaned forward, "How much bread are we talkin' about here?"

"I don't know for certain…you have to understand, Mister Williams, you haven't even put pen to paper yet. Hell, you don't even have a title yet."

"Sure I do," he snapped, "'King Ash The Great'. We covered that already."

"Well 'King Ash The Great', that title won't sell. That much I can tell you." She picked up one of the contracts in front of her and passed it and a pen over to the man across from her, "You've gotta call it something catchy. Something memorable."

Ash gave the contract a quick perusal before he scrawled his signature on the dotted line at the bottom, "I'll come up with something."

"I'll expect the first chapter of this magnum opus by the first of next month, Mister Williams." The contract was folded and slipped inside a desk drawer for safe keeping before the editor got up to shake Ash's hand, "And you'd better have a title by then."

Ash nodded, "Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. I'll have something really unforgettable by then."

"Good. I trust you can find your way out?"

Ash sneered at the derogatory comment, "I'm missin' a hand, not a hemisphere of my brain."

"Nice come back. Keep that wit sharp, Mister Williams…you're going to need it in the publishing world."

But the door had already been slammed behind him, leaving the editor alone.

"Why do I always get the crackpots?" the woman behind the desk asked the empty room before reaching for her coffee cup and taking a sip.

The door to her office sprang open suddenly and Ash poked his head back inside, "Hey, I got the title."

"Do tell."

"I'll call it 'Evil Dead'."


A/N: Come on...you had to have seen this coming.

Oh, you didn't?

I guess I am the queen of misdirection, aren't I? Even though I dropped hints left and right…

Besides, I couldn't very well pander to the expected ending where Ash just wins...that would be the same as every other ED story ever written. How dull.

Blame this turn of events on the fact that I don't believe in the fourth wall and have no problem mixing fantasy and reality until they're indistinguishable from one another. Is the Ash in this story an actual hero who lived the tale he's trying to sell, or is he just a writer with an overactive imagination? I leave the interpretation up to you.

Final notes: I love playing word games and I tend to do so with the names of my characters. Mira Masi and Perre Tattorb, for example...I'm ashamed of all you ED fans who didn't realize that those two names are anagrams of Sam Raimi and Robert Tapert. As for Ognom…that's Mongo spelled backwards, because it's just not one of my stories without a Mel Brooks reference.