"Let me get this straight," Len said with a grin on his face, "some guy you met in your critique group wrote a disturbing piece of fiction aimed at you and published it on his blog. "
Holly nodded her pretty head and delicately forked some spaghetti and meatballs into her cupid bow mouth.
"You asked him to take it down, but he wouldn't, so you hired some company called The Fiction Police and they took care of it for you."
Holly nodded again and reached for a roll to butter.
"The guy got three chances to cease and desist. When he refused to cooperate, they did outrageous things to him like making his hair fall out, flooding his basement with ghosts and unpotty training his dog. Have I got this right so far?"
Holly's eyes sparkled at him as he waved the pamphlet she had given him to emphasize his point.
"And they can do all this because they have mythical beings on staff; like fairies, witches and honest lawyers."
Holly smiled at him and added some dressing to her salad.
"And now because I'm a writer, and you've run into some other writer whose bubble stood slightly left of center you want me to sign this contract in the back of the pamphlet before we go to the movies?"
Holly handed him a pen, "Yes I do. And I certainly want you to sign it before we get back to my place where you'll gather me ever so gently into your arms and kiss me goodnight."
Len looked again at her cupid bow mouth, used his writer's imagination for a bit, took the proffered pen and signed the standard pre-fictional agreement in the back of the pamphlet.