I honestly have no idea what this is. I was listening to a song and this random idea burrowed it's way into my stupid head and wouldn't leave. So, sorry in advance.

This drabble is based off the amazing musical Avenue Q - if you haven't heard of it, here's the link to the song featured here :D

watch?v=RovF1zsDoeM

Warning: May contain offensive material. I've double checked it and I don't THINK it's anything terrible, but just a heads up in case I get yelled at :') And a few small KOTW spoilers and Myra - bashing. Enjoy…or try your best…

CHAPTER ONE - EVERYONE'S A LITTLE BIT (MAGICALLY) RACIST

Thrasher leant back in a very nice Sanctuary chair, staring at the ceiling lights in mild fascination. There was a moth fluttering about up there…it looked so pretty…

Suddenly, the moth flew straight into the light and after a small whining sound, fell dead by Thrasher's feet. He squealed in horror. The poor, innocent moth -

"Geraaaaald!"

He snapped out of his trance and glanced up to see Clarabelle skipping towards him joyously.

"Hi, Clarabelle!" He beamed, his melancholy mood long forgotten as he sprang up - well, he tried to spring, then realised he'd probably lose his leg or something - and nodded at her.

"What'cha doing?" She asked interestedly and he shrugged.

"I've brought Dr. Nye all the White Cleaver's body parts and Master Scapegrace told me to get out of his way. I was looking at a moth, but it died."

"Oh dear." Clarabelle said miserably, staring at the insect mournfully, "That's quite a problem."

"I know."

There was a small silence as they contemplated the importance of life, then they beamed at each other. "I'm over it now. Let's do something fun. Can I style your hair?"

"Of course you can, Gerald!" She sat down in the chair and he started to braid her blue hair in delight.

"Hey, Clarabelle, can I ask you something?"

"Sure!"

"Well, you know how your hair is so deliciously blue?"

"Uh-huh."

"And Katy Perry's hair - that's blue too."

"Right."

"I was just wondering…Are you two related?"

"WHAT?" She stood up in shock, folding her arms, "Gerald, I'm surprised at you! I find that…racist!"

He gasped in horror, "Oh, no! I'm sorry! I was just asking!"

"Well, it's a touchy subject." She huffed, defensively flicking her hair back, "Just because we happen to be somewhat alike and have the same style does NOT mean we're related. She's also American for one thing!"

He stared at his shoes sheepishly as she continued, "You know, you should be much more careful when you're talking about the sensitive subject of race!"

He had started to nod in agreement, but suddenly frowned, "Hey - look who's talking!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what about you and Dr. Nye, huh? Could someone like me have your job?"

She giggled, "Well, no, silly! Nobody wants zombies here - Oh my!"

He laughed, pointing at her. "You see?

You're a little bit racist!"

"Well you're a little bit too!" She retorted, blushing slightly.

"I guess we're both a little bit racist…"

"Admitting it is not an easy thing to do!"

"But I guess it's true."

"Between me and you, I think -"

"Everyone's a little bit racist, sometimes

Doesn't mean we go around committing

Hate cri-i-i-mes!

Look around and you will find

No one's really colour blind

Maybe it's a fact we all should fa-a-ace

Everyone makes judgements…

Based on race!"

"Now, not BIG judgements, like who to hire or who to buy an ice cream from!" Thrasher conceded to his friend.

"Nooo!" She shook her head rapidly, "Because that's really mean!"

"No, just little judgements, like thinking that all these Necromancers should learn how to goddamn smile!"

"Right!"

"Everyone's a little bit racist, today

So everyone's a little bit racist -

Oka-a-ay

All these jokes may be uncouth

But you laugh because they're

Based on truth!

Don't take them as personal atta-a-acks

Everyone enjoys them…

So relax!"

"Alright, stop me if you've heard this one!" Thrasher said eagerly, "Ok, so there's a plane going down…"

"Uh - huh…"

"There's only one parachute…"

"Hmm…"

"And there's a rabbi, a priest -"

"And a TEXAN!" Clarabelle squealed, only to be roughly interrupted by Billy-Ray Sanguine, who had just randomly emerged from the Medical Bay with bandages wrapped around his mid-section.

"What the hell ya talkin' about, Blue?" He snarled venomously.

"Aaah…" Clarabelle trailed off, whimpering slightly.

"You were tellin a Texan joke!" He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at her.

Thrasher immediately rushed to her defence with a shaky laugh, "Sure, Sanguine, but lots of people tell Texan jokes!"

"I don't." The assassin retorted, turning around to assumedly glare at him - the sunglasses and lack of eyes made it pretty hard to tell.

"Well, of course you don't…" Thrasher said with a disbelieving glance at Clarabelle, "You're from Texas. Duh. But hey, I bet you tell Elemental jokes, right?"

A grin suddenly broke out on Sanguine's face, "Aw, sure I do! Heh, those stupid Elemental people!" He cracked up laughing, then had to stop in case he popped some of his stitches.

"Now don't you think that's a little racist?" Thrasher said good-naturedly and Sanguine frowned.

"Well, damn! I guess you're right!"

They all laughed again, until Myra entered with a tray of muffins. "Hey, guys! What're you laughing about?"

"Magical racism!" Clarabelle choked back through tears of laughter.

Myra, having no experience with magic - or anyone in the room, come to that - simply beamed and handed Thrasher a muffin. "Cool!"

Fletcher suddenly appeared in the middle of the room with a pop. "Hey, Myra!" He greeted in his thick London accent, "I've just been up and down the apples and pears looking for you!"

"What does that mean?" Thrasher exclaimed and Myra turned to him with a frown.

"Uh…stairs…"

Thrasher, Clarabelle and Sanguine erupted with laughter again, clutching at each other.

"Hey!" Myra snapped, "Don't laugh at him! I bet you don't have any cool sayings!"

"Oh, come off it, Muffin." Clarabelle giggled, "Everyone's a little bit racist!"

Myra gasped, "I'm not!"

"Oh, no?"

"Nope!"

"Ha!"

"Well, how many foreign boyfriends have you lot got?"

Fletcher gasped, wounded, "What? MYRA!"

Thrasher rushed forward, shaking his head forlornly, "Myra, baby, where've you been? The term is a 'Hot London Gentleman!"

"I know you were not intending to be-e-e-e,

But calling me 'foreign boyfriend'…" Fletcher scowled, "That's offensive to me!"

Myra burst into tears, consequently dropping the rest of her muffins as she ran to Fletcher, "I'm sorry! I love you!"

Fletcher sighed heavily, patting her on the back. "Yeah. I know."

"But…" she pulled away with him with teary eyes, "You're racist too…"

"Yeah." He repeated with a sigh, "I know:

I hate all the damn vampires because they're simply emo,

One tried to take Valkyrie and the girl just couldn't say no!"

"Oh, a vampire?" Thrasher shook his head sympathetically, "That's rough!"

"They SUCK!" Fletcher wailed, "I hate them ALL!"

"Me too!" Clarabelle agreed with a fevered nod.

"Me too!" Sanguine had to admit.

"One of them rejected me once." Thrasher whimpered. "So me TOO!"

"Everyone's a little bit racist

It's true!

But everyone is just about as racist -

As you-ou-ou!

If we all could just admit

That we are racist, a little bit

And everyone stop being so PC!

Maybe we could live in…

Harmony!"

Thrasher gave an emotional sniff, "Oh, it's so nice to have friends who appreciate me and my views."

"Mmm, yeah." Sanguine began to shuffle off, presumably already bored, then stopped suddenly, "Oh my god! A little moth!"

Myra fainted.

Oh God, I don't even know what that was…Reviews and feedback are very much welcomed! I do plan to make this a series of crack-ish drabbles, so I hope you liked…Though I don't really blame you if you don't xD

~Shego~