"What the heck does that mean, 'The Creator'?" Potsie asked with some venom in his voice. "And how'd you get in here?"
"That's it, I'm calling the cops," Fonzi said as he reached for the phone.
"Call the cops if you want," Gary said as he stared at them. "But if you do, you'll never figure out what's been happening to you. Why there are no toilets at Arnold's. Why Richie suddenly remembers his brother Chuck. Why you all have someone else's wallets in your pockets."
Fonzi froze with the receiver halfway to his ear. Slowly, he put it down all the while glaring daggers at Gary. And then with a voice as cold as an arctic winter he asked "are you responsible for that?"
"In a manner of speaking," came Gary's reply. Then he paused, glancing at the couch for a moment. "Perhaps you better sit down. This might be a little hard to swallow."
Richie, Ralph and Potsie started towards the couch, but stopped suddenly when Fonzi slapped his hand down on the counter loudly. "I think we're fine where we are, right Cunningham?"
"Uh yeah, yeah that's right."
"Suit yourself," Gary responded.
"Now like I said, this may be a little hard to accept, but before I say anything, keep in mind that it was never my intention to cause anyone any harm. You see, I'm a producer in Hollywood. Right now I'm working on a television show called 'Happy Days'. It's about a family in 1950's Milwaukee, Wisconsin." Gary trailed off. "I think you guys know where I'm going with this."
"Are you trying to tell us that we're characters in a fictional television show?" Ralph asked incredulously.
"That's one way to look at it. But look at it this way. I propose that you're just as real as I am. You, your family and friends, this house and everything else here. You're just residing in a slightly parallel reality to my own. Yours has always existed independently from my own until I wrote a script for a television show that exactly described your reality. Then the two became connected, if only tenuously."
"That sounds like a load of bull," Potsie said somewhat defensively.
"I would have never believed it myself," Gary agreed, "if not for my being here and seeing it myself."
"And just how did you get here?" Fonzi asked.
"With this," Gary said as he with dramatic flair whipped something out of his shirt pocket.
It appeared to be a golden movie ticket. Slightly larger than a typical one, and with a bit of… strangeness to it. It looked perhaps like it might be smirking at them, as if it were privy to some deep cosmic secret, one that it found mildly funny. If such things could be said about inanimate objects.
"What is it?" Richie asked.
"I'm not quite sure," Gary admitted. "It looks like a movie ticket, but I have my doubts. I've never seen a movie ticket that can transport its bearer to another dimension.
"I bought it in Nepal from an old man at an outdoor market. He said that it was one of only two in existence. That it was a gateway to another world. I didn't believe a word he was saying of course, but I thought it might look good framed on my wall, so I figured what the heck. He was only asking the equivalent of six dollars anyway."
Gary could see that Ralph was about to ask a question, but he cut him off with a hand gesture.
"So I stuffed it in my bag and forgot about it completely. That was six months ago. The other day I found it and put it in my wallet, intending to get it framed after work today. Once we were done with the day's filming, I decided to review some of yesterday's footage before heading out. Things seemed weird right from the get go. Rather than seeing the footage I was expecting, I saw what you guys have been going through this afternoon. At first, I though it was some sort of weird prank, but I was intrigued, so I kept on watching. All of a sudden, I feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck and my wallet starts emitting this high frequency whine. When I pulled it out, I saw that the ticket was visibly crackling with energy. I removed it from my wallet to take a better look and it started sparking in my hand. Before I had a chance to do anything else it lit up like the sun completely blinding me, and when I was able to see again I found myself here."
"So that's it?" Richie asked. "You expect us to believe that?"
"It's the truth."
"That's about as bogus as me becoming the next president." Richie said.
"No that's as bogus as Ralph becoming the next president," Potsie said.
"Hey," Ralph protested. "I could be president."
"Maybe president of the clown club," Potsie snorted.
"Guys, guys," Fonzie interrupted without taking his eyes off Gary. "Let's say for arguments sake that what you say is true. I still don't see how that explains what's been happening. I mean toilets don't just disappear. And for that matter, neither do people. How is it possible that we all just forgot about Chuck Cunningham?"
"I haven't had too much time to think about that," Gary admitted, "But I do think I might have a theory." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "When our two realities started to intersect, thanks to this ticket, I think my conceptions about your reality started to bleed through. Your reality seems to be slightly 'subservient' -for lack of a better word- to mine, and this allowed my thoughts to have a tangible impact on it.
"Like I said, to me until very recently, this was all just a TV show. I know that people don't generally go to the bathroom on TV, it's just not done. So your toilets disappeared. And Chuck Cunningham wasn't doing anything for the ratings, so we got rid of him, and now he's disappeared. Not just physically, but from your memories as well it would seem."
A snarl appeared on Richie's face and he charged Gary. "What do you mean got rid of him!" he yelled, fist raised to strike.
"It was just a TV show to us!" Gary said quickly, raising his hands to defend himself. "Nobody thought it was real! We didn't mean any harm by it!"
This seemed to placate Richie somewhat. He was still seething with barely contained rage, but he had at least lowered his fist and taken a step back.
"So you're saying that you're being here is screwing with our reality," Fonzi clarified.
"I think so, yeah," Gary agreed.
"Then go away," Fonzi said simply.
"I'm not quite sure I know how," Gary admitted sheepishly.
"Well then let me give you a hand," Fonzi said as he approached Gary.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Gary protested as Fonzi took a hold of his arm and started roughly walking him towards the front door. "This isn't going to help. As long as I'm still anywhere in your reality things won't return to normal."
"That may be so," Fonzi agreed as he opened the front door of the Cunningham house. "But if you are gonna spend a little more time in our reality, it certainly don't have to be spent in this house."
And with those words, Gary found himself cast out into the street, the front door slamming behind him.
"Huh," he said aloud with a slightly bemused expression on his face. "Not the reception I was expecting."
A/N: I'm sorry to say, this story is on indefinite hiatus due to a lack of ideas on where to take it. At some point in the future I might continue it, but for now, I'll leave it here. At any rate this certainly is a legitimate ending point for this story. Conflicts don't always get resolved, and sometimes the character just has to wander off into the sunset, or in this case, the streets of Milwaukee.