
Act One
Stanton Fenwick wrote a book. It wasn’t long. It wasn’t deep. It was just a simple farce, decades behind its time.
He worried his book would be misunderstood, that the world wasn’t ready for early twentieth-century literature.
Another concern: Stanton didn’t know how to write.
But he knew what he found funny, especially dry comedy. So he tapped out a few trial chapters, got carried away, and ended up with An Aspiration to Lie Flat.
He handed out copies to friends and relatives.
Their reactions were uniformly positive, which he found highly suspicious.
Imagine watching a chimpanzee solve a toddler’s puzzle.
That’s how people reacted when Stanton told them he wrote a book.
Everyone found the idea adorable.
Stanton was benefiting from chimp glow, and he knew it.
Continue reading “Fenwick Appears”


