As you lie down to sleep on Christmas Day you’re as tired as Sleepy from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and before you know it you are fast asleep like Sleeping Beauty from Sleeping Beauty. Images rise up before you like Angry Birds shot out of cannons and you realise that even though you are asleep your imagination is still going strong, just like cancer, aids or One Direction, whose songs have been growing on you recently like a tumor.
But I digress.
As these words flow through your head you realise you can only be in one place: The Land of Bad Writing (see title)… Manifesting itself before you are five doors covered in the carved etchings of countless words from countless of stories that neither you nor anybody else have ever read. You want to wake up and escape this nightmare but a little morbid curiosity does stir inside you and make you wonder what horrors lurk behind the innocent looking signs on each door?
What do you do?