Magic Notebook The Editor

Magic Notebook - The Editor

or

About A Notebook That Imposes Magical Rules, But It Keeps Making Them Sexy

(The Editor)

By the time Dan got back to his apartment and looked inside The The Nootbook, the only visible words were the title and the inscription on the first page. He flipped through the entire thing, but could find no trace of the words he himself had written. The last page was also empty, and if not for the presence of the book itself he would have assumed he dreamed the entire thing.

He spent the next few days doing his best to think through the implications of what he had found, and what had occurred. When he revisited

Bakes and Beans

the following day, he didn't notice anything amiss. He got his coffee and almond croissant to go, and left without noticing anything unusual.

When he returned the morning after that, Kayla had asked him to top her, and he spent a highly enjoyable twenty minutes with the barista naked from the waist down, bent over one of the tables. No matter how hard he fucked her, no one else in the cafe paid him any more attention than any of the other customers going about their business. When he finished deep inside her, she slid off of his dick, pulled her pants gingerly up over a pale behind reddened from a handful of hard slaps he'd given, and thanked him. Then she walked back over behind the counter and simply... went back to work.

The rule he had accidentally imposed was still obviously in effect, despite no longer being visible anywhere in the book. He thought about trying to write something countermanding it, but was hesitant to experiment with something so obviously sexually charged. If he accidentally doubled-down, there was a chance he'd wind up having the baristas all offering themselves up to each and every customer that came through or something equally ridiculous, so he decided to wait until he had a better understanding of how the nootbook worked before making any further changes there.

Besides, the staff didn't seem to mind at all. Dan wasn't sure if it was because of the rule imposed, but the customers were actually treating them better, and the mood in the whole cafe was just... lighter.

The evening of the third day after he found The The Nootbook, Dan decided to try a few carefully controlled tests, using the only subjects he was willing to experiment on: himself, and billionaires. Drawing out a pen, he flipped to the second page and focused very hard on ensuring there weren't any additional typos or words that snuck in. With only a slight tremble of nerves in his hand, he wrote:

Dan Taylor is in excellent physical condition and good health.

He stopped and checked after each word, making sure he didn't accidentally misspell it or switch out any words. Once satisfied, he set the pen down between the pages and stood up from his desk. Even as he did, he watched the ink appear to sink into the page of the nootbook, Glancing down over himself, he didn't seem any different. He wasn't ever in

bad

shape, he went to the gym on a semi-regular basis, but frequent travel meant he didn't always eat the healthiest food, and he'd put on a little bit of a belly as a result. It still seemed to be there, but he walked over to his bathroom to check in the mirror, pulling up his shirt to reveal a pasty white undercarriage with just a hint of dark brown hair covering it, exactly as it had been when he stepped out of the shower that morning.

Walking back over to his desk, the nootbook was still open, exactly as he left it. There was no trace of the words he wrote, the page appearing as clean and empty as it had been before he put pen to it. He scowled at it as though that would accomplish something, then tried jogging in place as rapidly as he could to test his endurance. After a few minutes, he was breathing heavily and sweating, which seemed about normal. A thought struck him and he groaned, realizing he hadn't thought to perform a control experiment first and now had no real basis for comparison. He shook his head and sat back down, waiting a minute or two to catch his breath, before picking the pen up once more.

He flipped open his laptop, spent a few minutes opening tabs on Forbes, then turned to The The Nootbook once more.

Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Larry Ellison and Warren Buffet will give away their wealth to charity organizations they don't control until they are no longer considered billionaires.

Again, he checked his spelling and word choice each time. Again, the words sank into the page and vanished almost as soon as he finished writing. He didn't expect this statement to have instantaneous effects even if it worked, but he refreshed the tabs he had open in Firefox just in case. Nothing changed, so he closed the nootbook and went to rinse off in the shower, just to avoid getting the sweat he had built up all over his couch.

He spent the rest of the evening catching up on shows he had missed. He had a huge backlog by then, and idly considered how he would phrase a rule about Netflix canceling shows after a single season if the billionaire thing worked. Every hour or so, he'd check news results, but there didn't seem to be anything new coming out about any of the individuals he'd named. By the time he was ready for bed, he thought to check the nootbook again. The words were still absent, and there didn't seem to be any outcome from either change he had attempted since leaving the cafe.

His working theory was that the book could only affect the immediate area, and couldn't create physical changes - so editing himself to be taller or to have a bigger dick was out of the question. Not that he was unhappy with his own size, or even height, but there were people he would be able to help out that way if the book let him give others the bodies they wanted. When he eventually fell asleep, Dan dreamt of Kayla and Tessa kneeling side by side in front of him, both women wearing little leashes and collars and nothing else.

The following morning saw Dan getting up early and dressing in slacks and a polo shirt. There was an all-hands staff meeting in the office right before lunch, and his editor, Ashley, had used that as an excuse to schedule an in-person meeting with him. He had actually met Ashley in college, the year he was going to graduate. She had been in her second year, but was also taking classes

aggressively

to try to graduate early. Smart and driven, she had gone from Junior Editor to Editor in record time, and he knew she had her eye on a Managing Editor position that was likely to open up in the next year or two when the incumbent, Ross, retired.

Dan and Ashley had actually dated a little in college, but had never gone beyond a couple of friendly dinners. They got along great, and had similar views on life, writing, and the world, but the timing just hadn't been there. When she started at The Lookout - the same company as Dan - a strict inter-office dating policy had kept things professional but friendly between them.

Dan parked on the top floor of the two level parking garage, having learned ages ago that it was easier to just take one of the crappier spaces than to accidentally take someone's 'reserved' space that they 'always parked in', even though only a quarter of the spaces on the actual first floor of the parking garage were actually

marked

as reserved. He hated office politics, and it was one of the reasons he was so grateful his position not only let him work from home, but kept him out of the state entirely for a fair part of his time.

He waved at the security guard on the way in, then swiped his badge past the sensor. When the gate beeped he walked through and took the first turn on his left. The interior of The Lookout office was mostly cubes, with the only enclosed offices being reserved for executives - and editors - along the outer wall. He strode down the hall to the 'floating offices' the facility kept available for people who didn't have an actual assigned desk. They were mostly just docking stations with single monitors and a place to set down his laptop bag, but he'd gotten there with half an hour to kill and he didn't want to just sit around the coffee machine while he waited to talk to Ashley.

Before he even unpacked his stuff, he poked his head into the mailroom, checking the little cubby with his name on it to see if he had anything pressing waiting for him. He didn't, but in the process he did notice a new addition to the mailroom staff. Short and cute, with brilliant blue eyes and fine blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail, she flashed him a quick smile when she saw him poking his head in, but didn't approach. He returned it, quietly lamented the office dating policy, and returned to his 'office'. Ten minutes later, he poked his head inside Ashley's door. She had a cheap headset on and was talking animatedly to whoever was on the other end, but she waved him in so he stepped inside, shut the door, and sat down opposite her.

Dan took a moment to examine his editor while she talked. Someone who didn't know her might think the woman was soft, easy to roll over. Ashley McFadden had a round face with high, full cheekbones framed by a mass of curly black hair that fell in ringlets. Her lips were naturally pouty, and her deep brown eyes were naturally heavy lidded. She was of average height at about five four, neither skinny nor fat, wearing a deep green blouse and a knee length pleated black skirt, and generally looked like she should still be in college rather than a few years into her career.

She was not easy to roll over. Nor was she soft. Instead, she possessed an apparently infinite well of inner strength that she used to inexorably shift arguments in her favor by simply applying constant gentle pressure like the tide, wave after wave simply wearing down her opponent until they conceded.

Dan listened to her finishing that process with whoever she was talking to, simply refusing to give in until they agreed to... apparently run an article she wanted. He didn't catch the full details, and the moment she clicked the end call button on her computer, she turned to face him. A broad smile touched her lips and she spoke with genuine warmth in her voice. "Dan! I'm glad to see you. I know you don't like to come into the office, but it's nice to actually, you know, see your face from time to time. Call me a boomer, but there's something special about actual in-person contact."

Dan laughed and shook his head. "Agree to disagree, Ashley. Now, you wanted to look over some of the photo selections to pick which galleries to use online?" The two got down to business, Ashley turning her monitor so they could both look at it. The pictures in question were from a recent trip to the southwest, covering eateries mostly in Phoenix and its outskirts. It took them most of the hour they had scheduled, and in the end Ashley got nearly all of her choices. Dan was

pretty

sure the few he had convinced her to pick were either a concession she had granted so he didn't feel bad, or ones she had secretly wanted, but argued against so he'd feel like he had a say in the matter.

Dan and Ashley both walked down the hall together, joining a stream of other people all headed towards the largest conference room in the building. The tables had been removed and seats set up in rows to create a pseudo-auditorium, with a podium at the front for the speaker and a projector already showing a welcome slide.

Filing in, they found seats as the room filled up, idly chatting about recent work and articles that had been well received. Eventually the meeting got started, beginning with some trite speeches about the importance of working together as family and then going into financials and subscription rates. Dan half-dozed through most of it. Not that he didn't want the paper to succeed - whether in print or digitally - but other than continuing to do his job to the best of his ability, there wasn't much he could actually do to influence that. He was just wondering why they had bothered to hold the meeting in person when Ross stepped up to the podium. The managing editor was in his sixties, built like a linebacker, and sported a glorious mane of silver hair. He'd been a fixture of the organization for the past thirty years, and was generally well liked. Unfortunately, thanks to a recent organization change, he now reported up to Richard 'Ricky' Drake.

Ricky Drake was a nepotism hire. Part of the funding that had kept The Lookout in print through some lean times a decade before had come from a venture capital company. One which Ricky Drake's father happened to chair.

Ricky wasn't exactly a

bad

person, because he genuinely wanted to do well, and to have the company succeed, if only because it would reflect well on him. The problem was that he had a singularly horrible grasp on what actually made the organization click, and refused to back down until his ideas had been 'tested'. Six months ago, he'd put together a committee to review word choices in articles after a letter to the editor came in complaining about a criticism of a local restaurant. The letter wasn't anything special, but the committee could only review so many articles in a day. There also wasn't any budget to hire on

new

people to man the committee, so existing editors had to spend hours re-reviewing each other's work. It only lasted a month before the office was so backed up that they threatened to not fill the pages of their print.

Ross cleared his throat, thanked the previous speaker, then read from a cue card like a man giving his last words. "Hello everyone. Thanks for taking the time to come into the office for this. I wanted to announce that we're trying a new initiative. In order to streamline and produce more consistent articles on any given topic, we're re-assigning all of our editors. Rather than the previous system where each editor was assigned to a collection of random writers, we're now having one or two editors per department, by size." He gestured to the projected slide to his right, showing the new assignments.

Dan groaned immediately, out loud, and he wasn't the only one in the crowd to do so. This idea didn't create more needless work like the committee had, but a good editor was essential, and a good partnership with your editor was how you kept your voice consistent. Some of the writer-editor partnerships in the office went back twenty years. Breaking those apart arbitrarily was probably more significant to some of these people than if Ricky had announced that everyone working for him had to get an immediate divorce. Scanning down the line, he closed his eyes hard, one hand reaching up to squeeze his temples and attempt to ward off the sudden headache he felt.

Ashley had been assigned to the Sports and Recreation department. The Food and Travel department editor was, he scanned the slide to find, James Booker of all people. Dan literally could not have come up with worse assignments if he tried. This was a travesty, and would quite possibly cause some people to quit the moment they left the room.

Reaching into his pocket, Dan felt for The The Nootbook. He hadn't wanted to leave it behind in his apartment. Not that he suspected anyone would break in, but it just felt wrong to let it outside of his grasp, and he was suddenly

very

glad he had it. Pulling a pen from his other pocket, he opened it to the second page and, at the top, immediately began writing.

Everyone at The Lookout is allowed to select their editor, without upper management having a say in it. Ashley is mine.

He snapped the nootbook shut, tucked it back in his pocket, and looked up. Glancing to his side, he caught a strange look on Ashley's face, but waved a hand to put off the questions she probably had for the moment. There was only one speaker after Ross, then a brief Q&A session, before they were dismissed.

Dan took it as an

excellent

sign that his quick thinking had worked, because not a single person asked about the editor change. Given how charged the topic probably would have been otherwise, he had high hopes that

this

rule had actually taken hold.

Lunch was provided after the meeting - one of the things upper management did to try to get people to actually attend - and he and Ashley lined up together to grab sandwiches and salad. She excused herself to her office to eat there, mentioning that she wanted to wrap up some emails, so Dan caught up with a few other writers he hadn't met with in a while as he ate. He took the conversation as an opportunity to ask a few casual questions and the responses he got seemed to confirm that his new rule had taken precedence over Ricky's.

One sandwich later, he sat down at his laptop to work to turn some of his notes into usable copy. He planned to head out and work from home as soon as he could get away with it, but found himself engrossed enough in his work that the rest of the afternoon passed by. It was nearly five when he realized he'd been sitting at the mostly barren cube for most of the day. He closed out of his work, stretched as he stood up, then started packing up.

Dan had just finished putting his things away when Ashley walked up. His dark haired editor had a warm smile on her lips as she approached, announcing cheerfully, "Good timing!" Her returned her smile, "Good timing it is! I was just about to swing by your office." She nodded, gesturing towards the mailroom.

"I figured - If you were going to duck out, you would have at least waved as you left, but if you

were

going to stay, there was still no way in hell you'd be caught in the office past five. C'mon, let's get to the mailroom." Ashley took off in that direction, leaving Dan to catch up. He jogged a few paces, laptop bag bouncing against his back as he did, slowly down once they were side by side.

"What's in the mailroom?" Dan was more making conversation than anything else. He and Ashley were friendly, and would even occasionally take lunch together, but she didn't generally walk him out of the building. That said, her behavior wasn't

completely

out of character, because once she got something in her head, she simply took whatever steps were needed to accomplish it. If she wanted something from the mailroom, but also wanted to say goodbye in person, his only choice was to try to keep up.

She slowed her pace just slightly, moving just fast enough for Dan to feel hurried despite his longer legs. "Oh, no - Leigh doesn't get off until five, so I figured we'd meet her there so I can pressure Frank into letting her go a few minutes early." She paused long enough for Dan to get within elbow range, then poked him in the ribs with hers lightly. "Well, her

shift ends

at five, I figure she probably won't get off until five thirty or six."

Dan blinked at Ashley's odd behavior, falling behind once more, then catching up just as she turned into the mailroom. Dan stepped in behind her, glancing towards the back, where the door to the receiving dock was propped open. The same blonde he had seen before looked up from where she was taping up a box. A beaming smile touched her lips, and she quickly went twice more around the cardboard with the tape dispenser, slapped the adhesive flat, then dropped the dispenser on top of it. Then she looked towards Dan once more and started walking closer.

As she approached, Dan noticed Ashley talking to Steve, the towering mailroom lead, starting to visibly sweet talk him. He was still watching her work when the approaching footsteps informed him the blonde had arrived. He turned towards her as she reached up with both arms, wrapping them around his neck and pulling herself up his body to kiss him firmly on his lips. She dropped back to the floor lightly, greeting him. "Hey Dan!"