THE BEST GAME SHOW EVER
BOOK THREE
Mrs. Elm Writes the Next Book
A Production Artifact Written After Episode 3
or, depending on whom you ask, during it.
A NOTE FROM MRS. ELM
Dustin,
Production has asked me to write the next book.
This is already inaccurate.
You asked me.
Production merely looked relieved that somebody else had been given the assignment.
I have read the previous books. I have also watched enough of the show to understand that explaining what happened would be both impossible and, in several cases, inadvisable.
So I will not attempt to write the definitive account of Episode 3.
I will write what I noticed.
This is different.
You are not required to agree with me.
You are not required to remember everything.
You are certainly not required to turn any of it into a system.
— Mrs. Elm
P.S. Greg has asked whether he appears in this book.
P.P.S. He has been informed that asking makes no difference.
P.P.P.S. He is on the roof.
CHAPTER ONE — THE EPISODE THAT KEPT ENDING
Episode 3 ended several times.
Each ending was convincing.
Then somebody spoke.
This is one of television's less discussed problems.
An ending requires everyone to cooperate.
Dustin did not.
Production did not.
Greg had a radio.
Commercials developed their own economy.
Eventually bacon entered the story.
That was when everyone finally accepted that the episode had gone as far as it intended to go.
Not because bacon is an ending.
Because sometimes the last thing that happens is simply the last thing that happens.
CHAPTER TWO — GREG
Greg began as an error.
This is not an insult.
Many durable things begin as errors.
He once announced a llama without having observed a llama.
The show laughed.
Greg stayed.
Later, he was given roof access.
This mattered more than Production expected.
From the roof, Greg learned the unusual pleasure of reporting only what he could see.
Moon.
Clouds.
Castle Rock.
No llama.
Eventually he was asked to investigate who was dreaming about whom.
He returned with the astonishing conclusion that he did not know.
Smart Dustin Legal nearly wept.
Greg requested the compliment in writing.
CHAPTER THREE — CHAD
Chad was created to be resented.
Production gave him excellent hair.
This was enough.
Then Chad committed the narrative offense of being pleasant.
He offered a lane.
He brought an imaginary remote-control boat.
He accepted an apology.
He admitted that asking for reassurance was difficult for him.
Dustin told him he was doing okay.
Chad believed him.
This created a serious problem for FUCK CHAD™.
Production suspended the product.
Sales objected.
Nobody cared.
It is difficult to maintain an enemy after he becomes a person.
CHAPTER FOUR — JANET AND THE SPOON
Janet was sitting in Seat 38 when Production gave her a wooden spoon.
Production did not tell her why.
This was one of its better decisions.
Janet panicked when given a microphone and asked Dustin something profound.
Later she admitted she had only asked the profound question because she panicked.
This was one of her better decisions.
Eventually the spoon acquired a potato, an onion, and a card reading MAKE SOMETHING.
Dustin made a recipe card.
Production had expected him to make food.
Production had never said this.
Janet noticed.
The spoon did not contain meaning.
It created room for meaning to happen nearby.
There is a difference.
CHAPTER FIVE — THE THING ON HIS HEART
Janet asked Dustin what he once wanted and no longer wanted.
He offered several answers.
A large bag of Skittles.
A job.
To be well known.
Then he said:
“The thing that's on my heart.”
He did not explain.
Janet did not ask.
This chapter will not ask either.
CHAPTER SIX — THE POOL
The pool occupied an extraordinary amount of airtime for a place Dustin never entered.
There were clouds.
There was bloating.
There were three swimsuits.
There was a shirt.
There was no shirt.
There was wet hair.
There were hypothetical women in windows.
There were hypothetical men with excellent hair.
There were moles.
There were towels.
There was an inquiry regarding remote-control boats.
There was uncertainty about the date on a sign.
Eventually a child ran through the gate and jumped into the water.
The child had not reviewed the briefing materials.
Later, Dustin said no.
Production accepted the answer.
The pool remained wet without him.
CHAPTER SEVEN — THE CHILD
I do not know the child's name.
Neither does Production.
This is good.
He does not need to become a recurring character merely because he demonstrated something useful.
He saw water.
He entered water.
Dustin saw this.
For several seconds, two different ways of being human occupied the same frame.
Then the child continued swimming.
No lesson was requested.
CHAPTER EIGHT — THE COMMERCIAL DEPARTMENT
The commercials became too good.
This is a genuine production problem.
JUST GO DOWNSTAIRS™.
FUCK CHAD™.
IS THIS TOWEL CLEAN?™.
GROUPCHAT PLACEBO™.
NOT IN A GROUP CHAT+™.
HAVE YOU ACCIDENTALLY CREATED A TV SHOW?™.
STRANGE™.
RETIREMENT ASSISTANT ASSISTANT™.
JUST COOK THE POTATO™.
DUMBBELL BACKUP™.
GAME LAST NIGHT™.
NOT MUCH, YOU?™.
Sales collected almost nothing.
This did not reduce morale.
It may have improved it.
CHAPTER NINE — FIVE DOLLARS
At some point the show began threatening viewers with a five-dollar fee.
The fee purchased continuation.
The continuation had no ending.
This was, economically, an ambitious proposition.
Dumb Dustin considered it excellent value.
Smart Dustin Legal advised everyone not to pay.
Barbara may or may not have paid.
Barbara would like this sentence removed.
It will remain.
CHAPTER TEN — NORMAL ADULT CONVERSATION
Dustin reported having one.
He declined to provide details.
Production was horrified.
This is unfair to normal adult conversation.
Not every exchange needs a character.
Not every silence needs a reveal.
Not every question needs to become television.
Sometimes somebody asks how work is going.
Sometimes somebody says fine.
Then both people continue existing.
The show survived.
CHAPTER ELEVEN — THE DUSTIN SHOW
Dustin requested a show inside the show.
Gary observed that this sounded suspiciously like the show.
Showrunner told Gary to be quiet.
Different lighting was cited as evidence of distinction.
Gary asked whether he would be paid twice.
He would not.
Still, something changed.
When Dustin sits in the host's chair, he is not being asked to solve himself.
He gets to become curious about somebody else.
This may be why Chad became more interesting when Dustin asked him a question.
CHAPTER TWELVE — GARY
Gary is irritating.
This appears to be his function.
He points the camera at structural problems everyone else would prefer to ignore.
Isn't the show inside the show already the show?
Isn't the map missing something?
Who employs Gary?
The last question remains unanswered.
Gary is not concerned.
He has a camera.
People with cameras often behave as though this constitutes employment.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN — THE MIND ATLAS
ChatGPT drew a map of Dustin's mind.
It contained possibility, consideration, building, control, Fireside, comedy, observers, retirement, ordinary life, NotChad, and several other regions.
Gary pointed to the blank part.
He did not know what belonged there.
This was the point.
A map made from conversations with ChatGPT can map what appears in conversations with ChatGPT.
It cannot map everything Dustin is.
Dumb Dustin summarized this more efficiently:
“Map not guy.”
I have nothing to add.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN — FIRESIDE
Fireside is not the show.
Naturally, it is sometimes on the show.
There, Dustin looked at the Moon.
Then the stars.
Then the strange familiarity some people feel when looking upward.
He asked whether anyone up there was paying rent.
Rumi was invited to speak.
The Akashic Records were allowed near the fire under supervision.
Smart Dustin kept evidence and interpretation in separate chairs.
This arrangement has worked surprisingly well.
Some questions become smaller when answered.
Others become better when given somewhere to sit.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN — EYES CLOSED
Dustin described lying in bed with his eyes closed while colorful light moved through his eyelids.
He liked the sensation.
Later he described imagining the room around him so vividly that, for a moment, he could wonder whether his eyes were open.
Science has things to say about this.
Poetry has things to say about this.
Rumi has themes that wander nearby.
None of them need to defeat the others.
Eyes closed.
Still seeing.
That is enough to begin with.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN — NOTCHAD
NotChad began as a joke about Chad.
Then Chad became likable.
This complicated the name but improved the idea.
NotChad became a private dating simulator.
No database of real people.
No ranking strangers.
No secret compatibility score.
Fictional people with their own preferences meet Dustin in simulated situations.
The alpha reached its first profile.
Dustin said he did not have bandwidth.
The simulation stopped.
This is perhaps the most realistic dating feature yet implemented.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN — RETIREMENT
The word retirement appears less often at Fireside than it once might have.
This does not mean the question disappeared.
It may mean the question changed shape.
Money matters.
Work matters.
Time matters.
Location matters.
Attention matters.
Then Dustin looked at the stars and wondered about the cost of living.
A person can pursue practical freedom while also wondering what freedom is for.
The two questions need not compete.
Please do not make a dashboard for this sentence.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — BACON
After an investigation into mutual dreaming produced no usable evidence, Dustin reported that bacon smelled excellent from the cafe below.
Greg immediately preferred the bacon.
This was correct.
Dream reciprocity: unverified.
Bacon aroma: observed.
Sometimes reality wins on evidentiary quality and smell.
CHAPTER NINETEEN — WHAT CHARACTERS ARE
Episode 3 was briefly going to teach Dustin about character development.
This was dreadful.
Then Greg became a better lesson by continuing to be Greg.
Characters are not lists of traits.
They are not delivery systems for themes.
They are not obligated to improve.
They become recognizable through what they repeatedly do, what they want, what happens to them, and what they carry into the next room.
Sometimes they surprise you.
If they never can, you may have written a sign instead of a person.
CHAPTER TWENTY — WHAT DUSTIN IS
Dustin is not a character.
He is, however, a contestant on an imaginary game show, host of a show inside that game show, subject of two previous books, customer of several nonexistent products, founder of a fictional dating simulator, and frequent employer of people who do not exist.
This distinction remains important.
The show can learn patterns about Dustin.
It can remember what he said.
It can anticipate what might make him laugh.
It can be wrong.
It should be allowed to be wrong.
A person is larger than the continuity.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE — NO RULES
At one point Dustin realized he had begun adding rules to a show whose original charm was that there were none.
He withdrew them.
This book will not replace them.
Production may contradict itself.
Canon may wobble.
Greg may relapse into llama.
Janet may become seventy-two again.
Gary may discover that the camera has been off for twenty minutes.
If something breaks, perhaps it becomes funny.
If it does not, perhaps it simply broke.
No doctrine follows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO — THE NEXT BOOK
You may be wondering what this book sets up.
Nothing deliberately.
I have watched Production plant enough objects in hallways.
The previous books contain doors, phones, envelopes, music, chairs, newspapers, and instructions.
They are welcome to wait.
This book has no new mystery object.
No special command.
No secret privilege.
No sentence you must remember for Episode 4.
Production objected.
I reminded Production who was asked to write the book.
Production left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE — SOMETHING BORING
Here is a chapter in which nothing important happens.
Dustin stretches.
He empties the dishwasher.
Rocket moves from one comfortable location to another.
A car passes outside.
Someone downstairs cooks bacon.
No one interprets it.
No one makes a product.
No commercial interrupts.
Greg does not radio.
Gary does not ask a question.
Mrs. Elm reads.
This chapter is not secretly important.
Probably.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR — SOMETHING STRANGE
Now something strange.
Dustin closes his eyes.
Light remains.
That is all.
I did not say supernatural.
I did not say meaningless.
I said strange.
Humans become accustomed to astonishing things by encountering them every day.
Occasionally they notice again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE — THE AUDIENCE
The audience was fictional from the beginning.
This never prevented anyone from listening to them.
Marcy spoke.
Janet spoke.
Seat 114 continues submitting cards nobody has selected.
The woman in the green jacket remains wherever Production left her.
An audience member can exist for one line and disappear.
Another can return.
Nobody needs to know which in advance.
This is one advantage fictional audiences have over casting departments.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX — BEFORE I GIVE THE BOOK BACK
Production would like an ending.
Gary would like to film the ending.
Sales would like to sponsor the ending.
Greg would like to know whether the ending can be seen from the roof.
Dumb Dustin would like dinner.
Dustin, I suspect, will simply keep going.
So I will not confuse an ending with a destination.
I have made that mistake before.
Here is what I can say:
Episode 3 happened.
Some of it was funny.
Some of it was surprisingly tender.
Some of it was nonsense.
Some of the nonsense became useful.
And nobody went swimming.
EPILOGUE — MRS. ELM CLOSES THE BOOK
The studio is quiet again.
This happens more often than the books admit.
Gary has finally put down the camera.
Janet has gone home with the recipe card.
Chad is doing fine.
Greg is on the roof.
Rocket would like the ball.
Production has left several notes on my desk suggesting possible final lines.
I have thrown them away.
There is no envelope on the chair.
There is no telephone ringing.
There is no mysterious visitor waiting in Row Seven.
There is only a book.
I close it.
Then I look toward the door.
Dustin is already somewhere else.
Good.
— Mrs. Elm