I would say, "Que es?" Then my roommate would tell me, "This is America. We speak English here, not Spanish or French. If you can't speak English, get out." And I would say, "What about the parts of America that were originally Spanish? Maybe I'm an original New Mexican." And she would say, "You sure don't look like one." And I would say, "So what if I've got the wrong color hair and eyes and the wrong skin shade? You shouldn't be so judgemental." And she would look at me like I'm weird, and she would be right. And I would go Google Allan Quatermain. And then I would say, "Oh! He's a literary character? My friend read that book once." The air conditioner would say, "___________." And I would ask, "What was that?" And my roommate would look at me like I'm weird and say, "I didn't tell you anything." And I would explain, "It was just the air conditioner talking--sorry." And my roommate would take my to a psychologist, and the psychologist would take me to a psychiatrist, who would cast me into a mental institution. The End.
What if I wrote a story in which I killed all the heroes and didn't post the ending?