Oh Lord. I'm mean, I know, but this was a challange. Inspired by a typo and a journal entry, something was spawned. Something very... cliche. His code name: Gary-Stu. Sort of.

A parody of sorts, but making fun of all the bad fics out there. Sorry if you're offended by this or something... but it made me laugh, so there. D:

I have chapter two done, but we'll see how this goes, yeah? I'm always open for suggestions on what else Gary-Stu should do. This is his introduction.

Yes, the title was ripped, unintentionally, from the movie, The Good Shepherd. I wanted British Invasion, but the title can be changed, so we'll see. (State your opinions now! The Good Shepard or British Invasion!)

Credit goes out to Marauder, who inspired this, ArtemisRex, who supported the idea, and Marsonfire and Queen Jane Approximately for loving it and supporting it. And throwing out ideas. The Summary was thrown out by Marauder and Queen Jane. Hope you don't mind I used it. xD

The Good Shepard

One

Tim was just about ready to join in on the yelling match that Angela and Curly were having, since he was finding it rather hard to watch TV with those two going at it. It got worse as each second passed, because of course, it just isn't an argument until you start throwing things. Sighing, Tim moved so he was lounging on the couch, a book sailing over his head and landing on the floor a moment later.

"I'll beat your ass if you throw anything over here again," he hollered as a shoe narrowly missed the TV.

"Oh, fuck you Tim," Angela shouted, and Curly whole heartedly agreed. So the shouting match evolved into a two against one for a minute, until it turned into an all out war. And then some poor soul knocked on the door. Angela stormed over, since Tim currently had Curly pinned on the ground, and wrenched the door open.

"What do yo-"

Angela stopped and stared at the equally startled person. An older boy that looked a lot like Tim was standing on the front porch. "Tim," Angela called nervously, making sure not to take her eyes off of the person. "Tim! Someone done dressed themselves up to look like you and it's creepin' me out."

Tim whacked Curly over the head for good measure before he stood up and walked to the door, muttering about how his kid sister was on drugs. Well, Tim, if Angela's on drugs, so are you.

Tim couldn't even bring himself to ask who the stranger was. It's a little unsettling to be looking at yourself standing on the other side of the door. Angela had reverted back to her younger sister mode and was hiding behind her older brother. Just in case the stranger turned out to be some psychopathic salesman who murdered and/or raped his costumers and happened to look a lot like Tim. But we all know that's just absurd.

The stranger suddenly grinned and let out a strange sort of excited squeal before bringing Tim into a rather crushing hug. "I finally found you! I've been searching since I was seven years old!" he announced with an obviously English accent, letting go of Tim who looked a bit dazed. "They all said I'd never find you, but eleven years later and, well, here I am!"

"...Who are you?"

The man looked rather appalled. "What do you mean? No one ever told you about me?"

"Obviously not, or I wouldn't be asking who the fuck you are."

He gasped. "You shouldn't swear Timothy, it's unbecoming!"

Curly wandered over. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh goodness, I have a lot of work to do, don't I? Lord, even the younger ones cuss like sailors," he muttered, eyeing Curly with a mix of revulsion and pity. Tim imagined he'd be crossing himself any second. Or worse yet, he had a cross with him and would take it out and hold it in front of him before he stepped foot into their house. Not that Tim would let him into the house in the first place.

"You gonna tell me who ya are?" Tim asked again.

"I'm Theodore, but you can call me Teddy," He said, smiling a smile that damn near blinded all three siblings. "I'm your twin! Isn't that wonderful?" he screeched, hugging Tim again.

"Uh... Ted," Tim said, pushing his 'twin' away. "I ain't never heard of-"

"Ain't is not a word, Timothy," Ted interrupted. Tim glared at him.

"Fine, I've never heard of you," he snarled. "As far as I'm concerned, you don't exist, now get the hell off my doorstep," Tim snapped, closing the door. Ted's foot, however was in the way. He stuck his arm through the gap in the door, waving some papers around. Curly snatched them away, glanced at them, looked baffled, and handed them to Tim who was still holding the door in its almost closed position. Angela was standing on her toes, looking over Tim's shoulder as best she could.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Fuckin' birth certificate," Tim muttered, ignoring Ted's protests.

"Well?" Angela asked, obviously getting anxious. Curly still didn't seem to comprehend what was going on, so he took to cussing Ted out. It sounded like Ted was about to pass out he was sucking in so much air.

Tim made a face and shoved the papers back through the crack in the door. "He's our brother."

Angela looked horrified. "I have to deal with more of you? That's it! I'm moving out!" she announced, stomping to her room.

"Can she do that?" Curly asked, forgetting about Ted for a moment as Tim opened the door. He was ignoring Curly.

"All right Ted... you can come in, but if I tell you to leave, you better get out as if the devil himself were on your heels," Tim warned, standing to the side as his twin walked in. He immediately began tutting and made futile attempts to clean things. Curly looked just as horrified as Angela had.

"But that guy's a fag. I don't want a fag touchin' my stuff!" He protested, loud enough for only Tim to really hear. Tim smacked the boy upside the head.

"Shut up, he's our brother. An' I'm in charge here an' I say he can touch your stuff all he wants, but you keep your comments to yourself, you hear me?"

Curly made a face at him and stormed outside.

"Oh this won't work at all," Ted muttered, walking back into the living room from the kitchen. "I'm not getting the happy home vibe that I should be getting... but not to worry! I can change all that in a jiffy!" he said happily, practically skipping out the door. Tim was surprised there wasn't a trail of rainbows and glitter behind him. Ted came back in with a large carpet bag and a smug look on his face.

"Why don't you bond with Angel while I fix things up around here."

"Ted-"

"Buh-bup!" Ted said, wagging a finger in Tim's face. "Go."

Tim glared at him but walked down the hallway where the bedrooms were anyway. Angela's door was open and she was already grabbing clothes and shoving them into a little suitcase their mother had given her to play with when she was younger.

"Put the suitcase away Angel, you ain't goin' no where," Tim drawled as he leaned against the door frame. She glared at him, but kept right on packing.

"The hell I ain't. If he's stayin', I'm gone."

"He ain't gonna be like Curly-"

"Or you?"

"Or me. He's so... faggy, he farts rainbows," Tim muttered. Angela snorted.

"He farts rainbows? What the hell was that, Tim?"

"I dunno, just start unpackin' your stuff."

My sense of humor shining through with that one. I couldn't resist. :D