A/N: OK, this is supposed to be a little funny. It'll deal with some of the things in Redwall that bothered me. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall. Don't eat me. However, I do own ORCC and all its associated parts. So, without further ado, I give you:

The Misadventures of Martin's Sword

Part One: Of Trouble and Troubadours

Prologue

Matthias looked up irately as somebeast began yelling in his face. Still typing with his left paw, he handed a clipboard stuffed with paperwork over the counter to the yelling creature with the other. "Fill this out, sir." He refocused upon typing, ignoring the mutterings of the other creature.

The creature who had just been yelling looked down at the top form on the clipboard.

Full Legal Name:

Nickname (if any):

Marital Status:

The list continued on and on, but he ignored it. Stomping back over to the reception desk, he slammed the clipboard onto the counter. "I'm not filling this out," he complained. Matthias sighed and stopped typing.

"I'm sorry, sir. It's protocol. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do for Methuselah." The creature growled. He slammed the clipboard over Matthias's computer screen.

"I am that is, look at me!" he commanded. Matthias heaved a heavy sigh. He leaned back in his chair, putting his paws behind his head.

"Don't call me that, Martin."

Martin spluttered. His transparent paw dropped down to his sword hilt. Matthias lunged forward, grabbing for the transparent sword. Martin was too quick; drawing the blade, he skittered backwards across the linoleum of the reception room floor. Matthias moaned as little red alarms began to flash all around the room.

He ran over to a keypad on the wall, punching in a four-digit code. The alarms stopped, along with the flashing lights. The phone on the desk began ringing and Matthias scurried back to answer it. Hitting the button for speaker, he said, "Sorry, Methuselah. Though I'd appreciate it next time if you let me know when, uh, somebeast exasperating was coming."

Martin growled again. "I am not exasperating."

Methuselah's aged voice crackled over the speaker, "Really, Matthias," he chided, "you shouldn't talk like that about other beasts to their faces. It's not polite."

Martin spluttered again. "Matthias! You're the Warrior of Redwall! You can't be rude, especially to me." Matthias folded his paws over his chest. Looking up, he remarked:

"You have no idea what this place is, do you?" Martin shook his head. "This is the ORCC." Martin cocked an eyebrow. "Office of Redwall Canon Corrections."

"So what am I doing here? I am practically the epitome of Redwall canon." Martin struck a noble pose, drawing his sword for effect. Matthias moaned, slamming his head on the desk as the annoying alarms and lights turned back on. Over the speaker, four little beeps could be heard. Matthias was about to slam his head on the desk again, but stopped midway when he noticed the alarms and lights were gone.

"Thanks Methuselah," he gasped.

Martin glared with transparent eyes at his transparent sword, which had been automatically returned to its hilt. Then he stared at Matthias. "And what are you doing? You can't handle little annoying buzzes? You were the original Redwall Champion, for the claw's sake."

Matthias looked up from where he had been rubbing his head. He sighed deeply. "All right Martin, just think about what you just said."

"You being a pansy?"

Matthias glowered. "No, before that."

"About me being the epitome of Redwall canon?" Martin was ready to strike another noble pose, reaching for his sword.

Matthias was better prepared this time. He leapt forward, cracking a heavy wooden staff across Martin's right paw. Martin yelped. "What was that for?" Awkwardly, he tried to draw his sword with his left paw. Matthias grappled with him.

"Because," he gritted, trying to deal with the exasperating mouse warrior, "ORCC, remember? Canon correction. We've already completed a good portion of the work, but you keep making more bad or errored canon." Martin tried to bite down on Matthias's paw, but Matthias twisted Martin's arm around behind his back. Panting, he continued, "So the CORCC decided- that's the Council of Redwall Canon Correction, the CORCC decided we would correct the source to stop the flow."

Methuselah's voice came out of the phone on Matthias's desk. "Yes, Martin, we came up with that brilliant plan when even Rose stopped liking you. Show him the charts Matthias."

Matthias released his grip on Martin. "Gladly," he muttered, giving Martin a dark look. With a few clicks of his mouse and a few taps on the keyboard, Matthias pulled up the SORCC, stocks of Redwall canon correction. He waited until MRT rolled by on the live ticker. He clicked on it, and a detailed analysis popped up on screen. He opened the chart displaying total popularity. Matthias turned the web cam on top of the monitor around so that it was facing one of the blank walls.

With a few more clicks and adjustments, Martin's popularity ratings were displayed, blown up, upon the wall. Matthias zoomed in on the beginning. "As you can see Martin, you ratings steadily inclined, taking a huge leap after Mossflower hit bookstores." Matthias set the chart rolling steadily forward. "You hit your all-time high for a few years after Martin the Warrior was published. But then, as is apparently clear, your popularity has been dropping ever since Loamhedge was released.

"We at ORCC were still trying to CC, canon correct, some minor characters in order to grow our staff. But then, you started producing more bad canon than we could handle. We've been on overload for quite some time now."

Methuselah added, "So Martin, it's up to you now. You have to help us correct the bad canon, especially the bad canon you've been single-pawedly responsible for creating. They're monsters." Matthias and Martin could almost hear Methuselah shiver.

Martin was too aghast to strike a noble pose – but Matthias had his staff in paw, just in case. Martin tried to decide whether to glare at Matthias or at the telephone. He settled on Matthias. "So why can't you deal with him? You have I am that is to help." Matthias whacked Martin's arm. "Ow, what was that for?"

"For being a ninny. And calling me I am that is. We can't stop these creatures. They're FORCCs!"

"Foes of Redwall Canon Correction," Methuselah hurriedly explained. "We can't stop them because they don't just hero-worship you Martin, they live to be you."

Matthias was tapping the end of his staff against his paw. "Remember 'I am that is'? I-Matthias? Well, thanks to you, every time I try and CC somebeast, they refuse because it would be going against canon. Which you created."

"What headstrong Matthias is trying to say here Martin," Methuselah said a little more gently, but not much more, "is that FORCCs only listen to their creator. It's one of their characteristics."

"Fine," Martin huffed. He pointed a claw at Matthias, "But then how is he here and not a fork?"

"FORCC," Matthias gritted, under his breath.

"Matthias can be here because he had a life before you came along. He had, I don't know, a personality…. I better come out there to help explain this. One minute." There was a loud dial tone as Methuselah disconnected the call. Matthias turned speakerphone off and hung up as well.

About half a minute later Methuselah shuffled in. He was wearing a dark green-brown habit, sandals around his footpaws. He shoved a copy of Redwall into Martin's paws. Martin looked down at the heroic young mouse standing on the cover, waving his sword, carrying a shield emblazoned with a large M. The young mouse also had a matching sword belt and scabbard.

Methuselah tapped a footpaw impatiently. "So then Martin, where were the scabbard, sword belt, and shield when every other Champion came along?" Martin looked sheepishly down.

"How do you expect to know, old mouse?" Methuselah sighed. Matthias would have sighed as well, but he was busy taking Ibuprofen.

Methuselah took the book back, glaring down his nose, through his spectacles. "Because, Martin, they are yours. Just as the FORCC's are. It is your duty to handle them."

Martin just stared blankly at Methuselah. He jumped in fright as Matthias suddenly said from behind him, "Would you prefer use to put that in complex riddle form? You seem to prefer those."

"Those are tests for the pre-Champions to endure!" Martin yelled furiously. Matthias barely managed to knock Martin's paw away from his sword hilt with his staff.

"Well, do they always have to come in times of danger? I was rather busy at the time." Matthias waved his free paw. "I had a maidfriend and I was a captain."

Methuselah was silently laughing behind the pair's backs. He quickly straightened his face as they looked at him. He coughed. "Matthias does have a valid point Martin. Finding a sword does not automatically save the abbey. As I remember one of the few good canon creatures managed to say something along the lines of 'A weapon does not always a warrior make.'"

Martin's face fell. "Well, somebeast had to find it. And it was as good a time as any, but I still don't see-"

Martin was cut off as Slagar entered the room. Slagar rolled his eyes. "Oh Hellgates, not him."

"Watch your language, Slagar," Methuselah said without turning around. Slagar watched his language and muttered something even fouler under his breath about 'old fools'. It was Matthias's turn to roll his eyes.

"Methuselah, remember, it was Chickenhound that killed you, not Slagar. And Slagar, that was a horrible comeback." Methuselah muttered something that definitely was not appropriate.

Slagar shrugged. "It's not my fault Matthias. Being around him," he pointed at Martin, "gives me a headache." Matthias hurriedly stuffed his bottle of Ibuprofen into his tunic.

Methuselah coughed something that distinctly sounded like "Join the club," though it was unclear if he was talking about Martin or Slagar, or both. To be on the safe side, both of them glowered at Methuselah. Matthias might have too, but he was nastily trying to discreetly down some more Ibuprofen.

Turning back around, Matthias poked Slagar, "So, Slagar, why'd you come here?"

"What? Oh, there's an emergency ORCC meeting. You and Methuselah have to attend."

"You too?" Matthias clarified. Slagar nodded his hooded head. Glad to leave the reception room, and hopefully Martin, Matthias said, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's boogey."

"Ask Slagar what we should do about Martin." Methuselah told Matthias. Matthias looked at Slagar with a not-this-again look on his face.

"We can't leave him here unguarded," Slagar reasoned. "Might as well bring him along. The CORCC can figure it out when we get there." Methuselah looked at Matthias, as if waiting for an answer. Matthias just checked to make sure his bottle of Ibuprofen was still stowed safely in his tunic before heading out of a side door. Slagar followed afterwards, leaving Methuselah to shuffle out with Martin.

A four-beast golf cart was parked outside the door. Slagar pulled a key off of his belt. He started the ignition as Matthias hopped into the passenger seat. Martin looked at Matthias, paws clenched. "I always ride shotgun," he protested. Matthias just poked out his tongue impudently. Methuselah shoved Martin into the right backseat, climbing in after him. Methuselah propped his footpaws up on top of the driver's seat, right next to Slagar's head. Slagar twitched, but said nothing.

Once everybeast had fastened their seatbelt, Slagar shifted the golf cart into reverse. He backed out of his parking space by the reception building. Putting the cart into drive, he turned left out of the parking lot, driving across the ORCC campus towards the Council Building.