Alright! I have decided to get the warnings out first, as they can also serve as the summary…This will be a joint project between frenchbrunette and myself. We decided that we finally needed to let out all our pent-up frustration directed towards the Twilight saga in a comical, stress-relieving way. So, will there be character bashing? Yes. OOC? Hell ya. Naughty words? You betcha. Crack? Very much so. The characters of the series might even behave in ways indescribable and unheard of. You have been warned, mortals. Now, let the cracking begin.

Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

Summary: We're making it up as we go along. Just go with it, people.

Additional Warning: I have no clue how bad it's going to get, so if you choose to read the story, hold onto you're hats, because you're in for a bumpy ride…

Begin madness now.

Edward wished, really wished, that the Volturi had killed him. He had only given them like, three hundred forty seven opportunities. For an evil organization of killer vampires, they were a pretty sad fighting force. They couldn't even kill a baby.

Said baby was the source of the happy daddy's migraine. Renesme was a child prodigy, and she couldn't even figure out how to use a toilet properly. She was nearly three years old, and was still filling diapers. It didn't help that Jacob conveniently disappeared whenever she crapped herself. He was with her every minute of every day (much to Rosaline's disappointment), but as soon as the smell of waste hit his nose, he suddenly remembered the he needed to visit his ailing father or something.

Edward groaned as he threw away yet another disposable package. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Just as Edward set his beloved daughter on the floor, Bella walked into the room with some very large shopping bags in her hand.

'Oh great,' thought Edward, 'Just what I need. More crap…'

"Hello Edward, I'm back," said Bella.

"I noticed. Bella, what's in the bag?" Edward shot back. He was not in a good mood.

"Clothes. They had a sale, and I wanted to shop," she replied.

"Bella, you don't need that! Jesus, with the amount of money you spent weekly I'm not sure how the economy is still in the toilet," Edward growled. He was so tired of finding bags from every retail store on the West Coast. Yes, they were still in Forks.

"Oh, shut up, Edward! I need retail therapy! My father is dead, I haven't seen my mother in two years, and you never pay attention to me anymore!" Bella shouted back.

'That's a load of crap… which I am so sick of…' thought Edward. Just three hours earlier Edward had asked Bella if she wanted to do something. And Charlie was still very much alive. Bella just liked spending the family's money. And every time Edward tried approaching her about it, she just screamed something along the lines of "everybody hates me!" This outburst almost always woke Renesme and resulted in him not getting laid for a month and a half. Honestly, the love of his life was very quickly turning into the biggest pain in his ass.

XxX

"One, two three, four, five!"

Hop, jump, leap, hop, wiggle.

"One, two, three!"

Step, step, step.

"Jasper, you didn't hop, jump, or leap!" said Alice.

Yes. Jasper, supreme murderer and master of human emotions, was playing hop scotch with his spaz of a wife. He didn't know why he put up with it. Instead of playing hop scotch, he'd rather drink scotch. Except he couldn't, because he was a fucking vampire. He was immortal, drop dead gorgeous, and had super-human-insert-skill-here, but he couldn't even get smashed. It was a terrible trade off. What good was immortality if you couldn't drink for an eternity? That's the thing: it wasn't good. At all. Jasper had wanted a shot of good brandy for three-quarters of a century, but every time he got one, it just tasted like dirt.

"Alice, you can tell the future. I think you knew that I wouldn't hop, jump, or leap. And what the bloody hell did you do on square five?" Jasper said, exasperated.

"Oh, you have to pretend to be a worm on square five," said Alice.

"Uh-huh…"

"You wanna try?" asked Alice.

"I'm good. In fact, I think I better go find Edward. He seems to be kind of…on edge," Jasper replied.

XxX

Edward, having been sufficiently calmed by Jasper, walked towards Carlisle's office. He had one goal and one goal only. He needed to get Bella out of the house for a couple of days, or maybe a couple weeks. Months wouldn't hurt either.

Carlisle was paying bills, the number of which had gone up dramatically since Bella had arrived. Open, sign, stamp, seal. Open, sign, stamp, seal. "Carlisle, I need to talk to you about Bella." Open. "She needs a vacation." Sign. "Preferably far away." Stamp. "Are you listening to me?" Seal.

"Listen, Edward, I'm kind of busy, if you haven't noticed. Can't this wait?" said Carlisle.

"Actually, it can't. It's really important that Bella gets as far away from here as soon as possible," said Edward.

Carlisle sighed. "Very well. What's wrong?"

"Bella needs a vacation. Desperately."

"Well, I need one too. I'm so tired of signing these. It seems as if the number of credit card bills is always increasing," said Carlisle.

'That's because they are….Bella only has fifty seven.' "So Bella can go on the vacation?" said Edward, changing the subject.

Carlisle raised a delicate eyebrow, but let the change of topic slide. "We're all going on a vacation. There's a new moose farm open in Canada. We'll go there," replied Carlisle, "After all, we have that new cabin up there. We should use it."

Edward groaned internally. He had not planned on going on the vacation with his wife. He thanked his adopted father, and walked briskly out of Carlisle's office. As soon as the door clicked, Edward muttered a single word that summed up what he had been feeling the entire year;

"Fuck."

From within his office Carlisle smirked. He knew much more than his children gave him credit for. He definitely couldn't wait to see what would happen to Edward and Bella over their moose trip. Whatever it was, it was bound to be amusing. Yes, Carlisle was most certainly a closet sadist, and a damn good one.

Open, sign, stamp, seal. Open, sign, stamp, seal.

XxX

Edward was currently pissed. He could have been in a warm cabin, comfortable. Instead, he was here, in traffic. Just like he had been for the last 3 hours, 27 minutes, and 16 seconds.

'We have super-human speed, are concerned about the environment, and have more fun running. Why the hell did we drive the car?' Edward thought inwardly to himself.

"Oh Edward, stop your sulking. It'll clear up in the next 20 minutes," said Alice.

"Uh-huh…" replied Edward, continuing to sulk.

"Hey! My prediction in 100% authentic, mister. I can see the future, remember?" said Alice.

"Riiiight. If you can predict the future, why didn't you see this God-forsaken traffic jam?" Edward shot back.

Emmett, who had been listening intently, and decided to add his two cents. "Damn Alice, you got buuuurrrrned!"

And with that, Alice promptly turned on the radio to the loudest station she could find, pretending not to have heard Edward. If Edward wasn't an undead monster, the chords in his neck would definitely be standing out, and one could probably bet that he'd be a lovely shade of purple.

Yes, Edward was currently pissed.

In the other Cullen car, things were not fairing anywhere near as well. Esme had offered to drive Rosalie and Bella, along with Jasper, much to Carlisle's disapproval. So, Carlisle was forced to take absurdly complicated detours just to avoid any sort of shopping mall or outlet store. Luckily Bella hadn't noticed.

'Of course she hasn't noticed…she's only the densest life form in the Multiverse…' thought Carlisle.

Carlisle, having gone around the latest shopping mall, could finally get back on the freeway. In the distance, he could see that they were about to cross the border. He gestured for Esme to hand him their pass for the short lines (kinda like the Sun Passes in Florida, and the E-Z passes in New Jersey). Oh, wait. They had left theirs at the house, which was a good two hours away (because a certain blonde-haired bimbo forgot). Begrudgingly, Carlisle pulled into the shortest lane (which still consisted of around nine cars moving slightly faster than an average garden snail).

"Hey look! An outlet mall!"

Carlisle's head hit the steering wheel, and he made no move to pick it back up.

Okay! The end! How did you guys like it? Good.

Just an extra warning/comment: If you're going to review this (which I sincerely hope you will…) I don't plan on making it flow. It's going to feel more like a series of flashbacks that happen to occur near each other. So basically, it won't flow super well.

To frenchbrunnette: How was that? This was…impossible to write, but a lot of fun too. I hope you have as much of a blast as I do writing the next chap!