Once upon a time, not so long ago, not so far away, lived a not so wonderful girl. This not so wonderful girl was not only not so wonderful, she was down right ordinary. Her skin was pale, her eyes were hazel, and her hair was an exceptionally dull shade of brown. Her intelligence was average, nothing to speak of, just like her.

Only her imagination separated her from the rest of the lemmings that attended her school. When the stupidity of those around her became too much for her to tolerate, she would simply imagine herself away. Her writing skill became exceptional due to her imaginative nature.

Her stories were clever, depicting grand adventures with creatures of the night,;her characters were interesting with depth and purpose. Her plot lines were exciting and never predictable. All of this changed though one rainy Saturday night in late November.

The girl, Meg, was sitting at her computer staring at the blank word document. In her hand she held a crinkled paper that read ‘fairy tale autobiography’. She glanced at the paper once more before tossing it to the ground. Her head fell against the computer screen.

"Why me," she thought gloomily as she eyed her growing pile of snapped pencils. "Never in my life have I fought with such writers block,"

She heard the jingling of her dogs tags and brought her head up. The pudgy black Pomeranian had just woken up and was groggily scratching at his collar. The little dog trotted over to the computer chair and jumped up on Meg’s lap.

"And just who invited you up here buddy?" she asked the brown eyed dog. He circled twice before flopping down again. Meg scratched behind his ear and shut down the computer. After setting her dog, KC down she wandered over to the floral patterned couch where she quickly fell asleep.

Meg awoke to the sound of a voice. This voice was different than any she had heard before, and yet there was a familiarity in it, like the voice of an old friend. She sat up on her elbows just listening. The voice was high pitched like a little boys voice, but there was something behind the child’s voice, something that revealed a much older soul.

Before she could search any further for the origin of the voice KC started pawing at her arm. To her great surprise the voice was coming from the dog!

"Oh good you’re up, you’re alive! I thought I’d have to go on the rug again!" the little black dogs tail wagged with excitement that matched his voice. Meg laughed and flopped back on the couch.

"I’m dreaming, why do I always have these weird dreams…and where’s Lorenzo?" she said to herself even though it appeared the dog was listening. Meg laughed and flopped back down on the couch.

"No! Don’t sleep again! For the love of all that’s holy including the underwear, I’ve never had to tinkle so bad in all my life!" the dog pleaded. Meg rolled over with a soft grunt.

"Yeah, yeah, and I’ve got writers block, we’ve all got problems," she muttered wanting to get to a better dream. There was a whimper from bellow the edge of the couch.

"I can help you with your writers block if you’ll do three things for me," KC implored. Meg sat up indulging in the stupidity of her own dream.

"And what would these two things be oh furry one?" she asked the fidgety dog.

"One, let me outside, two, scratch behind my ears again, and I’ve added a third, stop patronizing me, I’m your god puppy I deserve some respect," KC snipped.

"God puppy?" Meg asked between giggles.

"There you go again. Never mind just let me out or your going to be laughing while you clean up a particularly nasty mess," KC barked. Meg rose from the couch still giggling at the peculiar nature this dream was taking. She let the dog out and watched as he ran behind a group of shrubs to relieve himself before hurrying back to the warmth of the house. Meg was sitting on the edge of the couch flipping through the pages of her empty notebook, her new, unsnapped pencil, in hand.

"Feeling better my fuzzy fairy god puppy?" Meg asked in a very patronizing manor.

"Hey! I am no fairy! I’m just your god puppy," He snuffed. The black dog jumped into her lap knocking over her notebook.

"What’s wrong with you, can’t you see I’m trying to write?" she whined.

"You know as well as I, that you aren’t writing anything until you get over this block," KC said while circling her lap before flopping down again. "Start scratching and I’ll help you defeat you writers block,"

Meg grumbled but started scratching behind the dog’s ears anyway. A gold dust started appearing over his black fur. As soon as she touched it her surroundings melted away and she was lost in darkness.

"We have reached the land of Der, the home of the chronically blocked and the demons that keep them here," KC’s voice returned to her and yet the little dog was no where to be seen.

Her surroundings became brighter and she could make out the silhouette of dead, gnarled trees that twisted together in an impenetrable black forest of fairy tale grandeur. An owl hooted mournfully in the distance and everything seemed set for a climax in the story.

There was a rustling and snapping of twigs to the left that made Meg jump. She snapped off a creaking limb of a nearby tree and stood poised. Anything could be coming from those woods. It was better to be prepared with a weapon than act like those morons in the horror movies who called out a timid "Hello?" right before the killer came barreling out of the woods to slaughter them.

No, she would surprise them…him/her/it, it didn’t really matter, at this point she would bash just about anything in the head. Another creak and the crunching of dead leaves brought her attention to the right.

Two of them…maybe more; the air was alive with the sound of creaking branches and snapping twigs. Meg’s heart thundered in her chest with each passing second her anxiety grew.

There was a rustling behind her and Meg spun around to find…nothing but blackness. There was a tap on her shoulder and Meg let out a cry of surprise. She turned around slowly to face her supposed assailant. She found herself looking up into the face of a tall pale man. Her eyes met with his and she was lost in his entrancing gaze. The man took the broken tree branch out of Megs hand and tossed it behind his back.

"Good evening," he rumbled in a voice as smooth as velvet. "My name is Rick and I’ll be your demon tonight, how may I help you?"

"W-where’s KC?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Little black dog? About this tall, about that wide?" Rick asked describing KC perfectly.

"Yes! Then, you’ve seen him?" she asked hopefully.

"Nope, I just like to get your hopes up," the man cackled like a chimpanzee.

"I don’t think I like you very much Rick," Meg muttered. "But seeing as you’re the only one to ask, why am I here?"

"Why is anyone here? You’re in the land of Der where all writers go when they’re blocked!" Rick said before cackling again.

"Would you stop that! Your laughter is infectious," she yelled.

"If it’s infectious then why should I stop?" he asked.

"It’s infectious because it’s making me sick! Could you just tell me how I get out of Der?" she asked.

"All you have to do is get over your writers block my dear, but first you have to find it," he responded smoothly.

"What?" she asked puzzled once again.

The scene became brighter and a beam of light seemed to be illuminating the path in front of her. A yellow cobblestone road was spread before her on a winding path.

"Just follow the yellow brick road my dear and you’ll come across your writers block sooner or later,"

"Follow the yellow brick road? What am I, Dorothy? Look buddy, I’m just trying to find my little black dog, battle a witch of a writers block, escape from this oz like world and oh… I see…Follow the yellow brick road you say?" she asked with a grin. The black forest hugged the road on either side and became even more dark and looming as Meg started walking down it alone. Rick started following her, but was too far away to be a comfort. He was the stalker awaiting his prey, and his footsteps echoed against the yellow cobblestone.

The hadn’t walked long when they reached a barricade made of stone. Meg couldn’t see over this wall, and by no means could she ever climb it. It had to be a good 20 feet high and spanned far into the forest that seemed to close in around her as she stopped walking. Rick’s steps continued until he was standing next to her again.

"Isn’t she a beauty? One of the finest writers blocks I’ve ever made," he commented sarcastically.

"How do I get over it?" she asked urgently.

"I’m not the writer, you think of a way to get over it," Rick said with a widening grin as he slumped down beside the wall. Meg gave a great sigh before flopping down beside him, her hopes of getting home were quickly dissolving.

"Oh KC, where are you when I need you?" she whimpered as she made a fist and hit it against the wall.

"I’m…right…here!" the child’s voice was back and soon the body of the black dog accompanied the voice. Meg smiled widely as she saw the small dog stumble out of the black forest.

"Where were you!" she asked excitedly.

"You try to gnaw your way through three gunny sacks double knotted by a demon, then we’ll talk about punctuality," KC huffed in between his panting.

"Can you tell me how we climb over my writers block?" Meg asked the now sitting dog.

"First of all this is not an actual wall, this is a clever metaphor giving life to a physical problem so that you can better deal with the real issue that is at the root of your writers block. Second, you’re not trying to get rid of your writers block you have to get rid of the demon who built it, IE Rick," KC said over the laughter that had begun pouring from Rick.

"Alright then how do I kill Rick?" Meg asked ignoring the chimp like laughter of her demon. A high pitched ringing filled their ears and Rick pulled up his sleeve to reveal a gold watch with silver hands.

"As much fun as this has been kids I’ve got bigger fish to fry. I have a six o’clock with Ms. Rowling followed by a 7:30 with Ms. Rice. What can I say the ladies love me," Rick said sounding more and more like a salesman every second. Before Meg or KC could do anything the demon walked right through the wall.

"What now?" Meg pleaded with the Pomeranian.

"Follow him!" he squealed. Meg took off after him, but returned shortly after her chase began to pick up the pudgy dog. They caught up with Rick just as he was departing over a bridge marked with a sign that read ‘Eureka’. On the other side there was a beautiful city full of clean buildings and organized streets. A lovely park was nestled in the center of the grouping of buildings.

"Oh no…here’s trouble," KC muttered.

"What? What’s Eureka?" Meg asked feeling very confused.

"Eureka is where all the wonderful writers dwell, free of demons and un-plagued by dead lines," KC explained.

"So what’s the problem?"

"Don’t you think there might be some sever consequences to having a writers block demon in a land that has never seen a demon?"

"Oh…I guess that would be a problem huh,"

"That is an understatement," KC said solemnly as black smoke began to rise from the park that had sat so contently in the heart of this seemingly perfect metropolis.

Meg and the small dog ran across the bridge and followed the trails of smoke that was becoming a black fog that nestled itself near the ground. After a chase that seemed to go on forever they finally found Rick. He was huddled over J.K Rowling’s manuscript for Harry Potter and the order of the Phoenix. In his hand he held a bottle of white out ready to take out the entire last chapter.

"Stop…right…there!" Meg panted as she dropped the black dog to the ground.

"Rick, you moron! Haven’t we warned you enough about entering Eureka? About the endless consequences there could be? If you’ve done enough damage no one will be able to write a decent novel ever again!" KC barked boldly for such a small dog.

"If they won’t read my work, they won’t read anyone’s work!" Rick threatened as he held the bottle menacingly close to the paper.

"Stop right there! I’m the only one who can destroy you and I’m the only one who will!" Meg screamed as she yanked the bottle of white out from his hands. She twisted off the cap and splashed the demon with the liquid paper. Rick gave an animalistic scream as his skin bubbled as if it were touched by acid.

"I’M MELTING, MELTING! Ah what a world, what a world!" the demon gurgled before completely dissolving into a puddle of gray white out on the floor.

"Wow…I honestly did not see that coming," KC remarked as he sniffed the puddle.

"Neither did I," Meg remarked as she read the label on the white out bottle. "Wipes out your worst mistakes" Meg read aloud. "Well Rick, like all demons was a mistake of creation," she muttered as she tossed the bottle behind her.

"I don’t know about you Meg, but I’m ready for my happy ever after. You destroyed your writers block and the demon who controlled it, and you have your idea for your fairy tale autobiography. I’d say it’s time to go home," KC said as his tail wagged happily.

"I couldn’t agree more," Meg said as she put on her best Mentos commercial smile. She picked up KC and closed her eyes. Meg clicked her heels together and said happily "There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home," and when she opened her eyes… she was still standing beside the gray puddle holding KC in the land of Eureka.

"What do you think you’re doing?" KC asked her looking puzzled as ever.

"I thought…the yellow brick road…the melting…the-"

"You know what? No, I don’t want to know. Second door on the left down the hall will take you back to your couch," KC said before jumping out of her arms. "I’ve got errands to run," he said casually as he trotted over to the door. "weirdo," he muttered as he cast one last look over his shoulder.

The still puzzled Meg walked down the hall and through the door and sure enough she landed with a soft thud on her sofa.

Meg went on to write a fantastic fairy tale from her adventures in Der and Eureka which received an obscenely high grade. (we’re talking A+++++++++ baby) From that day on she never had another bout with writers block, and also from that day on she never took her God puppy for granted again. It goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway. THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

THE END