DISCLAIMER: I don't own a damn thing! But if I did the books would be SO much better!

Hi-ho! I was reading New Moan (Twilight Parody) last night and that, mixed with the fact that someone had fears of MR becoming a joke when the film was made, inspired me to write a parody. I'm hoping to do books 1-3, then start fresh with 4-6 (I dread re-reading 4 and 5 T.T).

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy :)

Oh, and shameless advertising for MRUBC FTW!

Maximum Ride Parody: The Convicts

Prologue

"Congratulations. The fact that you're reading this means you've taken one giant step to surviving till your next birthday."

"You need to speak up, Max," Iggy sighs.

"Stop looking at your lines – look at us instead," Nudge adds.

"You really should memorise them." Angel nods and Fang nods with her.

"You don't sound...Max enough."

"But I am Max!" I stamp my foot.

"They're not going to believe you," He sighs. "If you want to succeed in the voting cycles, then you're going to have to do better than that to impress the folks at Maximum Ride User Based Casting." Fang turns his head to look into the camera I was going to use, conveniently set to record, his face passive and his tone neutral. "That's right, Maximum Ride User Based Casting – prove you've got what it takes to play on of the flock at Maximum Ride User Casting dot Ning dot com."

I shake my head and look to Gazzy. "Don't you have anything to add?"

He grins, pulls his own finger and a green smog fills the room.

Chapter One

I could think of better things to do with my time at this particular moment; I could be reading a good book, kicking the crap out of Fang or I could be discovering the cure for cancer, or the meaning of life.

I could be, but I wasn't.

No, instead of doing those awesome things I decided to spend my free time running through a thick forest, cutting myself on every thorny bush I came across, stubbing my toes on roots and stepping in what I'm going to call mud – it was not a huge, stinking pile of...well...it's not that, ok? The howls close by urge me on; the fear of being in the wrong novel and set as the main character in a crappy romance book, where choosing between two love interests causes me to commit either necrophilia or bestiality, sends the adrenaline pumping. I will not be that kind of main character. I break into the clearing and skid to a halt at the edge of the cliff. Behind me, the Erasers, half-man half-beast, move in.

"Come on, Max." Ugly Eraser grins, holding up his rifle. "We only want to play tag...with our bullets."

"Dude, what are you doing?" Uglier Eraser sighs. "We don't have lines in this scene."

"We don't?"

"He's right, Dave." Three times as ugly as the other two, agrees. "This is just the opening sequence to the actual plot which follows the prologue; we're just supposed to howl and snarl."

"Oh man, I really blew it." Dave drops his rifle and places his head in his clawed hands. "I'm sorry guys," he mutters and looks up to me. "Sorry, Max."

I stare blankly as the other two pat him on the back and nod slowly, letting my wings unfurl. "That's ok; I'm...erm, just going to fly away now, ok?"

"Ok." Dave nods. "Sorry again."

I nod once more and leap off the edge, letting the wind catch my wings and I fly as far away from those crazy Erasers as possible.

"Oh my God!" I bolt upright in my bed. A thin sheen of sweat coated my skin, my breath was ragged and...I think I've wet myself. "That dream was less dramatic than usual!"

I clean myself up before heading into the kitchen to find some food. To do this I have to step through the crap the Flock leaves around our W-shaped house; it was E-shaped but we grew tired of the look, tipped the house on its side and did some re-modelling. In the kitchen, the cupboards are completely bare, Jeb never got around to painting them – oh, there's not much food in them either.

"G'morning..." Gazzy, Spawn of Sat – I mean Angel's (age six) older brother (age eight), pads into the room. He's a cute kid, but is digestive system...Yuck. I've considered bottling it and selling it to the military to put food on the table. "What's for breakfast?"

"I'm looking for something to make." I smile and his eyes widen in terror. I'm about to lecture him on the fact that my cooking is not that bad, and that last weeks Lizard Pie Surprise was not the cause of our sickness, when something comes crashing down the stairs.

"Holy crap," Iggy (age fourteen) hisses and rubs his back. "What did I slip on?"

My gaze travels from Iggy to the banana peel on the next step down from the top; it was on the top step when I came down – I managed to avoid it – but Iggy's blind, so he wasn't so lucky. I shrug nonchalantly. "Banana peel."

"It's impossible to slip on a single banana peel." Iggy's unseeing eyes narrow at me...Or they would be if he were looking in my direction and not at the wall. "Mythbusters proved it."

"Are you ok to cook?" Gazzy leads him to the kitchen. "Cause if you're not, Max will have too..."

"I can't let that happen, not after last week." I hear Iggy say as he closes the kitchen door behind him.

"It's wasn't that bad!" I scream.

"It was worse than that." Fang (fourteen) startles me, so I whirl around and punch him in the solar plexus.

"Quit doing that!"

"I'd make some...smart-assed remark about...breathing," he wheezes. "But...I can't anyway..."

"Serves you ri – what happened to you're hair?" I stare at the short, uneven black locks.

"It was too long, I decided to cut it."

It did used to be long, longer than mine, but now it looked like..."You did a crap job of it." I say sweetly and make my way back upstairs. "I'm going to wake the girls, be a dear and set the table."

Nudge (eleven) shares a room with Angel, I get my own room because I'm the oldest fourteen year old and Flock leader – I don't care about the boys arrangements. Nudge is tangled in her covers asleep, it's the only time she's ever quiet; the rest of the time I want to rip her voice box out because she never shuts up. I tiptoe over to her bed and give it a swift kick. "Rise and shine!"

"Fang's mine, bitch!" She bolts upright and then gazes at me. "Oh, morning Max."

My brow rises. "Morning. Erm, breakfast in ten."

"Ok." She smiles sheepishly and goes to wash up. I turn to the shadowed area in the far corner of the room, in the darkness I can make out an altar hidden behind a thin black curtain; the aura emitting from it seeps into my veins and turns them to ice. Still, I swallow my fear and slowly step closer to the curtain. I will not let her know that I, the leader, am spooked by a creepy six year old. "Angel," I say softly and a strange, deep roar shakes the room as she yawns. "Time to get up, sweetie." I reach out to the curtain, my hand shaking as it inches towards it, and gently push it aside.

"Morning, Max." Angel smiles sweetly, brushing her blonde hair from her blue eyes. Don't let the looks fool you, she's pure evil. I hate her.

"I hate you too, Max." She smiles tightly, hops off the stone altar covered in black silk, and heads downstairs for breakfast. The creepiest thing about Angel?

She's a demonic mind reader.

Yay! Chapter one done :) And Mythbusters rule!