Disclaimer: This is a farce. We all know the truth. I did not outbid Steven Schwartz on E-bay. Yet.

Morning, the young author decided, was far too bright.

"Wakey-wakey, sunshine," a highly familiar voice cooed in a most annoying manner.

The Pixess, not bothering to look at him or even open her eyes, muttered, "Go away, fictional manifestation of my subconscious, I do not desire an audience with you." Only, it was nine in the morning on a Saturday, so it came out more like: "Boo."

"Aw, Pixie," Fiyero Tiggular crooned as said person smushed her pillow to her face. "Don't be like that- really, I have very important business to discuss with you."

"Bugger" was the response he got. Well, possibly. The articulation on the first letter hadn't been very clear. Nonetheless, Fiyero took this as consent to press on with whatever matters had prompted him to (attempt) to wake the young authoress at such a bleeding hour. "Take a look at the thread list of Wicked fics on fanfiction dot net," he said, propping himself at the edge of her bed, "and what do you see?"

Pixie rolled over. "'Laptop's over there, moron," she grunted, before shutting her eyes again.

Fiyero jumped up. "I'll tell you what you see! Drama, drama, non-grammar bunk, drama/romance, general, boring psychology analysis of the ruby slippers, drama…"

Pixess blearily opened an eyeball. "Are you seriously reading from the list?"

"Well," he said hesitantly, "no. But you get my point."

"No, not really," she said, picking up her alarm clock. "Gawsh, why are you up so friggin early? And dressed, for that matter? And…like…not in Oz?"

"Don't ask me, I'm simply a pawn in a much bigger game," the Prince announced melodramatically.

Pixie blinked. "Yeah," she said disinterestedly, rearranging her pillow into a more comfortable position. "Go away."

"No."

"Obstinacy on you is very OOC, you know."

"Your dream, not mine."

"Oh is that what this is?"

"No."

"Dang, I was going to turn you into Jamie Campbell Bower. Only straightedge."

Fiyero shuddered on behalf of the movie!Anthony and pressed onward: "Just answer me this, oh Pixess," he asked with further OOC drama-queened-ness, "WHERE HAVE ALL THE HUMOR FICS GONE?!"

The Pixess blinked once. Twice.

"Up your nose," she responded with a great deal of dignity, before pulling her checked quilt back over her head.

Fiyero snatched back again. "No, seriously! What have you read recently on there that's made you laugh?!"

Pixie sat up, looking very, very irritated. Possibly because she still had bedhead. The Pixess was very sensitive about her hair. "Lessee," she said in her Cranky Voice, "'Ozmopolitan Says' got updated, 'Banging,' got updated, I know somebody updated a musical parody a 'lil while ago, Faba had some very cute drabbles, and LostOzian posted a oneshot." She tossed her bedhead-y tresses in a very Galindaified manner. "Happy?"

"No!" Fiyero whined. "It was all just a happy coincidence that all those things got updated at the same time! The truth is, the Wicked section has been barren of humor for ages!"

Pixie quirked an eyebrow. "If you've come to tell me I'm the Chosen One to lead the Wicked Community out of the Dark Depths of Purple Prose that has Engulfed the Readers of Innocence, that I'm the only thing standing between all that is Good in fanfiction before Mary Sues who don't know how to spell take over with False Climaxes and Pointless Plots of Doom!, than I seriously need to stop eating Cheetos right before I go to bed."

"Oh, whatever, you know you can't resist the cheesy goodness," Fiyero said in disgust. "All I'm asking is-"

"Do you realize that's the only in-character thing you've said since you woke me up?'

"ALL I'M ASKING IS," Fiyero said in a louder tone, "Is that you contribute more towards fics that, as our friends from Spamalot would say, look on the brighter side of life."

"You know the Spamalot people?" Pixie was intrigued. "Do Crope and Tibbett know about this? I know at least one of them has been trying to get in contact with Tim Curry to help convince a producer to let them be in a revival of Rocky-"

"Hush!" The Prince cried out rather randomly. Then he elaborated: "You aren't supposed to mention real people in fanfics! This is what I'm talking about! Do you SEE what this site has been degraded to?!!"

Pixie stretched, wishing the icky sun would go back down. "I'm not online, Sir Obvious," she grumbled. "And I've contributed quite recently to this section, thank you very much."

"Yeah," Fiyero said, sounding as if he had just discovered that his salad had been presented to him with a large cockroach in the middle, ala "Victor/Victoria", "Dramas."

"You seem to be pretty dramatic yourself right now," The Pixess observed.

"I think I have the right to be!" Fiyero exclaimed wildly. "If no one makes fun of what goes on in this section anymore, who is to keep it in check? Flamers get bored, after awhile they'll just give up, and then who will keep the Evil MarySue from her quest of Fictional World domination?!"

"The Muffin Man?" Pixie suggested helpfully.

Fiyero made a noise of exasperation.

"Dude, why don't you go bug LostOzian?" her fellow authoress demanded. "She's the author who won an award for her humor story. Or Sale, she owns the funny, she even does cartoons."

"Because LostOzian put me in a dress," Yero replied stoutly, "and Sale denied me making out with Elphie at some sports event."

"You were both ten," The Pixess pointed out.

"And?"

Pixie was appalled. "And Allan Ric-"

"AH AH AH-"

"Judge Turpin," Pixie amended, "Plays that part better than you, sicko." She sat up in bed. "You do know that it was me who INSPIRED LostOzian to put you in a dress, correct? So if that's your fear you should probably run far, far, away and leave me to Slumberland?"

"If that's anywhere near as crackhead as Cyberland, I think I'm doing you a favor."

"Fiyero!"

"You inspired her, but you only inspired her with one chapter. She put me in a dress for seventeen chapters."

"I locked you in a closet!"

"Again, for one chapter."

"Technically three! And I left you on a cliffhanger!"

"I don't care, it's a romantic comedy, I knew what was going to happen in the end."

"I made you talk bigoted in another fic!"

"You made a cat fall asleep on my head."

"It left claw marks!"

"Which earned me a kiss from Elphie." Fiyero shook his head, pity reflected in his eyes. "Face it, Pix, when it comes to parodies, you're not all that malicious. In fact, I'd go so far as generous with what happens to your characters."

"Tell that to Boq," grumbled Pixie.

"Boq would have come himself, except he's too busy doing random, smutty things to Nessa in grey-eyed-goddess' crackfic," Fiyero informed her. "Elphaba would have, too, but if we'd let all that sarcasm in a room together a whole in the space/time continuum would have opened up."

"Like when you jaywalk with a Starbucks on each side on the road?"

"Exactly."

The Pixess very much wished to be unconscious again. "I posted two fics within a week of each other. That, for me, is epic. You should be proud. And, more importantly, leave me alone."

"Yeah, one was a present to a friend with a pairing you don't even support, and the other was an OC sob story," Fiyero said, not sounding at all pleased. "And how many other funny stories have you written since Scottie Dog Blues was finished?"

"Femslash had its moments!" insisted the sleepy Pixie.

"Oh, wow," Fiyero said in such a sardonic tone that Elphaba would have been proud, "A pickle joke. That's originalAnd you finished that before Scottie."

"You're just mad you weren't the center of attention."

"Yes, that was rather annoying."

"Master Fiyero, I wish to inform you that you are definitely getting some of your own back, because I don't think you could annoy me more right now if you tried."

"Even if I spread it all over the web that you sleep with one of your precious Kiamo Ko Kens?"

"Milton is a Boqie Doll, idiot," she said defensively, hiding him beneath her comforter. "And I'm proud of him, thank you very much."

Fiyero cocked his head to the side, in the manner that one who has a brain might use when thinking. "Has anyone ever told you that you look an awful lot like Bernadette Peters? Well, if your hair weren't as frizzy, it looks more Annie right now than Annie Get Your Gun-"

Pixie threw a pillow at him. "You aren't supposed to mention real people, dolt."

"You're not online, Captian Obvious," Fiyero pointed out gleefully.

The Pixess turned thoughtful. "You're right…" she said slowly. "I'm not. We are, in fact, all alone…together…"

"Isn't that an oxymoron?!" Fiyero asked frantically, disconcerted by the sudden, almost familiar state of mind the female author seemed to be taking on.

"You know, Yero my Hero," she purred, "This whole conversation could be used as a parody, if I typed it up. Only…it seems to be missing something…a lack of focus? No, no, I know!" Her grin could be described with one adjective- wicked. "Romance."

Fiyero fell over himself as he recoiled in horror. "No, no!" he screamed. "It's an epidemic! SAVE ME ELPHIE SAAAAAAVE MEEEEEEEE!" and with that he vanished in a puff of green smoke.

Utterly unconcerned at this turn of events, Pixie began to fluff her pillow again. She set it down again, and as she rested her red head upon it smiled as she realized, at long last, acting like a Mary Sue had come in handy.

A/N: My apologizes for making you go through that…still, Fiyero challenges YOU! Not only to write, but to REVIEW!