The adventures of Jett Freelancer

Chapter 10
Jett Freelancer and the Vampire?

Chapter Description: Jett pays a visit to his origin story

 “Vampires,” I thought to myself as I contemplated what to introduce to the series I was writing.

“I haven’t read too many stories about vampires being regressed, it might do,” I pondered out loud.

“Now, how can I smoothly inject a vampire into the current narrative?” I began to chew over their strengths, their weaknesses, would they become human, etc...

There was a knock at the door.

A young man in his teens stood there. He was muscular, square-jawed, and looked at me with a pair of piercing blue eyes. A Je ne sais quoi of adventure and daring-do radiated from his being.

He was dressed in a simple t-shirt, loose-fit jeans, and a pair of nondescript tennis shoes.

He said hello and barged into my apartment like he owned the place. There was a faint smell of talcum powder and a faint rustle of plastic as he passed by me.

“Do I know you?” I asked him.

“Cut the crap, you know who I am,” he said as he took up residence in my BarcaLounger, “and quite frankly, I’m not happy with our current arrangement!”

“Hmm, let’s say that I don’t know you. How would you introduce yourself?”

“Okay, you wanna play the game that way, eh?” he sat forward in the BarcaLounger, “Let’s just say my name is ‘Jett’ with two tees.”

“Um, nice to meet you ‘Jett with two tees’,” I replied, “is your name of American Indian origin by any chance?”

“No, it’s not and I don’t understand why you’re playing dumb, but I’m already angry enough with you,” he said stiffly, “My last name is Freelancer.”

“Jett Freelancer, imagine that! My character in the series of short stories I’m writing is named…” I trailed off as my mind began to perform a few mental gymnastics.

I’d read enough fiction to understand the concept of a multiverse that allows for fictional characters to be created, modified, what-iffed, and what-notted, but I never dreamed that a person with my character’s name would one day show up on my doorstep.

“You seem to be getting somewhere,” replied Jett, “let me clarify something for you. Yes, I’m the character that you’re currently writing about in your fiction. It’s for this reason that I’ve come here today.”

My mind sputtered with possibilities as I asked, “My character? The one that I’ve been regressing and playing baby to teen games with on paper, that’s you?”

“Yes, it is. I started as a chap in his forties, ended met an Amazon chief, ended up regressing to a baby, grew up again, got a girlfriend, et cetera, et cetera,” he replied with a serious look on his face.

“Okaay,” I answered wondering where the Candid Camera crew had hidden themselves, “So, you’re Jett Freelancer, my fictional character that I created to exercise my writing skills and indulge in my odd tastes in fiction, is that it?”

“Yes,” he said leaning back on the BarcaLounger while crossing his arms, “And I wish for you to either stop writing about me or come up with something better.”

The possibilities ran through my brain like a white water canyon stream that ends up at a waterfall. I picked up my trusty laptop and opened up LibreOffice Writer with a fresh document in the Jett Freelancer folder.

“So, if I were to write a quick little one-liner about Jett Freelancer immediately regressing into a 2-year-old…” I said as I quickly typed it into my document.

The change was instantaneous, Jett Freelancer became a bubbly 2-year-old sitting in the BarcaLounger. As his clothing didn’t change with him, I corrected that with my next line.

“Jett Freelancer found himself buried in his teenager clothing. It changed into a onesie complete with a fresh diaper,” I typed.

And Jett now looked the part of a 2-year-old. My excitement grew as I looked at him! This was just so cool!

The baby stopped smiling and gave me a stern look, “I hope you’ve sufficiently proven to yourself that I exist and that I’m your creation. Could we get on to the business at hand?”

I walked over and picked him up, sat down on the BarcaLounger with him on my lap, and muttered, “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

“Yes, yes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and all that. What I’m here for… stop that!” he didn’t like being tickled, so I stopped.

“I trust that at least my lap is comfortable, then?” I asked of this delightful child. I knew I’d given him charisma, but until I experienced it, I didn’t know just how much!

“What? Oh, it’s fine,” he said as a line of drool spilled from the side of his mouth. I grabbed a Kleenex and dabbed at it.

“Enough! What I’m here today for is to get you to stop doing this regression thing,” he pointed his finger at me, “frankly, making me into a diaper-loving teenager isn’t what I feel that my character was meant to be.”

I grabbed his finger and lightly admonished him, “Naughty, naughty! It’s not polite to point,” I just wanted to eat this cute baby right up!

He gave me a look of long-suffering indignation and continued. “Tina is okay, her character getting witch-like powers works for the story, but you made her into a DL too! What were you thinking?”

“I wanted her to be a strong support character. I found that I needed to use a MacGuffin to give her powers and abilities. You’ll see later that having a lot of power can also mean being restricted in other ways. As for her being a Diaper Lover, why not? It’s my interest.”

“It’s stupid! She’s a sexy lady that has the powers of a goddess and you gave her a diaper fetish!”

“What else disturbs the mighty adventurer Jett?” I asked, changing the subject, as I booped his nose playfully, “Is my widdle man all cranky and ready for his nap?” (He was so snuggable I just couldn’t resist).

“Will you stop that?” he said angrily, “What plans have you for Emilia? She’s a former old maid rejuvenated into a teenager and now has the mind of a toddler. What’s her part in the story?”

“Emilia is your younger sister. She adores you and wants to enjoy life with the second chance she received. She might have a larger part to play in the story later, but I’m not telling because spoilers!”

“And Betty? He asked.

“She’s a distraction. I used her for comic relief and felt that she should have her adventures,” I affirmed not telling him what was to become of her.

“How about Damian? What did he ever do to you?”

“It’s not what Damian did, it’s more about what he represents. He’s a bully with a single unloving parent. His mother did start paying a little more attention after finding herself put in a daycare center for a while, but it didn’t change her attitude much.”

“As for Damian himself, he’s rude, crude, and adds a good healthy dose of antagonist to the story. You can expect more from him in the future, I assure you.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. Was he buying it? I hoped so, it wouldn’t do to tell him what was in store as my creativity had started to flow a little easier.

“Still, why haven’t you created new adventures for me? Where are the hidden temples and the hidden Nazi empires? Where are the space aliens? Why isn’t my life exciting and adventurous?”

I took affront to the space aliens, “You leave those aliens out of it! That’s a really stupid thing to bring into an adventure story!”

I continued, “Your story is progressing well, it’s at a pace that I like and as they say: It’s not the destination but the journey that matters here.”

“But, I’m bored!” he yelled. He looked unhappy and ready to cry. I felt a little sad for him having to put up with an inept author that hadn’t learned how to tell stories very well yet.

“Maybe…” I began as a knock was heard at the door again. I put Jett down on the BarcaLounger and went to answer it.

Tina stood there. While she wasn’t a vision of beauty, she radiated an inner aspect that gave her an aura of something much, much more.

“Is Jett here?” she asked with an all-knowing smile.

I nodded and she invited herself in, she then walked over to the BarcaLounger. “There you are! Have you hounded the creator enough, yet? We should be getting on with our next adventure by now!”

“Wait a minute!” I interjected, “Did you just call me ‘the creator’?”

“Well, you are, aren’t you?” she turned around and faced me, “At least in a sense, anyway. While you might not be the creator alluded to in the story, you’re the creator’s creator, right?”

She turned back around and picked up the adorable Jett. “C’mon Jett, we need to leave him to write another chapter and you’re in the way.”

“You could say that I’m getting a little ‘behind’ in my work, yes.” I agreed with my best dad's humor.

The two just ignored it. Ingrates!

“Um, Tina? Do you think you could change me first?” asked the cuddly Jett.

“Hang on,” she created a changing table out of nowhere and took care of his needs, then scooped him up while making the changing table disappear back to wherever she pulled it from.

“It was nice to meet you,” she said for the both of them as she moved to the door, “grow up Emilia as soon as you can, okay?”

“Um, okay, bye!” I said awkwardly as they left.

“Now about those vampires…” I muttered to myself.

A little later on, I decided to not have vampires in Jett’s life just yet.