A/N: This is so incredibly stupid. But man, was it ever fun to write.

Disclaimer: As ever, don't own.

30,000 years ago, on a plain in what is now southern California, the members of the Holly Tribe gathered for a tribal council. The issue at hand was a serious one: whether to admit into their small band the slender, dark-haired newcomer known as Tor of the High Cheekbones. The tribe members chewed raw mammoth meat and eyed the nervous, starving girl as she stood before them; this was an age-old initiation ritual, intended to test the girl's mettle.

At last the tribal chieftain, Ern of the Balding Pate, thrust aside the last hunk of fat and addressed Tor. "Tell us, woman. What skills you bring to Holly Tribe?"

"Um…me useful for many things. Good cook, good clean…"

Ja of the Perpetual Scowl, a girl roughly Tor's age who held much of the tribe under her sway through sheer intimidation, promptly responded: "We already have cook. And why need clean? We live in caves. Not likely that we be on cover of Better Homes and Gardens any time soon."

The newcomer took a frightened step backwards, then recovered herself. "Okay. Well…what about me high cheekbones? They get me many men."

"So? Cutest man in tribe already belong to me." Everyone knew that she meant Bek of the Lovely Hair. "And really, what else high cheekbones good for? No help bring down mammoth; no help fight off saber-toothed tiger; no help fetch water from river! They useless!"

"What if me rub cheekbones with sticks, make fire?"

"That scientifically implausible, and you know it."

Tor was on the verge of tears. Her new friend, Dre of the Inexplicable Run Dance, gave her an encouraging hand signal. She thought for a long moment; then: "Wait! Me know!" She cried triumphantly. "Me sing real good! You need bard for tribe, no?"

Ja snorted in derision. "Me and Kat am bards for tribe!" She motioned to a cheery redhead known as Kat of the Addled Brain. "You no can be better at make singing than us!"

"Hey!" It seemed that the insult had galvanized Tor into courage. "Me am plenty good at make singing! And besides, there am plenty room. You alto; Kat am high soprano; me low soprano. We make nifty chorus!"

"Yeah? You prove it. Sing with me!"

As the rest of the tribe watched, enraptured, the two girls broke into the Holly tribe's war chant:

Get you hands off me hips, 'fore me punch you in the lips
Stop you staring at me— Hey!
Take a hint, take a hint
No you no buy me a drink, let me tell you what me think
Me think you could use a mint
Take a hint, take a hint

Raucous cheers of approval burst from the crowd. Ern of the Bald Pate laid down his ceremonial tiger-bone scepter and rose to lead a round of applause.

"Okay, me admit you pretty good," Ja said grudgingly. "You join tribe."

There was another, even louder round of applause, led by Dre this time.

Tor beamed. "This best day of me life! Just one question."

"Yeah?"

"What am mint?"

"How should me know? Me no write lyrics."

"Oh, and how 'buy' drink? This Stone Age. Money no exist yet."

"Why you no understand suspension of disbelief?" Ja's fury was swiftly growing. Angry murmurs arose from those gathered around her.

"And rhymes! Rhymes only work if we speaking English! But that make no sense-ow! No hit!"

And so it was that Tor's application to join the Holly Tribe was rejected, and she was tied up and thrown to the giant sloths.