Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They are the property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. No money is made from this. It is purely for enjoyment (but it may not be your cup of tea) purposes.
AN: I have always been fascinated with the concept of the Mary Sue. I can see why some readers and writers try to avoid them as much as possible. Used correctly, I think they can be great comedic value. So, I set myself a challenge; write a story with the hallmarks of a Mary Sue OC (based on the litmus test), but with a humourous spin and an unexpected ending. Three years later, this is my response to the self imposed challenge. Not too sure if it worked, especially on the comedy front, but this will probably be a hit or a miss. In no way, shape or form is any of this meant to be taken seriously; my tongue was stapled, super glued, soldered and sticky-taped to my cheek as I planned this out. Hope y'all enjoy, and maybe even have a giggle at it.
The Name's Sue, Mary Sue
There are many things that could bring International Rescue to its knees. But she never thought it would have been this.
0830 hours
The Lounge, Tracy Island
Tin-Tin Kyrano sat on the sofa in a huff. Her arms were crossed tightly over her stomach, pulling her already low cut top further down, revealing the swell of her breasts. Not that any of the boys noticed. Not even Alan, and he always tried to sneak a peek from behind his racing magazine when that happened. The rejection felt like a slap in the face. In fact, Tin-Tin wagered that she could parade around the room stark naked and the boys wouldn't even bat an eyelid in her direction.
She was after their money, or even worse, their secret. Tin-Tin could feel it in her waters. The girl that had hoodwinked everyone but her, and quite possibly Grandma, was no good.
That gold-digging harlot had achieved the impossible. Well, yes, Tin-Tin could understand the boys being taken by her; after all, they were stuck on an island with no female contact for months on end (and, as Gordon had pointed out to her so many times before, they were red blooded Tracy men who had needs that an inflatable woman couldn't satisfy). But it didn't stop her from wishing that Scott, John (who was salivating over her through Thunderbird Five's video link), Virgil, Gordon and Alan would think with their heads instead of their hormones. Mr Tracy, Tin-Tin thought, ought to have shown more restraint, but he was hanging off every word she spoke like she was the Oracle of Delphi or some other divine being. Even Brains had ventured out of the lab, and more surprising that that was that the young genius was smitten with the Island Invader.
That annoying, sugar spun voice broke into her thoughts.
Stupid, little… Tin-Tin thought of some more uncharitable words to describe the boys' latest chew toy.
The minx was leaving the lounge area, though, heading towards one of the guest sleeping quarters.
About time too! You'll stay there, if you're smart enough to know what's good for you, although I highly doubt that! You have the brain capacity of an amoeba!
"Wow," Virgil sighed dreamily, staring at her back and looking very much like he had fallen head over heels in love. "Did you hear her voice? All high, sweet and sugary? Turns my insides to jelly."
"Did you see her body? I bet her skin is as soft as silk." Gordon's eyes were practically falling out of his head. "Like peaches and cream, with shimmering, silver hair."
"Did you see her eyes? Those emerald green eyes?" John joined in the sighing party. "I don't think I've ever seen anything sparkle so much. Wow… beautiful."
"She smells of vanilla, chocolate and apple pie. Absolutely divine." Scott's head drifted off into Lala Land as he sniffed the air like a hound dog, behaving like he was slightly intoxicated. "Our babies will be smart, beautiful, and smell good too."
Tin-Tin wanted to vomit as they droned on, oblivious to her less than content state. This was too much for her to handle. Not that she was jealous, or anything. It was just that the Charleton was playing them for fools, and that grated on Tin-Tin's already frazzled nerves. Tin-Tin also wondered how many times the boys could use the word 'beautiful' when they described the scheming woman. After hitting double digits, Tin-Tin lost count and vowed to buy them a thesaurus each as a birthday present, so that they could use synonyms when describing the Island Invader.
"You lot are pathetic!" she snapped, finally garnering their attention. "Drooling all over her when you don't even know the first thing about her!"
Jeff seemed to take that under consideration. "But, Tin-Tin, she doesn't know the first thing about herself. How are we expected to know if she doesn't?"
"A-a-amnesia is, uh, a p-particularly hard to, uh, solve," Brains piped up. Now that the interloper had left the room, his stutter had reappeared in his speech, more pronounced than ever before. "We, uh, do not know what will, uh, trigger her memories."
Tin-Tin snorted. Well, wasn't that convenient?
"Her name, then," Tin-Tin scoffed. "She must know that, at the very least."
Gordon shook his head sadly. "Not even that."
"I thought she looked like a Mary," Alan supplied, brain finally kicking into gear to let him string coherent sentences together.
"Really?" Virgil puckered his eyebrows into a frown. "I thought she was more of a Sue."
"Mary!" Alan insisted forcefully, pouting to emphasise his point.
"Sue!" Virgil argued just as fiercely.
"Mary!"
"Sue!"
"Here's an idea," Scott's voice boomed over the argument that was about to break out. "As a temporary name, why don't we call her Mary Sue?"
As Scott's word was law to his younger brothers, the argument was solved and the Island Invader was christened Mary Sue.
"Mary Sue," Alan sighed, much like his brothers had before him. "She's the most beautiful angel I've ever laid eyes on."
"Leered at, more like," Tin-Tin sniped, trying, and failing, to keep jealousy out of her voice.
The cogs turned in Alan's mind, but he eventually worked out why Tin-Tin was so upset.
"Don't worry, honey," he prattled on, unaware that he was about to step on the proverbial land mine. Not even his brothers shaking their head, running and ducking for cover deterred him in his spiel. "You're still pretty. Not beautiful like Mary Sue, but you can still turn heads."
Tin-Tin could only stare at the ignorant twit, mouth agape. That wasn't what he had said last night, when they were wrapped around each other as tightly as a vine. He had told her that she was absolutely perfect in every single way, and that no one else would ever compare to her. Huh. How things changed over the space of a morning.
"Oh yeah?" Tin-Tin snarled, jabbing a pointy fingernail straight into Alan's chest. "I've got news for you, buddy boy; she is way out of your league."
With her final words spoken, Tin-Tin tornadoed her way out of the lounge, wishing that the Sun had remained sleeping instead of rising, wishing that Mr Tracy had left Mary Sue out on the beach to shrivel up like a prune on the beach instead of bringing her in like a stray cat.