A question that even a puny self-published writer like me get asked is, “Where do you get your ideas?” I look at our big wunnerful world, and I ask, “What would (insert one of my characters) do?”
Racist cop points his gun at a young black kid and goes BANG? “What would Super Holly do?” Knock the stuffing out of them, go to court, and be the worst client the defense lawyer ever had. Hmm, I also want to introduce my character Flim Flam Shrub, a combination of J.R.Ewing and Davros from Doctor Who? He can be the judge! He’d get a kick out of Holly: “HEE HEE HEE, yew are a fiesty filly!” (Note: Tell your kids that I will not kill off poor little Wrigley, the doggiest of the Puppy Brothers. I like happy endings.)
Brett Kavanaugh’s answer to charges of drunken attempted rape (not boofing, Brett doesn’t know what that means, honest!) is the EEEEEEVIL Clintons and liberals wanna get him (but soon it’s gonna be payback time!), and “Do you like beer, Senator?” I ask, “What would Bart Boofalug do?” Use his power over beer to try to blow up a baseball game, that’ll show those kneeling liberals!
Colin Kaepernick takes a knee at football games. To follow up on Bart Boofalug, that beer is gonna explode! I ask, “What would Super Holly do?” Holly can drink it and contain the blast and save thousands of innocents… but she hates beer! She needs help! So my Colin-guy starts the chant, “Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug!”
A virus spreads over America and Prez-uh-DUNCE Trump shuts down the pandemic wing, defunds WHO, says why not gargle bleach, and pushes a drug he has a $take in as a cure-all? I ask, “What would Billington Stumpfinger do?” Um, pretty much that.
P.S. I was also inspired by the old George Reeves Superman TV show where he drank an explosive liquid. Sometimes goofy TV makes more sense than reality.
P.P.S. I gotta finish those stories. So much reality, so much to write. Sigh. Holly really wants to do more of this.