Per 
A moment passes in which nobody is obliterated with nuclear weapons, and the Book Keeper starts to relax.
"Thank you." it says. "Look, you're in a dream that's designed to keep you distracted! It's full of artificial, fake trilobites — trilobites that I created! Can't you see you've fallen into a trap?"
"Dude, what?"
"…what?"
"Come on, man. I'm a trilobite hunter. This is what I do."
"Exactly! These trilobites aren't real! They're—"
You silence it with a bullet to the mouth. It recoils in pain.
"I am Gunhead Anomalocaris, Trilobite Slayer! I slay trilobites no matter what ailment they may be afflicted with. Real, fiction, hypothetical, deceased, they all deserve to die because they are morally wrong and should not exist and I do not discriminate against any trilobite they all die!"
"…but… but they're fictional…"
"So? I've got a narrative cannon that's super-effective against fictional trilobites. I do what I want and you can't stop the hunt."
You swim away, awash with indignation, leaving the Book Keeper confused in your wake, quite satisfied with your fake world.
