The sky bled static, its jagged edges curling like burning celluloid. Lisa stumbled through the parking lot, her boots crunching on fallen film reels that hissed and disintegrated beneath her. Above, the faceless giants leaned closer, their chewing reverberating like thunder, popcorn kernels the size of cars tumbling into the void below.
Rabbit's voice cut through the chaos, warped and layered—a chorus of every age he'd ever been. *"They're bored, Ghost. And bored audiences get *creative*."*
A colossal kernel struck the ground nearby, exploding into a maelstrom of razor-sharp buttered shrapnel. Lisa ducked behind a crumbling gas pump, her Director's tattoo pulsing in time with the arrhythmic applause.
---
**The Critic Revealed**
He found her in the wreckage of a dollar store, his form flickering between iterations—child, old man, something with too many joints.
"You think I'm your sidekick?" Rabbit-∞ spat filmstrip confetti as he laughed. "I'm the *reviewer*. The one who decides if your story's worth the reel."
He snapped his fingers. Reality rewound in jerky frames, replaying Lisa's worst loops:
- **Loop 248:** She lets Lora die
- **Loop 1,912:** She becomes Wraith's apprentice
- **Loop 5,999:** She abandons Rabbit-0 to the machine
"Two stars," Rabbit sneered. "Predictable tropes. Weak character growth."
Lisa's knife found his throat. "Rate *this*."
---
**The Audience Demands**
The giants stirred, their hollow eyes narrowing. A beam of light lanced down, pinning Lisa in a spotlight that smelled of burnt sugar and regret.
**DIRECTOR'S NOTE:**
**ACT III CLIMAX REQUIRED**
**SUGGESTED EDITS:**
**[ ] HEROIC SACRIFICE**
**[ ] TWIST VILLAIN REVEAL**
**[ ] _________**
Rabbit's blood pooled around her boots, forming cursive letters: *"Give them spectacle or become it."*
---
**The Unscripted Choice**
Lisa tore the Director's tattoo from her wrist, the skin sizzling as she slapped it onto the spotlight's edge.
**NEW EDIT:**
**[X] KILL THE AUDIENCE**
The beam shattered. The giants recoiled, their faceless maws screeching as the shards sliced through them. Falling popcorn became meteorites. Static rained like acid.
"You can't—" Rabbit gurgled, clutching his dissolving throat.
Lisa stepped into the widening rift. "Watch me."
---
**The Projector's Heart**
Beyond the screen lay a nightmare film set:
- Director's chairs made of fused vertebrae
- Cameras with lens-eyes weeping oil
- A script carved into a child's ribs
At the center sat the **True Audience**—not giants, but ordinary people in a endless theater, their faces glued to the spectacle.
"Cut!" screamed a man with Lora's eyes. "She's breaking the narrative!"
Lisa raised her knife. The house lights flared.
---