Being killed by Stephen King...

The story about getting your name in an upcoming book has been picked up by the AP so there are stories floating all over the net. This one was particularly amusing ... this guy reads the same books I do:

http://www.news-journalonline.com/column/247/03SceneTWEN081705.htm
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Had I the ready cash I'd be all over this. I'd love to pop up in the worlds of my favorite writers, and there are plenty more should the First Amendment Project ever want to do another set.

I want to be a Chuck Palahniuk character with an entirely new pathology, maybe something involving floss.
I want to be a mysteriously desiccated corpse floating through the works of Carl Hiaasen, Dave Barry and/or Tim Dorsey. I'd even get a bizarre and ultimately significant Aztec tattoo if it would be integral to the plot.

I want Orson Scott Card to make me part of Ender's jeesh. I want Terry Pratchett to get me into (and possibly quickly back out of) the Ankh-Morpork City Watch whenever I'm not working the night shift at one of Spider Robinson's establishments. Allen Steele can put me on the moon, Robert J. Sawyer can put me in an alien ship, and Harry Turtledove can put me on whichever side of the Civil War he's got winning this time.

I would totally be in Ravenclaw. Or maybe Gryffindor. No, Ravenclaw, they go for the smart ones. But then, Gryffindor wins all the Quidditch matches, so...

I want to be robbed by Bernie Rhodenbarr, hunted down by Elvis Cole, insulted by Spenser, maced by Stephanie Plum, seriously boozed up by Kinky Friedman, and captured by Thursday Next.

Jennifer Crusie, Tom Robbins, Peter David, Christopher Moore, John Varley, Mark Leyner, Max Barry, Keith R. A. DeCandido, Audrey Niffenegger, Jeff Strand, Steven Gould ... Do with me what you will. I can take it.