Hi there! *waves at you in an annoyingly perky fashion* Because fic's are like books that you sadly don't have the next chapter for right away (if you follow from the start that is), I think you should kinda get to know what you're in for before you start, don't you think? I think it's only fair. So here are the basics of what you will encounter and/or not encounter in this fic should you decide to proceed.

This is comedy/romance but it does have its dramatic moments. With that being said, they are propelled by the comedy (unlike Glee itself) in an effort to make things flow and show off the great characters this mess of a show has created but has refused to develop. So, hopefully you will find the comedy funny but the goal of the fic isn't always 100% to make you laugh all the way through each chapter; like my fics Interruptions or Puffity Puff Puff. But if you like those fics, I think you'll like this one too. Basically, it's far more rounded because it's a full size fic instead of just a chapter or two. Huge portions of this story are already written and I know how it ends so it shouldn't just stop midway…In a nutshell, Ryan Murphy didn't write this.

This is a slow burn fic for sure. So, if you want them to be shluping the first chapter, it's not gonna happen with this fiction. There's lots of delicious tension and build up though! Who doesn't like build up? Oh yes right, RIB. ;)

Because there are a lot of reoccurring themes that pop up in Brittana fictions that I personally am not a fan of (and I know many are not a fan of), I have decided to make a small list of things you will NEVER run into in this fiction. Because who likes to read five chapters and everything is going great and then…DUCKS.

A small list of things you will surely NOT find in this fiction:

1) The blonde, The brunette, The dancer, THE LATINA, B, S, Sanny, Britty, DUCKS, Santana speaking Spanish and/or Spanish written without translations, Puck & Santana being best friends, Faberry, an abundance of random underdeveloped original characters, useless Glee characters being included with zero point to the story just because they are on Glee, Quinntana being best friends/previous lovers, skinny jeans (because seriously, there are other wardrobe options), Mike and Brittany being best friends, big chunks of song lyrics, graphic depictions of sex that doesn't involve both B&S, instant Brittany and Santana being so in love with each other that they know they're soulmates the second the see each other, ridiculously short chapters, zero spell check, Klaine, Bram, mentioning that I don't own Glee, wrapped her arm around her clit, one party (Santana or Brittany) ALWAYS being wrong no matter what, contrived drama out of nowhere, characters that are not Brittany and Santana being pushed to the forefront to the point that they are practically lead characters, and…

2) I will not be asking for reviews (even like I jokingly do for Interruptions), I appreciate them because they let me know that people are actually reading and I like reading people's reactions. But, I will not be asking each chapter for you to review. But please keep in mind (as I'm sure you already are well aware of) that many authors spend tons of their time that they could be spending watching the hurt locker or heart over and over, to write these stories. And personally, I think the least we can do is write a few thoughts down if we happened to enjoy the free entertainment. Like that little guilt trip? Me neither. LOL. This will not be a preachy or PSA laden fic. Therefore, that was my one and only guilt trip. :D

6-21-13 update: Sam is in this fiction. He doesn't have a big role but there is very much a point to it. If you absolutely can't handle his existence (even though he will be written as season 2 Sam and have NOTHING romantic with Santana or Brittany), then this fic probably isn't for you. He's the only guy on the show that fits the role I needed in the story, so that's why he's there.

If this sounds like something you would like to read, then here is chapter 1!

ENJOY! :D

Chapter 1: Umm…Da Fuck?

"Howdy neighbor, just thought I would bring you some fresh Tubbington poops as a nice to meet you gift." Well, that's a great first impression if I ever heard one.

"WHAT?!" David, my stocky husband, stood there in utter confusion about everything that was transpiring within the current situation he was unwillingly exposed to.

"Candy, they're Baby Ruth bars. As a kid I thought my cat pooped them."

"Who's Tubbington?"

"My pussy."

"You named your pussy Tubbington." He stated more than questioned.

"Lord Tubbington actually, you should meet him sometime. He can be a bit surly but when he gets used to you, he'll let you pet him."

"Your pussy is male?" She was about to answer but he cut her off. "Listen lady, I'm married. I don't wanna pet your pussy, okay?"

"I thought your name was Dave?"

"It is."

"So why are you saying you're married?"

"Because I am!"

"But you're Dave."

"My name is Dave and I am also married."

"Is that your last name?" And he finally cracked…

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHO CARES?! AND WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED ON MY PORCH?!" Did I forget to mention that she was in her birthday suit? Details.

"It's ninety degrees, why are you wearing a puffer jacket?"

"Because normal people don't walk around introducing themselves to new people in the nude."

"I'm plenty normal, I'm just not the average." He simply stood there baffled by what he had officially deemed the weirdest exchange of his life. "Anyway, please take my gift and share it with your husband, Mr. Married."

"Why the hell would I have a husband? And my last name is Karofsky! Not Married."

"I want you to know that I know you people drink more than vodka because there aren't a people on this earth that don't enjoy Coke. It brings us all together."

"WHAT?! What are you TALKING ABOUT?!" He practically shrieked in terror as she blabbed on.

"And you have to have a husband."

"No, I don't HAVE to have a husband! For the last time, I have a wife!" The nude fair haired person then proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly.

"You're funny Dave, I like you. You should come to my picnic this weekend. It'll be at my house across the street." She proceeded to point at the all white building with a brightly colored Volkswagen bus parked in front of it. "I really hope we can be friends." She took it upon herself to hand him a postcard sized invitation and then press her nude self up against him in a hug.

"OFF! GET OFF!"

"And you say you're not gay." She giggled. "I hope to see you there!" She smiled brightly and then walked back down the long driveway and out the giant gate.

"Damn security guards are good for nothing!" He picked up his cell and called the security booth that opened and closed the front gate. "HOW the HELL did that lunatic make it on my property?!"

"Dude, boobs man. Boobs."

"PUCK, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! You can't just let people in because they're naked!"

"Of course not, who would do that? Only the hot chicks make the cut! Am I right bro?" One could hear the high five Puck had hanging in the air via the stoked tone of his voice.

"PUCK! If my wife had seen that she would have killed me! That naked chick fucking hugged me! You know how ballistic Santana would have gone? That girl would be being buried in the backyard right as we speak!"

"Okay, okay! Don't piss your pampers dude; won't happen again. I'll make sure the hot naked chicks only end up in my bedroom."

"Fine by me, and Puck?"

"Yeah?"

"At least trim the damn mohawk man; it looks like a dead squirrel that just got ran over by a tank. Santana has been complaining that you will single-handedly destroy our A-list status by looking like such a Lima loser when 'guarding' the gate."

"Dude that's col-" And David hung up. This morning was farrrrr too eventful for his liking. He took a moment to collect himself and mentally delete that any of what just happened had actually happened. "No consistently naked girls live across the street from me." He repeated multiple times and then decided to go to the gym.

However, unbeknownst to him, he had made one slight mistake…

-Three hours and three Rodeo drive shopping sprees later-

"What in the God's name of Hell is this?! DAVID?!"

"What?" He rushed out of his office to see what the big hubbub was about, only to find the naked picnic invitation in my newly manicured hand. His mouth made an o shape and then his forehead proceeded to perspire at James Brown levels for good reason. One wrong move and this could lead to a reminder of my birthplace, Lima Heights Adjacent.

"You've got ten seconds to explain. Go."

"Umm there was this super weird white girl…You know I don't like white girls… remember…?"

"Keep going." I replied while crossing my arms and tapping my Jimmy Choo clad heel on the Italian marble floor I had paid a sewage plant sized shitload for.

"Well, she was completely in the nude and she was on my…" I glared. "OUR, doorstep because stupid Puckerman let her in because she was naked. And then she went on about bringing us candy that her pussy shitted and then kept calling me married and gave me that invite." I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed because… what in the fucking shit are you supposed to reply to that with?

"What. The. Fuck. David."

"I know! I wouldn't believe it either but that IS what happened! I told her to get off OUR property but then she hugged me and-"

"You let a naked girl who is not your wife hug you?"

"She vaulted her body at me! I couldn't stop her!"

"Now you sound like fucking PUCK! BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT! My hand slipped and went in her peesh like a heat-seeking missile!" I rolled my eyes. "You are the number three wide receiver in the NFL! I think you can fend off some nude white girl…Which by the way, why is his hair still like that?"

"I told him to cut it when I called to yell at him about his incompetence." I shook my head while looking at the invite again. It was written in crayon and then had a Polaroid of what one would assume was her ass on it. My first thought, after mentally uttering what the fuck to myself, was to the question what exercises she did to get it so firm and high. Let's not kid ourselves, mine was pretty impressive too, that's what a $2,500 a month trainer will get you. But her ass had undeniable height and buoyancy. One had to give the crazy bitch credit.

"We are going upstairs and you are going to stare at me naked in order to get the image of that whore out of your brain. You understand me?" God, I was an amazing wife. Only I would give my husband a punishment of tits. He played along via the pout on his face. I would reward him for that later. "And this…" I lifted up the full assed invitation. "Stay's right here. Tomorrow I'm going to march over there and shove it right up her perky derriere and YOU are going to cheer me on whilst informing her that I am much sexier than she could ever dream of being. You will also being wearing a 'My wife is always right' t-shirt as you do so. Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely."

"Good." I smirked at my complete and utter control as I placed the invite down on my overpriced, almost out of season coffee table. "This…" I gave it another glance. "Brittany, has no idea what's coming to her."

And it was true.

She didn't.

Crazy, yes? Oh trust me, things get even more batshit. Next chapter Santana is actually going to meet our favorite bicorn. :D Oh and by the way, this was the shortest chapter of the fiction. It's just the setup. :) Was my intro helpful or did you just skip it? I think Santana would have read it but Brittany would have skipped it. :D

Thanks for reading!