“Sorry, mum, I can’t talk right now. I’m on vacation with some buddies of mine from the Third Moon of Delerapidieousath. No, not the ones in the band. These are writers. We just found a shop we were looking for. I gotta go. Love you too. Bye.” The young woman hung up the phone with a sigh of exasperation.

Her friends only chuckled in response as they headed into a dusty store that beared the name: Here Be Words.

There was a man sitting behind a giant neon yellow desk whose arms were covered with tattoos of words. He nodded a greeting before returning to reading his left bicep. The young woman and her friends perused the shelves that held thousands of boxes and packages of words, inspiration, alliterations, rhymes, the big pictures, character backgrounds, plots that were sold seperately, and many other things.

After a bit, the young woman came up to the shopkeeper with an armload of boxes.

The man grinned at her after bagging her items, “You should check out the black market villains’ quirks in the back.”