(this is back-dated so as to not clutter up current posts; also this was long and I didn’t want to make a 100-tweet thread so I took screenshots of the text and am pasting the transcript here for accessibility; tweet is here)
#MercDreams began when my car started driving by itself, going 90mph+ on residential roads, and after skidding to a stop I learned that there was a demon possessing the engine. I was pissed.
So I ripped the demon out and bundled it into a plastic bag and told it if it didn’t stop possessing my car and making me speed, I would flush it down a church toilet.
The demon mocked me, so I hitched a ride with my assistant, Bronson, and we drove to the Lesbian Catholic Church of Sisterhood, a church made up entirely of lesbians.
Since I was a cis guy, and so was Bronson, he waited in the car while I asked one of the women inside if I could flush a demon down the toilet. “I’m an exorcist,” I told her.
She agreed, and after deposing of the demon, I was heading out when I overheard two women anxiously discussing the “candle ceremony” and I knew at once it was a cultist scam meant to steal souls.
So I walked up to the women and asked if they were having the spooky dreams about red silk and candles, and they went wide-eyed and asked me how I knew.
“It’s a trap,” I said. “A demon is trying to steal your souls through the candles. But I can help.”
The two women agreed. We would need to be disguised, since it was a secret cult and I didn’t want to tip off the demon. We all went back to my office, where we raided the costume department and all dressed in gaudy red graduation robes and pearl necklace belts.
I had to secret about half a dozen knives, rings, and small spell trinkets on my person to be prepared. Janet, the woman whose wife was in danger of being eaten by a demon, gave me a fake wedding ring and said to pretend I was her estranged husband.
We went into this small room that had a chess board set up with candles instead of chess pieces, a bright hearth fire, and heavy curtains over the windows.
There were a bunch of other robed cultists standing around eating snacks and waiting to observe the ceremony. The high priest entered and told Janet to prepare for becoming “one with the light.”
I stepped in, throwing back my hood. “Not so fast, sucker. I know you’re a demon. I challenge you to a duel.”
“Fine,” the priest said, and drew a sword.
Unfortunately I hadn’t brought a sword, so I pulled out two knives, one of which was more like a broken set of Wolverine claws, the middle one missing. We started fighting.
“Okay, pause,” I said mid-duel. “See, here’s the part where you stab me through the hand, which allows me to cast the demon into the candles.”
“Got it,” he said, and we rehearsed the moves. Everything pulled back to reveal we were on a sound stage and were making a movie. I was choreographing and writing the climax of this scene live, while also acting.
THEN it turned out we were actually in/editing an episode of The Witcher s2, which had gone more urban fantasy and was in a crossover universe with the Dresden Files.
I called for a break and Janet, Bronson and I watched over the footage. Then the producer walked in and told us that while he liked the weaponry and stunt work, we were taking the show “too urban/modern” and the show needed to be more medeival.
“Got it,” I said. I turned to Henry Cavill who was once agains Geralt and also somehow Henry Dresden at the same time. “How about this: we start the episode the same, with Geralt dreaming of the red vines, but instead of being in the apartment complex, he’s actually in the woods, trying to find Yennifer.
We blocked out the new opening, having teleported to the woods to film; Geralt began stumbling through a misty forest while ominous mood music played overhead.
I directed him to look at the ruins of an ancient temple. Since it was a dream sequence, he touched the writing on a stone pillar and then was turned into a statue covered in red vines, whereupon he woke up.
“What we need is to give him a collapsable staff with dual knives on one end,” I told Janet, who went to props to fetch said weapon. “For the duel scene.”
I was furiously writing out the new script for the episode when I got a call that the city was being invaded by spies from a rival corporation and we had to go fight them and prevent them setting off a bomb downtown.
I gathered a bunch of secret agents disguised as fashion models and we raced downtown, where a ballet convention was being held. We had to act fast: the seaside beach photoshoot was about to begin, and all the elevators in the city were being rigged to fall.
“This is really cramping my writing time,” I complained to Geralt as I sent him to fight the sea monsters which were arriving on the beach to eat the photographers. “I gotta turn in this episode by tomorrow!”
Then I woke up.