A/N: Oh god. The first thing I post in months and it's this. Someone please take my computer away from me. Ok, obviously this is a parody so the characters are really OOC and basically opposites of themselves. No hate, I just aim to make you all laugh, or at least convince you of my insanity. -Larkyn

No one, I MEAN NO ONE, dumps me. Not even everybody in the universe loves me St. Stupid Clair. HE WILL FEEL MY WRATH. Oh yes, he will suffer, along with that gap tooth hooker he got with behind my back. I bet she spews spit every time she talks. That is, when she's not busy drooling over MY BOYFRIEND. Sure we were pretty much hopeless, and I was planning on breaking up with him once school was out, but he dumped me and now things are serious. So much so that I need to get to Lambert ASAP for some major scheming.

Grabbing my Gucci scarf (I just got it; it's purple!) and purse, I storm out of my apartment, adding a dramatic door slam for effect, and practically run through Paris to get to SOAP. Getting in unnoticed is easy enough, but as I ease up to Nate's office, I struggle to figure out how to make it in and out with what I want.

Hmmm maybe I could get some paint balls and hit his window... Or find a drum set and bang around (with the drums you pervert)... Or set some wild ducks lose, but for that I would have to go all the way back to my apartment and get my cage full of rabid ducks, and that just seems like to much work, so- "NATE!" Some student who looks vaguely familiar (I probably don't remember who they are since I don't associate with the scum here anymore), runs to Nate's door. "There's a fight!"

Immediately, Nate sticks his head out the door and-Wait, did he just sniff the air? "Third floor?"

The forgettable student wrinkles his forehead in confusion. "Umm, yeah." And they take off like Batman and Robin into the elevator.

This is just perfect. It's like the universe is on my side for once, encouraging me to enact my revenge. Rock on universe. I sprint into Nate's office, and right to the massive cork board holding fifty keys in cute little lines. My eyes dart past dozens of useless names until I zone in on one like a tiger ready for the kill. Grrrr. I snatch the key hanging under a red label that reads Oliphant, Anna, check the list of room assignments pinned up next to the keys, and skedaddle.

I race up the stairwell to Anna's room, where I don't even bother knocking, because she and my boyfriend are probably out banging behind a dumpster for all I know. I enter the room, and unless she is hiding in the closet with an axe, waiting to pop out, she isn't here. I sit down at her desk, and start going through her annoyingly neat drawers. Nothing but receipts from 2005 and elementary school papers about-I'VE DONE IT. I'VE STRUCK GOLD, AND NOT BY PICKING MY NOSE THIS TIME!

I pull out a small notebook, only the rings are on the wrong side of it. Stupid girl can't even buy a proper notebook. I open it to the first page, which is dated in late February. Something about Scooby-Doo 2 and how awesome it is. I cringe and flip through the rest until a strange word catches my eye: Étienne? What the hell is that? I read on. It turns out all she writes about is her (his?) hair, and how silky it is, and how much she wants to touch it. She even said that she wants to lick it one entry. Gross.

In another passage she mentions how in love she is... with her/his hair. I groan, and flip to the next entry:

I SWEAR TO GOD IF ÉTIENNE ST. CLAIR COMES WITHIN A 2 MILE RADIUS OF ME AGAIN I'M GOING TO MAUL HIM AND PET HIS BEAUTIFUL LITTLE HEAD.

Wait-ST. CLAIR?! MY ST. CLAIR? God, his first name is Étienne? Eww I can't believe I dated him.

Out of frustration, I throw the dysfunctional diary at the wall, where it then falls on top of a bunch of banana and elephant figurines. Oh yeah, this girl is such a slut, and sluts like her don't deserve boyfriends, even if they are as awful as St. Clair.

And then it hits me like that bicycle did last Spring while I was crossing the street.

I know exactly how to enact my revenge.

I return the key to Nate's office and snag another just in time, because I hear his condensing lecture voice booming at the end of the hallway. Quickly darting into the stairwell, I proceed to sit for five, maybe six hours. Yes, It's insanely boring (really, I'd rather be shucking corn), but I pass the time by blowing bubbles with my huge wad of gum until my jaw aches.

At around 3 A.M. I rise like the kickass zombie I am, and make my way to St. Clair's room. I hope he's asleep, but if he isn't I always have my feminine charms. I push the door open and, oh shit all the lights are on and he's sobbing in bed. "Ah-na, why don't you love MEEEEEEEE?!" He cries, not even noticing my stunning presence until I'm practically on top of him. But in a totally platonic I hate you way. "Ellen?" He sniffles. "What are you doing-?"

I take out the fist size wad of gum in my mouth, and slap it on top of his ugly little head. "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET YOU WHORE!" I scream and run all the way to my other boyfriend, Pierre, on the other side of town where we have sex for hours on end. Around eight I draw myself away, saying I have some business I have to attend to, and dash back off to SOAP. Coming up on the cafeteria, I duck around the side, and spy on the gang through an open window. My eyes immediately dart to the only bald head in the building. St. Clair.

I smile as I watch his little defeated face shrivel up, holding back tears. Gap tooth enters a few seconds later looking just as sad, but unlike St. Clair she actually breaks out sobbing when she sees St. Clair's shiny head. "THE HAIR! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE HAIR?!" She screams out, running to St. Clair. She stretches out her hand as if to touch his reflective head, but pulls back at the last second in disgust. "I can't believe you killed the hair." She whispers

"Killed?" He raises his eyebrows, the only bits of hair he has on his ugly head left. "Hair isn't living Ah-na, and it wasn't me. Ellen stormed into my room in the middle of the night, and stuck a rock wad of gum in my hair. I wasn't well going to walk around like that!"

"YES YOU WERE. YOU WERE TO DO ANYTHING TO KEEP THE HAIR. I WAS IN LOVE WITH THAT HAIR. NOW I HAVE NOTHING." She screams at him in front of everyone, I swear I see spit flying, before dramatically fake dying.

"Wait..." St. Clair mumbles, clicking pieces together in that terribly slow head of his. "YOU ONLY LOVED ME FOR MY HAIR?!" No response. He kicks her side, but she still is lying on the cold hard ground. Oh. Oh. Trouble, TROUBLE, TROUBLE! Man, I love Taylor Swift.

St. Clair bends down to check her pulse. It takes him about five minutes to find it since he's such a dimwit, but he does eventually. "Shite, she's dead." He mutters.

"That's ok St. Clair!" Josh pushes through the surrounding crowd, a spotlight shines only on him. "NOW WE CAN BE TOGETHER!"

"I THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER ASK!" They do a slo-mo run while corny nineties pop plays in the background. They share a peck on the lips, and Josh's leg even pops up. True love. They skip out of the cafeteria hand in hand. As I duck around to the front, I see them admiring a rainbow in the sky, at least until St. Clair gets hit by a bunch of bikers competing in the Tour de France. I smile and wave to them as they pass, and continually run over St. Clair in the process. I look up at the sky to admire the rainbow (It's a fine ass rainbow. Trust me.), and know that I did a good dead-I meant deed-today.

I am Ellie, Slayer of the Cheater and the Boyfriend Steeler, and I am one awesome bitch.