"Writer's Block" is played as a comic with music, sound effects and dialogue spoken in each panel. Most of dialogue is spoken in rhyme, with the formats of AABB and ABAB spoken by the narrator as well as the main characters Foamy and Germaine.
Narrator: This is a story of a girl named Germaine, with purple-dyed hair and slightly insane. She has a pet squirrel, both rabid, diseaseed. His name is called Foamy... obviously.
Foamy: It's genetic!
Narrator: Germaine does spend time writing away, poems and stories, and things she would say. Most of it harsh and some of it cruel, about how life sucks and it's all due to you.
Germaine: It's all your fault and you know it, you filthy maggot. Filthy.
Narrator: But this is the night that finds her most strange, for she stairs at a page with nothing to say.
Germaine: Nothing to say? I fear this is true, for the world is obnoxious, and my squirrel is too.
Foamy: (speaking very quickly) Have you written anything yet? Have you written anything yet? Have you written anything yet? OH MY GOD! You write, you write, you write!!!
Narrator: So she stared and she stared at the page with no words.
Germaine: Out of ideas!
Narrator: She thought this absurd. For now was her time to have this, you see, the dreadful cold curse of a wrting disease. Writer's Block is an illness indeed. There's nothing inside you, not even a sneeze. Ideas that once poured from inside the brain come babbiling out both boring and lame.
Germaine: "The night was dark and stuff..."
Foamy: That really sucks!
Germaine: OK, that's enough.
Narrator: Then stated the girl.
Germaine: I refuse to write anything with insincere words. I need inspiration!
Narrator: The girl did agree. Replied the small squirrel...
Foamy: I drank all your tea.
Narrator: She made herself coffee and sat on the floor staring at posters she had on the wall.
Germaine: From Shakespeare to Doyle, from Anne Rice to Poe, to be as gifted as them, I'd give up my soul...
Narrator: A proposition was made to strike up a deal. But sadly enough, Satan didn't appear.
Foamy: (sing-song) Ha-ha! Satan doesnt' want your soul! Satan doesn't want your soul! You suck. You're worthless. Mm-mm!
Narrator: Oh, well...
Germaine: I would do about anything to be rid of this curse. I'd even dress up as a masochist nurse!
Narrator: Oddly enough, her eyebrows were raising, for she kept a strange costume for just such occasions.
Foamy: What's this all about?
Narrator: The squirrel did think.
Foamy: Who puts on a costume when their mind's on the blank? If my attention was focused, I might lend a hand. Now, what was I saying? Ah, who gives a damn?
Narrator: She veiled herself thinly in the clothes she had mentioned, raising her pen with no apprehension.
Germaine: What better way to get one's juices to flow, but stabbing yourself and using your own.
Narrator: So over and over she stabbed herself cold, plunging the pen as deep as it goes. With blood on her clothes and a smile on her face, Foamy replied...
Foamy: I'm leaving this place!
Germaine: Ooh, colors!
Narrator: But it came to her now in this much dizzy state. This small act of violence had opened the gate. Now placing her pen to the paper stained red, she wrote of disease, nurses and death. She started it off...
Germaine: I'm a girl named Germaine, with purple-dyed hair and slightly insane.
Narrator: On and on, and on it went more, and would eventually end...
Germaine: Neurotically yours.
Foamy: HEY! Did you move the TV guide?
- Germaine mentions Poe as one of the writers she listed. This is refered to the writer Edgar Allen Poe.