Excerpt: Witty Title Goes Here / Adventures in Wrimonia

From Adventures in Wrimonia:
“I need a plot!” Mia mumbled to herself. “But where am I going to find one?” She nearly ran into a man wearing a pink suit and carrying a magic wand. That wasn’t the first thing she noticed about him, though. She hadn’t been here long, but the first thing she noticed about this man was the lack of name tag.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just on my way to rush to someone’s side. They needed to know who I am.”
“Who you are?” Mia asked. “How can they tell? You don’t have a name tag.”
“Ah, you must be new,” the man said. Mia took great offense to this as he adjusted the collar on his shirt. “My name is Mr. Ian Woon.”
“Uh, hi, Mr. Woon, I’m Mia,” Mia said, extending her hand for a handshake.
“No, that’s Mr. Ian Woon,” he said, not holding out his hand. Mia let her hand down.
“Okay, fine, good to meet you, Mr. Ian Woon. So who exactly are you? And how’d you get away with not wearing a single name tag in this place? They sneaked a guest name tag on m before I registered.”
“Oh, I’m not doing NaNoWriMo,” he said. “I’m a tradition around here.”
“A tradition?”
“Yes,” Mr. Ian Woon said. “Every year Wrimos everywhere include me in their novel. They can do whatever they want to me. Some use me as a major character. Some use me as a passing name when they need one. Some even kill me.” Mr. Ian Woon took off his jacket and revealed a wound on his sleeve. The blood had crusted over. Mia cringed.
“Have you gotten that cleaned up? I’m sure someone could--”
“No, it’s just fine,” Mr. Ian Woon replied. “I’m still recovering from all the Wrimos who decided to kill me last year. It has to be quick, though, since November’s coming and they may want to kill me again. One person killed me with a rusty titanium spork. A spork. They even made me get tetanus before dying, but they never told me that, no way.”
Mia shook her head. “So do they all meet you before killing you? That’s not very kind.”
“Of course they do. Some are just a little more crass than others.”
“That’s always good to know,” Mia mumbled. She didn’t want Mr. Ian Woon to hear this, but apparently he did anyway, as his ears perked up.
“So if I include you in my novel, what do I get?”
“I get another cameo in someone’s novel. You get another character. It’s win-win.”
“Sure, unless you get killed.” Mia thought back to her own writing. She hadn’t been doing much of it recently, but she had never killed anyone in a work of fiction.
“Well, that’s enough about me. What about you? Do you know how I’ll show up in your novel yet?”
“I don’t even know what I’m writing about yet. I just showed up here today and you expect me to know? Jeepers.”
Mr. Ian Woon shrugged. “It never hurts to ask,” he said. “Besides, some people come in with ideas created years in advance. Crazy, I tell you...” He looked around. “But it’s all okay. As long as you figure out something.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” Mia said. “I have just three weeks.”
“Well, I have to go,” Mr. Ian Woon said. “It was great talking to you, but there’s someone in the All-Ages Coffeehouse who still doesn’t know who I am. As if they couldn’t see the thread that sushimustwrite posted about me in the Reaching 50,000 forum. Silly Wrimos...” Mr. Ian Woon ran off without so much as a goodbye.
“That was rude,” Mia said to herself. She looked around. She was still standing in front of the Realism building. Wrimos, as she now took to calling these crazy people running between buildings, were running around, some entering and exiting buildings, some disappearing to a place she couldn’t quite tell.
How am I going to do this, anyway? Mia asked herself. I haven’t written anything longer than what could fit on a post-it note since my college papers, and suddenly I’m expected to write a book in a month. This is crazy.