“One time the Mounties were playing hockey and one broke a bone and we were like, ‘Glad you’re not American, eh?’”

“And a rather terrible stereotype…” Samuel’s mind raced. He’d known Thaddeus for years. “a useless anecdote… Several accents in the space of a few lines. Oh, no… he’s—the author—he’s a hack—and he’s editing…”

Samuel felt the tomb falling down around him. The ancient stone and inscription melted into an alien planet with bright purple walls and a set of shimmering characters projected in a beam of light. Samuel’s lungs burned, and he struggled for breath until his archeology clothes turned into a spacesuit. Samuel knew Thaddeus or rather “Thad” had tripped as before but this time over the alien device that the beam of light now emanated from. 

Years of ancient languages and archeological study blinked out of Sam’s mind, replaced by Star Academy and cadet pranks. “He’s editing my backstory,” Sam thought. The image of his lawyer wife, Denise, and their two adopted chidlren melted into a young, blonde woman, Becky, whom he’d just met but fallen madly in love with. She was beautiful, coquettish, and well endowed. That was the extent of ‘Becky,’ a cardboard cutout of a real woman.

Sam looked over at Thad. His glasses and bookish looks had been consumed by rippling muscles and a chiseled jaw. The academic intelligence in his eyes dulled to a fool’s sheen.

“This author sucks,” Sam said, “What a sellout!” 

And then Sam disappeared. 

Captain Thad Righteous, Commander of the Intergalactic Star Brigade stood triumphantly in front of a pile of sparkling jewels. Becky swooned at his side. 

“Oh, Thad!” she gushed. “I can’t believe you’ve beaten all of your foes and found the lost treasure of Arbenshoobenstuben! You’re my hero!”

“All in a day’s work for Captain,” he paused for dramatic effect, “Thad Righteous!”