You start by clicking a page from the archive you recently lived through. You see yourself in an embarrassing situation which probably required another humiliating sequence of pages to resolve, but you didn't bother living through any of that as you exploited your special jester-being powers to escape accountability for your buffoonery. A nice trick if you can manage.
But now witnessing this page from the reader-side, you make another remarkable discovery. It would seem Jollacrity has stepped up her game, and is not only putting thoughts in your head from angels and demons - the teeming hordes of mirthful and mirthless - but has also begun allowing them all to literally design events throughout the entire story, just as the author would. She's enabled them to create ACTUAL PAGES, despite their varying levels of artistic and writing skill. This is a true fucking nightmare beyond the wildest concerns you ever had for your flirtatious nemesis.