Let’s say the plot is a local children’s comic book competition. The kids will watch a presentation about the medium and its fictional history, have some time to work on their submissions and then be judged by the most acclaimed professional comic writer, artist and editor in the field from Dimmadelphia. Hazel is excited to share her ideas and befriend the other members. Her story is highly original compared to the rest: it subverts common tropes of the genre it appears to be and has a complex plot, unique art style, dramatically fluctuating tone and deep existential themes that reflect Hazel’s thought process. Horror? Horror mystery? Horror mystery romance? Whatever the details, it will keep Cosmo up at night. Her competitors think it’s weird and confusing. A few of them outright mock it. Some also reveal that they’re deliberately trying to appeal to the judges by including tropes they’ve often used in their careers.
Hazel being Hazel, standing out so much and the current and future judgement send her into a spiral of overthinking, stress and self-doubt. Is she going to get a bad review? Of course she is! These judges know everything there is to know about making good comics and her one is nothing like any of theirs! She’s not meeting their standards at all! Worse yet, she’s betraying the very spirit of comic books! And if she disappoints today, her comic career will be over before it began! FOREVER! She frantically rewrites her piece, trying to make it simpler and more formulaic despite it hurting. Wishing doesn’t work because it’s a competition and her attempt at an indirect wish backfires. Her fairies tell her that the stakes really aren’t that serious and her story’s creativity is one of its strengths, and hers, but gets so anxious that she runs outside to avoid facing the panel.
One of the judges notices and finds her, a short-haired woman wearing neutral or masculine clothes. Hazel gasps. “Trixie Tang! You revitalized the Crimson Chin franchise after the dark age with how you developed his supporting cast!” Trixie sits besides her. She explains that she understands exactly how insidious the perceived need to conform is and shows Hazel a picture of her at Hazel’s age. Hazel’s jaw drops. Cosmo only now realizes that this Trixie was Timmy’s classmate, to his utter amazement. The fairies and Hazel comment on how different she is. “Yeah, I took a while to figure myself out.” Cue 2D flashback montage. When Trixie was a kid, she was so terrified of being seen as weird and uncool that she followed the trends obsessively and hid her then-unconventional interests, only learning to embrace them years later. She was the most popular kid in school, but all the praise and admiration was for a shallow, generic version of her. In her desperation to be perfect, she wouldn’t let herself be human. Touched, Hazel lets her take a look at her first comic. Trixie praises her authenticity, inventiveness and ambition and promises that the panel will judge her comic for what it is, not what they think it should be - or else Trixie wouldn’t be on it. Giving the next generation of comic fans the support she needed is why she’s here. What matters isn’t being the best of everyone according to some external metric, but becoming the best version of yourself. You need sincerity and confidence to do that.
In the end, Hazel doesn’t win. Her story was a little too complicated for a ten-year-old to keep track of. But she’s content knowing that she gave it her best, and as Trixie says, all the kids have both talent and room to grow whether they won or not. Hazel vows to hone her skills and be back for next year’s contest. Wanda says that she’s very proud of both the girl she has now and the girl she knew then.
