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A footnote in an academic paper started seeing a psychiatrist. 'I feel so marginalized,' it sobbed. 'I contain the most fascinating information in the entire document, yet I'm literally pushed to the bottom of the page in tiny font. Meanwhile, the main text just rambles on about methodology!' The psychiatrist nodded sympathetically, then added a small asterisk next to his diagnosis: '*Patient may be suffering from delusions of relevance.'

If Fyodor Dostoyevsky had a dating profile: 'Looking for someone who enjoys long walks through existential dread, candlelit discussions about suffering, and spontaneous 50-page internal monologues about whether to pick up a dropped napkin. Must be comfortable with moral ambiguity and family drama spanning generations. Ideal first date: debating free will in a dimly lit tavern while ignoring our food. Warning: I will psychoanalyze you before dessert. Swipe right if you believe redemption is possible through suffering.'

A protagonist walked into a performance review with her author. 'Let's discuss your arc this year,' the author began. 'You've grown tremendously.' The protagonist sighed. 'Yes, but at what cost? You killed my mentor, destroyed my hometown, and gave me a tragic backstory involving wolves.' The author nodded sympathetically. 'Character development is tough.' 'And the love interest you assigned me?' she continued. 'He speaks entirely in brooding one-liners.' The author made a note. 'I'll give him a redemption arc in the sequel.' 'Great,' the protagonist muttered. 'More trauma for everyone.'

A ghostwriter attended a séance, hoping to contact famous deceased authors for inspiration. The medium channeled Shakespeare, who immediately asked, 'So you too write things and let someone else take credit?' The ghostwriter nodded sheepishly. Shakespeare laughed: 'Welcome to the club. You think I wrote all those plays alone? I had twelve ghostwriters. We called ourselves the Bard's Dozen.'