Screw profiles and fields. That stuff is not going to fly. I’m going to mess around. HA. This is pretty much what I’m doing with all of the main cast (that I have planned, I might drop or add or a combination of both of those actions). But this one turned out particularly funny, while I think the others are mostly normally rambly notes. Aside from some inherently funny details, I didn’t write them in a particularly funny or even stylistic way. This one sounds almost prose-ish.
Certain that he is God’s gift to something, Malcom Harcourt is determined to find out just what that is. He’s tried acting, baseball, chess, and piano. Unfortunately, he has so far turned out to be a tone-deaf klutz with stage fright who can never remember how knights or even pawns move.
Undaunted, he brags like a champion about things he barely understands. Always the first to define or elucidate a term (incorrectly), his unflagging self-love is so striking that he has exactly one friend. And even that is according to an interesting definition that Malcolm himself might have concocted.
He lives with his father and grandfather in a situation that proves he is also not any good at cooking or housework. But that’s fine, as his father is. Malcolm’s mother left his father while she was pregnant, but after she died in childbirth, Malcolm defaulted to his father. He is unaware of this, although it would probably change very little if he did know.
Although academia is yet another of his failings, Malcolm is an avid reader of (often terrible) novels and so is a common fixture in the local library. This may explain why his “friend” sticks around, other than the entertainment value he offers to a sufficiently sardonic or indulgent personality.
I’m not sure which of the planned characters I want to be his friend. It’d be a bit PSSHH for it to be one of the girls, but the other guy is half-supposed to be a redeemed monster. I don’t know yet.