Disclaimer: Still not mine. All I own is Rory and random student #117.

A/N: Okay, I thought about it, and I finally decided on a direction for this fic. From this chapter onwards, it's going to be a let's-corrupt-the-original-storyline-with-a-shameless-insertion-of-an-all-powerful-OC fic. Expect Chad-bashing in later chapters. Yay, this is the first OC I've ever created, whee!

Rory: You know you love me.

Me: Yeah, yeah, just remember who's the boss here.

Rory: (sticks tongue out) Whatever.

Me: That's it, it's rape time!!

Rory: Acck noooooooooooooooooooooooooooOkay.

On with the story!

Detention...

Everyone was grudgingly doing their meaningless tasks on the set, some painting backdrops, some doing random lifting of heavy objects, and a few stuffing the camel Ms. Darbus mentioned before. It was a horrible sequinned thing, meant to be used at some point in the school's production of 'Twinkle Town' later on, though nobody really cared at the moment.

Troy Bolton was busy fixing crepe leaves to a large, twisted tree when he noticed a certain brunette practically flinging paint at an enormous , papier-mache fire hydrant. Streaks of bright red dripped to the floor, though she didn't seem to care at all. She was weird, he certainly had to admit. Gabriella Montez was the weirdest person he had ever met, and he liked it for some reason.

By the piano, Ms. Darbus was barking something at Kelsi, the poor girl hurriedly re-writing something on the sheet of paper in front of her with a squeak. She was working on the score for the musical, though it was apparent that Ms. Darbus had other opinions on the matter. Over on the other side of the stage, Sharpay and her twin were huffily stuffing the camel, bits of straw sticking in their hair.

Suddenly, time froze.

Random student # 117, who had been nailing boards together to form a spaceship, abruptly exploded, leaving small sooty stains on the floor. A shimmering column of air twisted into existance, and a figure began to form in the heart of it. Soon, the mysterious figure stepped forward.

His cherubic good looks were contrasted with longish indigo hair with streaks of black, and he surveyed his surroundings curiously with large, sea-green eyes.

This strange boy was dressed in a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, baggy cargoes a faded olive green in colour and nondescript black army boots. A nametag that said 'Rory' was pinned to his chest, though it glittered and vanished after a few seconds. Looking upwards at nothing in particular, he began to speak.

Rory: Okay, I'm here. Man, you should have called me in during the second chapter, this fic stinks!

Author-who-shall-henceforth-be-referred-to-as-Twillight-Bunny-or-TB-for-short: Shut the fuck up!

Rory: ...

TB: What?

Rory: You're mean.

TB: I know. Meh, fine. I'll make it up to you. If you're a good boy and stick to the plan, I'll let you keep Ryan as your own personal sex-bunny. That okay?

Rory: Squee! (runs over and pets the still frozen Ryan) Can I use the blueberry yogurt and cattle prod?

TB: (eye twitch) Uhh...whatever. Just remember, you're supposed to screw up the storyline as much as you can, okay? Oh, and pick on Chad. A lot.

Rory: Yessuh boss, you betcha by golly gee whiz uh huh. (continues playing with Ryan's hair.)

TB: (grumbles) Just get to it, and don't mess it up, you hear?

Rory skipped back to his spot by the half-nailed spaceship, where he snapped his fingers, making time un-freeze. Nobody seemed to notice the untimely demise of random student #117, instead carrying on with their tasks as if nothing had happened. Walking over to Gabriella, who was still painting the fire hydrant, he cleared his throat, before speaking.

"Hi, I'm Rory. You're Gabriella Montez, right?"

"Fuck off."

"Screw you, whore."

Surprised, she studied him, before smiling.

"I think we're going to be best friends."

God this was short...Like I said before, I'm not sure what happens next, so unless someone tells me I can't continue...Oh well, review and let me know what you think, okay?

On a random note, I do believe that I'm slowly becoming obsessed with the phrase ' Stuff the camel.'