I knew that she was trouble the moment I first saw her.
This girl, Stephenie Meyer (Or as most call her, "Bella"), would, however, become much more of a threat to the world of literature than I could have ever imagined.
But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself.
I am Tyler's Van, and I cannot help but pride myself in my taste in literature. And quite frankly, the frequent mention of Wuthering Heights and Romeo and Juliet in this series (that's right, series, not "saga." No heroic exploits here, folks!) irks me.
...I apologize, I am a very troubled vehicle. I digress.
To be blunt, the book in which I am forced to reside incidentally sucks.
I plan to rid the world of this book (and I use the term "book" loosely). It deserves better. The world, that is.
And I shall exterminate this book even if I must do it one lousy, codependent character at a time.
If the author favored me at all, this would be the part where she stopped to describe how impossibly blue I am, or how dazzling my windshield wipers are. I have concluded that having an actual personality is worth the loss of such a description.
I am Tyler's Van, and this is my story.
It began only weeks ago, when this "Bella" first arrived in Forks.
At first, I was hesitant to make assumptions of her intentions. After all, a Mary Sue is a terrible device to assume one to be. Especially one who is physically flawless.
Clumsy.
Inhumanly attractive.
Smart. (?)
And a self insert of the author.
...Crap.
I watched her, this Bella Sue, as closely as possible. This was rather difficult when she exceeded the school parking lot. I received a few strange glances when I was spotted looking in her classroom window. I decided to lay low. Mother has frequently warned me of my paranoid nature, and I should be wary of it.
...But this girl! If mother could see her now, tripping over flat surfaces in such a cutesy manner, she would understand.
It was then I knew that I must rid the world of this Sue. (I didn't mean for that to rhyme...I swear.)
And I knew just how to do it.