The writer shuffled and reshuffled the pile of papers on his desk. The sudden urgency in organizing the organized desk was directly proportionate to the growing lack of inspiration. The white screen showed no text whatsoever and his demeanor shifted between utter helplessness and violent indignation.
If he could, he'd steal someone's work, although he would never admit to even remotely considering doing it.
The writer turned to his computer to browse writing sites for new ideas. After several hours, he tripped over a shadow writer offering an unpublished manuscript in a writing forum. He called the man and set up a meeting.
The manuscript was surprisingly fresh and it had it needed to be a worldwide success. The writer took it under his name without changing anything but a few typos. The shadow man took his money, an extravagant million dollars, and disappeared.
When the book was published, a scandal broke out. The manuscript turned out to be an exact translation of a book recently published by an obscure unknown Portuguese writer.
No one ever heard of the uninspired writer again or of the shadow.
The Portuguese became famous worldwide, understandably.
And one could undoubtedly say that this was the best paid translation in the history of publishing.