A/N: Oh. Em. Gee. It's my first MR fic on my new account! My old one was almost all Maximum Ride, but for some reason, none of my new ideas made it onto this account. Then my favorite Maximum Ride FF author, St. Fang of Boredom, announced she was having a contest, so I figured that'd be the perfect place to start! Yay! So, anyway, the contest was to write a sequel to one of her one-shots, and I picked "Faintly Resembling a Wedding," in which she finally weds her captive Fang- and only partially against his will!

Fang: Wha-? Where am I? Who are you? Did you steal me from Saint?

Me: Noooo, I borrowed you from Saint. I'll give you back when I'm done with the disclaimer.

Fang: So she knows I'm here?

Me: ... Shut up. 'Borrowed' can be a very loose term when you want it to be.

Fang: Riiiiiight. And you need me to do a disclaimer because...?

Me: Well, Saint has you in all of hers, and they're funny.

Fang: Do you realize how much shorter this AN would be if you'd just put in the disclaimer on your own? I don't think she's judging the Author's Note's anyhow. Why don't you just disclaim before this thing gets any longer.

Me: FINE! God, Saint's right, you are frustrating. Jeez. Anyway, I don't own Maximum Ride, Fang, St. Fang of Boredom, Faintly Resembling a Wedding, or Job Listings (which I mention in the fic). James Patterson owns MR and Fang, and Saint owns all the rest, first and foremost herself.

Saint: Faaaaaang!

Fang: Here we go.

Saint: Remember when we got married?

Fang: How could I forget? My illegitamite son ate all the cake and we were forced to capture a giant spider.

Saint: And we kissed!

Fang: Yeah. I try not to think about that too much. Speaking of which, why are you forcing these unpleasant memories back upon me?

Saint: Well, we never did get to have a honeymoon...

Fang: Thank God!

Saint: You don't mean that.

Fang: I mean what I say and I say what I mean.

Saint: Guess you don't mean very much then.

Fang: *headdesk*

Saint: Anyway, I think we should go out today and celebrate.

Fang: Celebrate what?

Saint: Our union!

Fang: Did you miss it when I said I'm trying to forget that? Seriously, Saint, when Max finds out about this, she'll kill us both. Literally kill. As in second-degree murder.

Saint: I think we should go to the beach!

Fang: Were you listening to a word I just said?

Saint: I don't have to listen to you anymore- we're married. Let's go!

Later, at the beach:

Fang: Why are we here?

Saint: I told you-

Fang: Yeah, yeah, our union. I meant why the beach?

Saint: Why not the beach?

Fang: I dunno. Seems a little... tame for you. I sort of expected something, like, outer space or something. This sort of pales in comparison, don't you think?

Saint: I thought you'd like that. You were complaining about our adventures all throughout the Job Listings author's notes.

Fang: Well, yeah, it's just...

Saint: What?

Fang: I DON'T KNOW YOU ANYMORE!

Saint: Fangles...

Fang: NO! You're just not the same person you were before I married you! You've changed.

Saint: That's not true D:

Fang: It is true. Yesterday you were dragging me through various worlds, time periods, and dimensions. Now the BEACH? That's the most unoriginal thing I've ever heard of! This fic should be disqualified from the contest just for sheer predictability!

Saint: I- wait, what?

Fang: Nevermind. The point is, you're just so different now that a different author's writing as you. I mean, we're already significantly far into the fic and you haven't mentioned Spiffy OR Pooky yet, no one has shouted out any random words, and I haven't been humiliated ONCE. What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is WRONG with this writer?

Saint: Oh God. Somebody call the wacky shack; Fang's lost it again.

Fang: *storms off*

Saint: Wait, Fangles, I- OMG ICE CREAM! *goes to get ice cream*

While Saint was enjoying her ice cream, Fang was doing some hardcore soul-searching...

Fang: Wow. When Saint announced the sequel contest, I thought it would be a good thing. An oppurtunity to remember what fanfiction was like before she came along and locked me in her basement. But I guess I never realized how much I loved her insane antics- I mean, really, did she need to bring in the Midol?- until I heard her as written by such a talent-deprived author. Hmm. Maybe... maybe I actually want to go back to her fics. At least in them, I don't have to sit in the sand and ponder aloud about the fics themselves. Like, a fic in which I think about the fic? That's confusing and stupid. I guess I should go apologize to Saint...

But as Fang went to make amends, a dark figure came out of nowhere and tackled him...

Fang: Ach! Eraser! Flyboy! M-Geek!

Dark Figure: *high pitched giggle* No, silly, I'm...

Fang: *le gasp* A FANGIRL?

Random Fangirl: Squee! You recognized me! Clearly we were meant to be together!

Fang: Oh, um... yes, definitly. We were made for each other. But, the thing is, I'm married, so... I guess our love can never be.

Random Fangirl: ZOMG. You're married? To Max, right? That's so exciting! FAXNESS FOREVER!

Fang: Not to Max, actually.

Random Fangirl: What? That's, like, blasphemy or something! Don't tell me it's Iggy! 'Cause my best friend is such a Figgy fangirl, and I keep telling her that's it'll never happen because YOU WERE BORN TO LOVE MAX, DAMMIT! UNLESS YOU LOVE ME, IN WHICH CASE SCREW MAXIMUM AND KISS ME!

Fang: Woah, obsessed much? It's not Max, it's not Iggy, and it certainly isn't you! Have you ever read a fanfiction called Faintly Resembling a Wedding?

Random Fangirl: Oh, is that all? Please. I don't think a Skype wedding counts. Besides, even if it does, that story was half unintelligable.

Fang: Hey! That's not true! It was just sort of a 'you had to be there' thing!

Random Fangirl: But the author of this fic wasn't there! She got lost about halfway through the fic!

Fang: Well then why would she choose to do a sequel of it?

Random Fangirl: Because obviously she isn't the brightest bulb in the candlabra! And neither are you, if you really think you're married to that girl!

Saint: *appears out of nowhere* HEY! Are you terrorizing my husband?

Random Fangirl: He's not your husband, he's my future love!

*****Please Stand By*****

Fang: Don't you think you went a little hard on her?

Saint: Eh, she'll be okay. With proper medicalcare and a few years of therapy, that is.

Fang: If you say so. But this fic made me realize something.

Saint: What?

Fang: As much torture as you put me through, I actually have grown to... tolerate your insanity and wouldn't change any of it. Except maybe a little less embarrassment. But nothing else.

Saint: Aw, Fang. That's so sweet! I have the sudden urge to make this story the winner despite the fact that it has no plot, isn't funny, and is seriously making me start to wonder for the writer's mental health.

Fang: Subliminal messaging for the win, heh. But quick question. Why did we just go to the beach for a day and call it a 'honeymoon'? Aren't these things traditionally longer?

Saint: Well, we didn't have the money to do a real vacation of any sort.

Fang: Why not?

Saint: I finally paid your child support.

A/N: Can you believe it? The child support finally got paid! (Even if Fang's wife did have to do it for him).

LOL, and apologies to St. Fang of Boredom for completely tearing her stories apart. Anything I put in here was intended as a joke; nothing mean, I promise ;)! I do totally love her stories, even if Faintly Resembling a Wedding left my head spinning. So, of course, when I had to pick a one-shot to do a sequel of, I chose that one. Just the kind of girl I am.

This is actually really bad, but I'm posting it anyway 'cause it was fun to write and plus I said I was participating in this contest on Saint's poll and when I vote for something I vote with passion, baby!

Again, I don't own any of Saint's original stuff. Spiffy and Pooky, the Midol, the child support. All things I ripped from her fics to create this abomination. Go read her stuff if you don't understand.