"Hello?" he said, peering into the darkness. "Anyone?"
There was an overly theatrical thoom as a bank of lights lit up around the circular room, partially revealing the dozens of people sitting behind curved desks, all deadly silent and staring at him. After a few seconds, one spoke.
Jonathan "Jonn" Wood, alias "mcity", alias "deepq", alias "OCP: the occasional pundit".
"Guilty as charged," said Jonn jauntily, exactly as protagonists were supposed to do in this situation. "If it's not too much trouble, might I impose upon your majesties to tell me what I'm doing here?"
The strawberry-blonde woman who had addressed him smiled. "Mr. Wood, you have been recruited for a very special oppurtunity. To put it bluntly, we are the people who hunt down Mary Sues. Or, rather, the commanding officers."
"I've heard of you," replied Jonn. "Tviokh in Harry Potter and ShadowSlayer21 in Pirates of the Carribean, right?"
"Correct," said another, this one a grey-bearded, middle-aged man. "But those, while successful, were just small scale prototypes. What we need is, well, a police force. The Anti-Sue Police. ASP."
"Nice name."
"Thank you. If you choose to join this force, you will recieve, after training and a test mission, advanced anti-Sue weaponry, and full access to our media library, as well as a badge and a cool uniform. You will also be returned to whatever you would have been doing if not interuppted, a robotic doppleganger having taken your place while you were gone.
"Wait, how can I go on missions. We're talking, with the exception of possibly a Seabiscuit Sue, about fiction here. It does not exist."
A man in a dark suit, dark glasses, and a bad haircut smiled tightly. "Allow me to inform you, Mr. Wood," he said in a voice like oil dripping down the gears of a clock, "that the power of many, many people suspending disbelief can produce dramatic results. When you watched 'Peter Pan', did you clap your hands?"
Jonn grinned, ducking his head to keep the silent ranks from seeing his burning cheeks; he had indeed.
"My point being that all you need to do is pretend what you are doing is real. Once you begin to slip, you loose any effectiveness you may have had to this organization." The man behind the voice grinned unnaturally. "In a manner of speaking, free your mind."
"Got it. Anything else I should know?"
A spotlight came up on a small table, and Jonn walked over to it. "You will recieve the standard issue cadet loadout; one standard uniform: in black and blue, your favorite colors; one pair of standard issue "Knuckleduster" anti-Sue stunblasters and melee weapons. Oh, and a cadet-level badge."
"What, exactly, am I fighting to destroy?" asked Jonn, strapping on the blasters. "I mean, most Sues are twinked-out, godmoding, impossible to kill, canon-warping figments of some twisted Suethour's imagination. How can I kill them?"
"They need not be killed, simply defeated. All you need to do is find their Achilles Heel, what makes someone, somewhere, decide to insert themselves into the canon, and distort it past nearly all recognition. This is represented by an object, usually hidden on a Sue's person or nearby. Desire for escapism would be represented by a twenty-sided die. Inability to make up anything original would be a dry, hardened paintbrush. Someone as smart as you should be able to find and recognize it easily."
Jonn preened.
"Your first assignment will be in a fandom you are very familiar with. Good luck."
"What fandom would that be?" said Jonn, as three rings of light dropped from nowhere around his body. He heard, faintly, the strains of slightly obnoxious Japanese synthpop.
"You have got to be f-"
And then he disappeared.