Hannah Montana was standing by herself gazing at her reflection in the full length mirror. She knew what lay beneath the toupee she wore. Cascades of dirty brown hair lay beneath the itchy devise. And she was in love with who lay beneath the pop star outer persona.

Miley Stewart.

She sighed. "Why is Miley so beautiful? How could anyone resist her flowey locks of poop hair. And her bluish clean toilet water eyes?"

Suddenly a knock came at the door.

"Howdy y'all," Billy-ray said, cowboy kickin into the room. "D'ya reckon we should head on out to the mighty fine limee-zine out doors?"

"Dang flabbit, Daddy, I'm busy admiring my Miley!" Hannah said, spoiled and prissy.

"You can do that all day, honey bun! But your dog-on fans are a-waitin to see Hannie Montanie. Don't go disappointin your peeps.

"Daddy don't talk gangsta, yo."

"Represent!" Billy-ray said and sidled out the door. Cowboy gangsta style. Straight up, ya'll.

"Oh Miley, our daddy is so embarrassing."

"Don't I know it," said her reflection. And the reflection sighed dreamily staring back at Hannie Montanie with love.

And then, they started making out with passion.

Then Oliver came in and saw some girl on girl action and decided to stalker-ishly watch.

THE END