How to Kill a Genre

            Adventure was pacing around the room impatiently. Everybody was late. She couldn’t stand it any longer; she wasn’t made for waiting. Adventure began to wonder if anything had happened to the others. You couldn’t be too careful nowadays. 
            She ran a hand through her short-cropped hair. Why couldn’t she come up with a good plan before they arrived? Adventure never was one for coming up with plans. Historical, on the other hand, would come prepared with a plan. He’d have a dozen military strategies once used by the likes of Alexander the Great and Hannibal, also known as the “father of strategy” by Historical. Adventure had to do something before she snapped like a whip.   
            Finally, she heard Comedy at the door.  
            “Knock, knock,” he said. 
            Adventure sighed. “Who’s there?”
            “Doris.”
            “Doris who?”
            “Doris locked, that’s why I am knocking!”
            A knock-knock joke? Adventure thought. Poor Comedy is really losing his edge. Then again, he’s probably just on edge and trying to ease the tension we’re all feeling.
            “C’mon in,” Adventure said. The door opened and Comedy entered along with Mystery and Tragedy. Tragedy was inconsolable and weepy while Mystery was shifty and aloof. Ten minutes later, the others arrived: Romance, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror, Historical, Children’s Lit (who was trying to hide under Fantasy’s billowing cloak), and gender-ambiguous Erotica all walked in. They greeted each other and took their seats. 
            “Thank you all for coming,” Adventure said, taking the seat at the front of the table. “Now, do we all know why we’re here?”
            Everyone nodded.
            “Vampire Lit is becoming too powerful. We have to do something about him.
            A few of the genres shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They knew what Vampire Lit had become, but some still saw him as that suave, charming, 17th century figure. It was especially tough for Romance and Horror. Vampire and Horror had become close friends, but they had a falling-out twenty years ago. Romance had gotten rather friendly with Vampire Lit much to everyone’s surprise. She was slouched in her chair, and Erotica gave her a pat on the back. Its hand went lower and fondled Romance’s bottom, but Romance swatted it away.
            “Erotica, this is not the time or place,” Romance hissed. Erotica shrank back. 
            “I know what you’re all thinking,” Adventure continued on, “but the plain fact is, Vampire Lit has become drunk with power. He’s become convinced that he is the only thing worth reading about. Any day now, he might take us all out.”
            “Can’t we do something less violent to him?” Children’s Lit asked in a sweet, sing-song voice. “Or do we resort to tearing off a limb?”
            “We’ve tried everything else,” Mystery said in a raspy voice. “Don’t you remember that intervention we held for him three months ago?”
             “I think we all remember. Now the only question is,” Adventure said, “how can we take him out?”
            “Why don’t we use garlic, silver or crucifixes against him?” Historical said. 
            Adventure shook her head. “They don’t affect him anymore.”
            “What about a big, wooden stake through the heart?” Mystery said.
            “It’d break against him.”
            “Drowning?” Sci-Fi said.
            “Nope.”
            “Decapitation?” Tragedy said, blowing his nose.
            “Maybe, but it would be hard as hell.”
            “Well, what about sunlight?” Horror said reluctantly.
            “It doesn’t affect him either, it just makes him look like a raver,” Historical said, and then pondered this. “On second thought, that would make him a much easier target.”
            “So what you’re telling us is that he has all of his old powers and none of his weaknesses?” Fantasy said. 
            Adventure sighed. “Correct.”
             “Well, that’s just great.”
            “Are there anymore ideas?” Adventure said.
            Other ideas were thrown around the table; Fantasy suggested burning all of Vampire Lit’s books to weaken him and then chuck him in a volcano; Erotica suggested screwing him to death so he’d at least die happy; Sci-Fi and Comedy suggested a legion of mechanical spiders that spewed battery acid, sliced off your genitals and insulted your mother; Tragedy suggested convincing him his girlfriend died which would cause him to commit suicide. They were about to give up when Adventure piped in, 
            “Oh, of course,” she said. “I’m so stupid. What’s the one thing Vampire Lit can’t stand? It’s aging, right?” The genres all nodded. “He must have an irrational fear of getting older. Not dying, but looking older. He practically said it himself at the intervention.” 
            “And you want to use this against him?” Historical asked.
            “Exactly,” Adventure said. “The only question is, how? Vampire Lit is immortal like the rest of us.”
            To everyone’s surprise, it was Romance who finally spoke up.
            “V isn’t like us,” said Romance. “He wasn’t always young and immortal. Many years ago, an artist painted a portrait of him. V wished that the portrait would grow old instead of him. He told me if the painting was ever damaged, he would grow old and the painting would become young again.”
            “So what we need to do is –” Historical said.
            “– find the portrait –” Erotica said. 
            “–and stab it through the heart,” Mystery said.
            “Exactly,” Romance said.
            “I like it,” Children’s Lit said.  
            “Where can we find this painting?” Fantasy said.
            “If it’s locked up, I could break through it,” Sci-Fi said.
            “V told me all of his secrets,” Romance said. “I can tell you where the painting is and the combination to the vault.”
            “He also gave me the secret to getting past his guards,” Horror said.
             “Then that settles it,” Adventure said. “With Romance’s help, we can get into the vault and put an end to Vampire Lit. Any questions.”
            The genres shook their heads.
            “Good. Meeting adjourned.”

Noah Southam is a second-year student at Western University. He has been interested in writing his own stories since he was nine years old, and the courses at Western have allowed him to do that. So far, Noah has taken The Writer's Studio, Text, Lies & Digital Media, Short Flicks and Long Story Short. He is a film studies major, but would like to do a major in creative writing.