The scene is set in the lounge, and the Legionnaires are going about their daily lives as Legionnaires. Suddenly there is a flash of light and through a purple portal appear I, in all my resplendent glory-the author!!
"I am the author!" I cry, in-case they don't all realise. "And I have a stomach ache from eating too much icing sugar! You are all behaving in a tediously predictable Legionary fashion-I am here to put this right!" I scan the room and select my first victim. "Lightning Lad!"
Lightning Lad makes a noise like a choking camel and shrinks back to avoid the wrath of me, the sugar high author. "Me?"
"Why is your arm extended towards Cosmic Boy in a directional manner?"
"I am… about to shake his hand?" he suggests in the manner of a meek porcelain penguin.
"No! Surely that has been done before. Think again!"
I seems I have succeeded in intoxicating his sanity for a malicious grin spreads over the porcelain penguin's face. "I shall hypnotise him with my ham sandwich and use him as a foot rest!"
"Good," I pat my deranged Sparky on the head. Now for my next victim, oh, never before have I had such power, except perhaps during the geography project. "Brainiac 5!"
He makes a sound similar to Lightning Lad's, except this time it is a choking giraffe with a paper bag over its head. Of course he quickly composes himself. "Abnormal behaviour is quite unnecessary and anyway it would be unfitting for a 12th level intellect to act in such a way."
"Oh, Brainy, you're so adorable!" shriek I, the author, flinging my arms around the first fictional character I ever fell in love with. "But now to business. I shall break down your starchy personality until you are nothing but sweet glucose." I cackle at my knowledge of all things biological.
"What are you going to make me do?" he asks reproachfully.
I nearly hug him again, but resist the temptation, remembering my mission. "You have a guilty secret, my friend, and it is not just that you are only 12 years old. I know, I have the wikipedia page to prove it."
"I have not guilty secret!"
"You do!"
"I don't!"
"You do!"
"I don't!"
"You do!"
"I don't!"
"Oh, really? Then what happened on the 3rd of March at precisely 8:27 pm?"
He stops breathing for about 84 seconds, then falls to his knees. I've always wanted to see someone do that. "Ok, I admit it. I forgot something!"
"You? A 12th level intellect? Forgot?"
"Yes, it's true. For exactly 36.9111 nanoseconds I was unable to recollect a piece of information! Please don't let Lightning Lad short circuit me!" sobs my glucose particle, formerly a starch molecule.
"Oh, don't worry about old porcelain penguin, he's otherwise engaged." That's two down-how many more to go? Ah yes, Chameleon Boy the chameleon. "Aah, Chameleon Boy, may I call you Cham?"
"Of course," gushes the chameleon with eyes the size of teapots. "You know me, relaxed, laid back, chilled, fun-loving-"
"Quite," I cut him off. "Now I will turn you into a pedantic old fart. Ahaha!" this will not be easy. I, the evil author, must think-what turned me into the pedantic old fart I am today? Ah, yes. I reach out to take a book from a bookshelf tactfully placed to my right entitled 'Greek Myths'. "Read this, Teapot Eyes," I instruct.
"Yeah, you know me. I'm so laid back, always ready to try something new…"
A few hours later, during which the author has a shower, eats a bowl of crisps and talks on the phone to her vati…
Chameleon Cham enters the room. "Aah, greetings Teapot Cham!" cry I. Then I summon Saturn Girl with my immense geography project power. "Have a conversation!" roars the author, who is suddenly in a very bad mood because she has just cricked her neck.
Saturn Girl: Good morning, Cham.
Cham: it's the afternoon actually and my name is Chameleon Boy, thank-you.
Saturn Girl: Umm, how are you?
Cham: I didn't sleep that well last night and it's a bit chilly.
Saturn Girl: Is it half past 4?
Cham: Actually it's 28 minutes past 4.
My work as an evil, sugar high, neck cricked author is done :P, now I shall disappear back through a purple portal and watch 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' which interestingly has Jean Luc Picard and Data disguised as what are either Romulans or Vulcans. The two races look remarkably similar.