Disclaimer: Neither me, nor Sofri, nor Sharpie own Kingdom Hearts. None of us own barbie, Star Wars, "Mein Hut er hat drei Ecke", the Song Song, Comfort Eagle, or 99 Luftballons. Short Caveman, evil as he is, owns himself. Sharpie and Sofri own themselves too. I own Russa.

FART!!!! SQUEAK!!!! BURKLE BURKLE BURKLE BURKLE BURKLE!!!

With these noises along with a poof of razzle-dazzle-polka-dot with purple stripes colored light, the three authoresses and their Nobody friends appeared in the Superior's room.

They all froze at the sight before them. Xemnas, scary Nobody leader with an evil monotone, was playing with… Barbie dolls.

He looked up at them and froze as well. Axel was the first to break the silence. "Superior, what the HECK are you doing?" Xemnas answered in a freakishly high voice (unfortunately, still a monotone), "I'm having a tea party with Ms. Tulip-toes! Uh… I mean… GET OUT!"

The six found themselves shoved outside the room. Russa turned around as the door slammed. She put a hand on it, yelled, "PICKLE!" and the door opened again.

She skipped inside. "You can't keep us out, Eggs Mc-Emnas!" Superior simply stared at her, a Barbie doll in each hand. Sofri followed her in, shaking with laughter. She shook a finger at Xemnas. "Did you know your name spells Mansex?"

Sharpie followed the others in, looking thoughtful. "Maybe that's why no one can find Xemnas or Saïx after 8 in the evening…" Behind her, Roxas and Axel had dissolved into hysterical laughter. Even Zexion was snickering behind a hand.

"Those are official strategy meetings!" Superior insisted quickly. Then, his face reddened. "Uh… I mean… um…" It was too late. The room echoed with the laughter of all six.

Xemnas finally snapped. He summoned his blades, saying in his normal, deep, annoying monotone. "Nothingness… is… ETERNAL." Russa grabbed hold of the end of one of the blades without seeming to get hurt. "Copycat!" she yelled.

"Your swords are already copyrighted." Sofri informed him. Sharpie handed him an official looking letter. Xemnas let his blades dissipate and stared at it. "It's from someone named George…" He slit open the letter and began to read. "This George person is suing me? For copyright infringement?"

"Yup." Sharpie confirmed. "Your lightsabers already appeared in Star Wars." Xemnas had a dumb, confused look on his face. "Huh? Star Wars?"

Russa waved a hand dismissively. "Forget about that." She pulled a random already blown-up balloon out of her pocket. Grinning evilly, she began rubbing it on the long silver-grey hair of Xemnas. When she was done, it looked like… "An afro?" Sofri laughed.

Russa snickered. "Yup."

POOF!!

Short Caveman appeared. He was immediately run through by Sofri's rapier, Sharpie's sharpie-shaped sword, and several of Russa's knives. He vanished.

Sofri and Russa promptly burst into song. "Meeeeeein Hut, er hat drei Ecke, drei Ecke hat mein Hut! Wann hat er nicht drei Ecke, dann ist er nicht mein Hut!"

With a poof, Xemnas was suddenly wearing dorky-looking lederhosen. He twitched.

The three authoresses began bouncing on the bed, singing a different song. "Now the song's beginning, here's the second line, the first verse is almost finished, aren't we doin' fiiine? And here comes the chorus, won't you sing along? Join us in the chorus, the chorus of the soooooooong! Oo-oo-ooooo-oo, oo-oo-oooo-oo! Second verse already, isn't singing fun? We could sing this verse all night, but oops, the verse is dooooone! And here comes the chorus, won't you sing along, join us in the chorus, the chorus of the sooooong! Oo-oo-oooo-oo, oo-oo-oooo-oo! Here's the middle eight, in the middleeeeeee, eight bars long, this is the sixth one, instrumental!" Sharpie provided the instrumental noises. "The third verse is a sad verse; it's like leaving an old friend. We've got to saaay goodbye now—goodbye now—because we've reached the eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeend. Yes, it's the end. (bum bum) Except for the chorus! Won't you sing along? Join us in the chorus, the chorus of the soooong! Here's a problem, how to end it? Sing the last line, once more with feeling: the choooooruuuus ooof theeee sooooooooooooong!"

Poof! Now Xemnas was wearing a Scottish kilt and holding a set of bagpipes. "What the heck?" he yelled. Axel, Roxas, and Zexion had long since dissolved into hysterical laughter.

Russa grinned and started up again. "We are building a religion, we are building it bigger, we are widening the corridors, and adding more lanes. We are building a religion, a limited edition, we are now accepting callers for these pendant keychains. To resist it is useless, it is useless to resist it. His cigarette is burning, but he never seems to ash. He is grooming his poodle, he is living comfort eagle, you can meet at his location, but you'd better come with cash." By this time, Sofri and Sharpie were doing a rather interesting dance along with the song. Russa grinned and continued. "Now his hat is on backwards, he can show you his tattoos, he is in the music business, he is calling you DUDE! Now today is tomorrow, and tomorrow is today, and yesterday is weaving in and out. And the fluffy white lines that the airplane leaves behind are drifting right in front of the waning of the moon. He is handling the money, he is serving the food, he knows about your party, he is calling you DUDE! Now, do you believe in the one big sign? The doublewide shine on the bootheels of your prime? Doesn't matter if you're skinny, doesn't matter if you're fat, you can dress up like a sultan in your onion-head hat. We are building a religion, we are making a brand, we're the only ones to turn to when your castles turn to sand. Take a bite of this apple, Mr. Corporate Events; take a walk through the jungle of cardboard shanties intense. Some people drink Pepsi, some people drink Coke. The wacky morning DJ says democracy's a joke. He says, "Now, do you believe in the one big song?" He is now accepting callers who would like to think along. He says, "Do you believe in the one true edge? By fastening your safety belt, and stepping towards the ledge." He is handling the money, he is serving the food, he is now accepting callers, he is calling me DUDE! Do you believe in the one big sign? The doublewide shine on the bootheels of your prime? There's no need to ask directions if you ever lose your mind; we're behind you, we're behind you, and let us please remind you: we can send a car to find you if you ever lose your way. We are building a religion… we are building it bigger… We are building… a religion… a limited… edition… we are now accepting callers… for these beautiful… pendant keychains…"

Xemnas looked like a poodle now. Russa snickered before she and Sofri threw themselves into the next song, accompanied by Sharpie, who had borrowed Demyx's sitar.

"Hast du etwas Zeit für mich? Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich auf 99 Luftballons, auf Ihren Weg zum Horizont. Denkst du vielleicht, grad an mich? Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich auf 99 Luftballons, und dass sowas von sowas kommt…(sitar music)… 99 Luftballonsauf Ihrem Weg zum Horizont. Hielt man für UFOs aus dem All. Darum schickte ein General: 'ne Fliegerstaffel hinterher. Alarm zu geben, wenn so wär. Dabei von da, am Horizont; Nur 99 Luftballons!...(sitar)… 99 Düsenflieger, jeder war ein grosser Krieger. Hielten sich für Captain Kirk; dass gab ein grosses Feuerwerk. Die Nachbarn haben nichts gerafft, und fühlten sich gleich angemacht. Dabei schoss man, am Horizont, auf 99 Luftballons!...(sitar)… 99 Kriegsminister, Streichholz und Benzinkanister! Hielten sich für schlaue Leute. Witterten schon fette Beute. Riefen: Krieg und wollten macht. Mann, wer hätte das gedacht? Dass es einmal, soweit kommt, Wegen 99 Luftballons!... Wegen 99 Luftballons… 99 Luftballons…(sitar)… 99 Jahre Krieg. Liessen keinen Platz für Sieger; Kriegsminister gibt's nicht mehr, und auch keine Düsenflieger. Heute sich ich meine Runden; seh die Welt in Trümmern liegen. Hab' 'nen Luftballon gefunden; denk an dich und lass' ich fliegen."

The Superior had turned into a red balloon. Russa, Sofri, and Sharpie looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. They fell onto the bed, rolling around and laughing.

Somehow, Xemnas turned himself back. He ran, sobbing hysterically, from the room.

Half an hour later, when they had all regained control of themselves, Axel realized something. "We've tortured everyone now… what next?" The three authoresses grinned, grabbed Axel's arms, and poofed away.

Roxas and Zexion stared at the spot where they'd been for a moment. "Oh dear…" Zexion said matter-of-factly.

Oh dear, indeed, Zexion, oh dear indeed...