This is a complete and total parody of Maze Runners. If you are a seriously hardcore fan who doesn't like the basic math and the like being criticized, I do not recommend you read this.

It was also written in the dead of night with my eyes closed as I was typing more often than not.

Disclaimer: I do not own Maze Runners. Even MY NaNoWriMo was less selfish than this ending. And my characters didn't just FORGET when their best friend died.

YAY!

"You are now on the ground floor."

The boy jumped at the Google Translate-ine voice that sounded all around him. Then, underneath him, the ground started MOVING!

"Motherfucker!" the boy screamed. Then he stopped. Where was he? This was an...

"Elevator, dear," said the voice. There was a big pause after the word 'dear.' Typical technology these days. "And your name is Thomas," the voice informed him.

Newly named Thomas - because 'the boy' is an incredibly annoying word to type - felt an inexplicable stab of disappointment. Just Thomas?

Wait a second... he realized that he didn't have any memories. He didn't even remember if he was a boy or a girl. Thomas quickly checked his pants to make sure. Yep, there was his penis - it was just a very small penis. Somewhere around the size of his pinkie finger. Oh, well. Looks didn't really matter...

The elevator was still creaking and rising. Some technology these motherfuckers have.

Finally the elevator groaned t o as top. It had taken six hours. Thomas had switched between the act of throwing a tantrum and curling up in the fetal position and bawling for mommy. Once he even crapped his pants.

"You are now on Level Two," the voice announced. A door straight above him opened into fluorescent daylight.

"Ooooh, a mothershucker!" said a voice.

"How many Description Points he gonna get?"

"You kidding? Clint didn't get none, and he's actually rememberable..."

"It smells like KLUNK in there!"

"Can I eat it?"

"No, idiot. Klunk is not for eating. Unless we're gonna banish you. Then you can eat Griever klunk."

"But... but the..."

Thomas blinked in surprise. What the motherhell where these bastards saying? Mothershucker? Klunk?Griever? THE!? What the motherfuck does that mean?

"Hi?" Thomas called up, trying to be friendly. But seriously, these were a pretty scary bunch. They were... kids.

"Hey!" a boy called down. "Here, get on!" A whirring, blue, mechanic ladder descended into the elevator. The moment Thomas touched it, it whirred some more before securing its robot arms around him and brought him safely into a big cluster of boys.

"Um... that was cool," Thomas managed. Then he asked the question burning in his mind. "Why couldn't you get some oil for the elevator if you can get that fancy motherfucker?"

"'Motherfucker'? You got some sort of accent?" asked the boy in front of him.

"Maybe he'll get some more description points then!" another boy yelled.

"I don't have an accent," said Thomas, trying to sound refined in front of all these kids who were clearly ruffians. "Motherfucker is a word, don't you know that?"

"Hey, it's mother shucker. Get your shuck words straight."

"Okay... what are description points?" Thomas asked. He'd already forgot that he had no memory. This new vocabulary was exciting.

"Here, let me show you," said the boy in front of him. The boy had (1) short hair and he was (2) African-American (but we're just gonna say 'black' now because in the last 10 years there had been some serious plate tectonics going on and now there are no longer any actual countries. OOOOOOOHH FEEL THE FORESHADOWING). He was also (3) about 18 years old.

"Um... show me what?" Thomas asked after about fifteen minutes of silence.

"The readers will understand," said another boy. This boy had (1) black hair.

"Shut your hole, Gally!" the first boy yelled. Then he turned back to Thomas. "Hi, I'm Alby. What's your name?"

"Pleased to meet you," Thomas said, sticking out his hand. Alby looked at him like he was nuts. "Uh, I'm Thomas."

"No, he's a GREENBEAN!" someone shouted.

"I told you the term was lima bean, shuckface!"

"No, Chuck, it's greenbean. Shuck, how stupid are you?"

"You guys! Slim it!" another boy yelled. "You're really confusing Thomas here!"

"And confusing the readers," the boy called Gally muttered.

"Thomas is stupid, Newt, he hasn't even picked up on our 'slang,'" Alby said as yet another boy approached.

"No, I think what's wrong with him is that he shows absolutely no bloody emotions about losing his memories," said Newt. "Hi, Thomas, I'm Newt, and I've got more description points than anybody in the bloody glade." Newt was (1) taller than Alby, (2) had long blonde hair, (3) spoke with a British accent/said 'bloody' a lot for the hell of it, (4) limped, and was (5) (the square root of -1) years old.

"Too many parentheses for one sentence," Gally said, seemingly out of the blue.

"Okay, shuckface, it's time for you to go to bed," said Alby. "You've had a long day. I think it's lasted... five minutes. Maybe. Now go find Chuck - he's the only person in the glade younger than sixteen - and he can help you go to sleep. You know, sing you shuck bedtime songs and stuff."

"Okay!" Thomas said happily. He went and found the boy Chuck - description points, (1) he was twelve, (2) he was overweight, (3) he had brown hair, and (4) he had blue eyes. He just didn't get as many adjectives as Newt.

"Hi," said Chuck. "I've been here for a month."

"You have? Have all you also lost your memories?" asked Thomas, as all the fifty other boys walked away.

"Yeah. One person comes every month... been happening for two years now."

"No, Chuck, that's wrong," said a voice. Thomas turned around. It was Gally. Motherfucker.

"No, it's right!" Chuck protested. "Alby and Newt said so!"

"Newt is inconsistent!" Gally yelled. "The math doesn't add up!"

"You're just jealous 'cause he's got more description points than you!" Chuck yelled back. "And you're nuts ever since you went through the Changing."

"Low blow," Thomas muttered. Then he remembered that he didn't know what the Changing is.

"That is improper grammar!" Gally screamed. "And you're mean!" He stomped away, before calling over his shoulder, "You're different, Thomas! You're a mothershucking protagonist!"

"What the motherhell?" Thomas asked. He tried to tone down his bad language habits in front of Chuck. Poor bastard was just a kid, after all.

"He's been talking like that ever since he got stung by a Griever. Says stuff like 'grammar' and 'character development' and 'klunky backstory' and stuff like that," Chuck shrugged.

"Why does everyone use the word 'klunk' or 'shuck'?" Thomas asked. "I even heard someone say the word 'thuh' once. What does that mean?"

"Here, this is a dictionary of our HUGE shuck vocabulary," Chuck said, handing him a piece of paper. It read:

Sexy mother shucking dictionary

shuck = fuck, damn (conjugations: do not add 'ing'. 'shuck' and 'shuck it' are both acceptable. 'shuckface' is also a common insult).

klunk = crap, shit

shank = bitch, bastard (insult to a person)

slim it = shut up

"That's, uh... that's pretty complicated," Thomas said. "I don't think I can memorize all that."

"You have to," said Chuck.

"I don't want to," Thomas complained. "Why can't we just all use our own swear words?"

"'Cuz of the rules, shuckface," said Chuck. "You can only do that if your name is a noun."

"What's a noun? That sounds like one of Gally's words."

"Or was it an animal now? I forget... they're having another Gathering about it soon."

Thomas didn't know what was going on, so he curled up in the fetal position on the grass and went to sleep.

I've read the entire MR series, was definitely very disappointed, but we needn't get into that right now. I might do a parody of the full books, but don't expect anything about the series. And this isn't my best writing style - parody/crackfics are for when I'm bored and not up to standards on my usual Death Eater fic.

And I am making no sense, so I will leave by imploring you to review now. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!