Author's note: Part of a challenge to myself to work in new series. People who are new to my writing-I love fanfics. Like. Sincerely. So no slamming meant, this is all in good fun. :)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Community. It's property of NBC. If I did, we'd actually have a NEW DAMN SEASON, about now. Happy October 19th, everyone.

"What was that?" Britta furrowed her brow, and scanned around the study group's usual table of residence in the library, to see who might be the culprit for what she had just heard.

"You being boring, probably," Pierce interjected, having suddenly roused from either a brief nap or the beginnings of the end of life.

"That was the disclaimer," Abed answered, his eyes shifting. "Those come first in a lot of fanfiction so the author is left with a sense that they were able to legally protect themselves from negative repercussions from a company."

"A what?" Jeff repeated.

"A disclaimer."

"Why would we need a disclaimer?"

"Because we're in a fanfiction, right now, at this current moment. We're existing on a different dimensional plane, in an alternate universe thought up by an amateur writer who doesn't hold the legal rights to our characters."

Britta gave a sigh, "Abed…"

"We're not in a fanfiction," Jeff added. "It was probably just something over the PA system or you're tired from studying for your underwater aerobics class midterm, Britta."

"I know I've been losing sleep, recently. Annie and I are on the decorating committee for the Fall Ball!" Shirley, on cue, held up a handcrafted streamer cut into identical leaf shapes. "We were working on this all night, and we still have to make fifteen galloons of my special fruit punch. It's fancier than regular punch; it has little orange slices in it floating around. "

Both Annie and Shirley gave identical squeals to this, and Britta slumped forward on her spot at the table, hands over her face, staving off an oncoming headache. A little more, each day, the women's suffrage movement suffered just a little more.

"So why would someone right a fanfic about us, anyway? And why not like, set it in space or something?"

"Troy," Jeff held up a finger in the direction of the ex-football star, "Troy. Don't get him started on this. Don't even entertain starting him on this. You know it won't end well, if it ever does end."

"Very good question," Abed tilted his head to a side. "Why not have it take place somewhere else that time constraints or a budget might not normally allow? It might be out of the author's comfort zone, or they could be going for a more realistic-styled story, making it seem like it's supposed to be a real episode."

"Or, it could just be another normal day and we could have midterms to study our asses off for unless we want to take intermediate pastry baking AGAIN in the spring," Jeff chimed in, and set up his book for said class upright on the table, giving himself a small blockade. "Now I'm going to sit here and read up on the history or tarts without another word about stupid fanfiction or an even stupider Fall Ball."

"So how much money does this fanfiction thing make, anyway?" Pierce leaned forward, and Jeff, with a small mutter of "Jesus Christ", sunk further into his seat.

"Usually nothing, since the writers don't own any intellectual rights to the characters."

"Nothing? That's just stupid. Why would someone waste their time on something they can't make any money off of?"

"Well, there's that one girl who wrote that Twilight story and then adjusted it to be a whole new story," Shirley continued to sprinkle glitter over the colorful leaves of the streamers. "She made millions of dollars shilling out her pornography like some sort of little tramp."

"Pornography?" Pierce's eyebrows raised, "Go on…"

"Shirley, how would you even KNOW about something like that?" Britta almost didn't want to know the answer to this, but being Britta, felt compelled to raise the level of awkward at the study group's table.

"Oh, we bought all the copies at the local book store and held a burning party for them last month," she replied cheerfully.

"Shirley makes a good point. Fanfiction can sometimes lead to a lucrative career in writing. A lot of the writers for the Inspector Spacetime series started out as fanfiction writers for the show, only to be brought on as actual novel writers," Abed was quick to point out. "A lot of writers do it for the simple enjoyment of getting to see their favorite characters in a situation they wouldn't otherwise see. It's nothing new, really, although it took off with Star Trek in the 1970's. It could be argued that this is something going as far back as ancient Greece."

"You mean like boy love?"

"Pierce…" Britta moaned.

"I wrote some in high school…" Annie admitted. "It was just, like… A silly phase… This book a few friends and I were a little obsessed with, so we used to go and make stories up."

"Makes sense. Adolescent female, a large chunk of the fanfiction writing community," Abed said with a nod.

"Hey…. Who's that?" Troy nodded across from the table, and all looked up, suddenly aware that they weren't alone in their usual group. The tiny dark haired girl on texting on her cell phone looked up, briefly, and then returned to texting.

"Sakura LeFleur," replied Abed. "Half-Japanese, half-French, heterochromatic and mildly physic with a truck ton full of previous paternal and abandonment issues. She's an original character for the fanfic."

"We're not characters! She's just some nut job who took a seat while everyone was obsessing over this fanfiction crap, or, like me, too busy actually studying to notice," said Jeff, lurching forward, deeper into his textbook, wishing and willing for it to transport him away.

"Usually characters like this are meant to drive along some action, usually romantic interest. For instance, I know I'm immediately attracted to her broken and tragic past that compels me to protect her. Troy's feeling the same way, which will undoubtedly lead to some conflict between us in later chapters, if this isn't just a oneshot. Britta and Annie will instantly take a disliking to her because they're women who are on the same plane as her in both looks and age, so they'll see her as a threat to the natural order of things."

"No, I hate her because she's making this conversation drag on longer than it has to," Britta replied, and looked to Sakura, who giggled as she stared down at her cell phone.

"I kind of like her…." Annie said meekly, raising one glitter-covered hand.

"Alternatively you could take her under your wind as a sibling. Alternatively to that, it could lead to something romantic."

"That's a THING? Holy crap, this fanfiction stuff's amazing!" Pierce laughed.

"Not all of it," Abed shifted his eyes to Pierce. "There's a lot of dark, dark things out there. There can be character death, M-rated sequences, or, on some segments of the Internet, even NC-17."

"Why do they use stupid Canadian ratings—No. No. I am NOT getting pulled into this," Jeff lifted up his book once more.

"Too late, you're already into the matrix. Well, not literally. That'd be a crossover and that'd be a totally different thing."

"Dude, like… A crossover with Inspector Spacetime could happen?"

"That and much more, Troy. Some people could write us as the reincarnations of Inspector Spacetime, living in some alternate dimension where we coexist with one another, unaware of our past lives."

"So how weird can this stuff get?" Britta was clearly losing the battle to remain out of the downward spiral of reality.

"We could all be giant animals. The Dean could pop in dressed as a Dalmatian unexpectedly at any moment, or could even be a real Dalmatian."

"Why is that something we'd consider weird? He did that last week!" Jeff chimed in.

And with that, the glass door opened, and Jeff dreaded even the thought of looking up to greet the chipper voice.

"Dee-dil-lee-doo-da, dee-dil-lee-day, my, oh my with a Deaningful day," the Dean chirped, while, much to Jeff's relief, looking like his normal, business casual Moby self. "Good morning, Greendale study group! I see some of you are working hard on the decorations for the Fall Ball! Try not to fall while you're having a ball! …No, seriously, we're not up on our insurance, and… It'd be a messy legal battle. Anyway, here's the scoop, there was a little "oopsy" in the chemistry lab and Chang's gone and turned himself into this radioactive… Monster thing. I don't know exactly what it is except it's got a lot of spikes and I think it spits acid. World's counting on you, thanks!"

And all sat there, silent. The glittering of the streamers had stopped.

"Scifi fanfic. Awesome," Abed nodded.

"So… No one's going?" Britta looked about in disbelief as she saw no one making a move at the table.

"No, because Chang's not a monster… On the outside, at least… Inside's a different story," Jeff muttered, turning another page in his textbook.

"Might not hurt to check it out… I mean, I'd want to know if I should be finishing up these streamers or not…." Annie said, fiddling with one in her hands. "And if Chang's a giant monster, that'd probably mean the dance would get cancelled, or even postponed. And you can't use fall decorations in winter… You just can't."

Britta bolted up from her seat, "Abed, if Chang is a giant acid monster and new girl goes with us, what are her chances of surviving?"

"Well, the way I see it, there are possible two outcomes. One, she joins us in battle and finally earns the acceptance of those in the group who were unsure of her."

"How about the other?"

"She dies in a blaze of valor in an ultimate act of love trying to protect Troy and/or myself, not wanting to see us injured and therefore allowing the author to get away with leaving the romantic triangle as is, and not inciting the wrath of any fans who may have been leaning in either direction. It leaves the ending purposefully indecisive for the reader so they can make up their own mind as to who she would have eventually ended up with if she'd lived."

"You know what… ? I'm going to go down to the chemistry lab, kick monster Chang's ass, and then I'm going to go get some tater tots from the cafeteria."

"I'll go, too. Just… To help make sure no one's hurt too bad," Annie gingerly stood up from her seat.

Pierce looked over to Abed. "Hey, Abed. Any chance that the hot biology teacher got transformed into some kind of even hotter monster?"

"Chances aren't that great… But it's not completely out of the question…"

Pierce was out the door with Britta, Annie, and Sakura, and Jeff slammed his book shut and stood, "I'm going, too. You know why? Because when we get there, and it's just Chang in a rubber lizard suit spitting out mouthwash and chasing Leonard around, I get to laugh at all of you."

"I should go, too," Shirley set down the banner and picked up her purse, "If Chang hits the gym, buying a special stamp for my Kricket to make that banner just went to waste…"

When they were gone, Troy noted Abed had not moved from his spot.

"…Do you think there really is some kind of acid-spitting Chang monster out there, Abed?"

"I can do you one better, Troy. This fanfic's a self-insert, so I know there is. Just like I know that there's a sword beneath both of our seats."

Troy reached underneath his wooden chair, and like a Jehovah's Witness receiving gifts while working undercover on Christmas Day, his eyes lit up as he retrieved a shining, silver sword.

"It's… Magnificent."

"It's forged out of the souls of seventeen-hundred Viking warriors," Abed now held his sword, while Troy still examined his with awe. "Now are we going to kick some Chang monster butt?"

"Let's do this," and they stood from their seats, "By the way… Who's that girl end up with, at the end of the fic?"

"Jeff. He saves her while she's captured in Change's frothing maw. It's an alpha male thing, so it's the nature of the beast."

"…I can live with that."

"Excelsior," and the two were gone, off to fight the Chang-beast in a scene so epic Abed knew it could never be fully justified in print that he avoided the issue entirely and ended this fanfic on a cliffhanger.

END