CHAPTER 2: The Monkys Atack, And wE are Intorduceed To The Frist Misfit
Our First Actual Chapter. Ah. Don't you just love that new chapter smell? During the course of our lovely little tour (please do not molest the tour guide) we will be going back and forth between the three fics, so as to make the readers think they are watching a very bad soap opera (ever seen 'Passions'? Yeah, that bad). So, without further ado, let me present to you the lesser known yet oh-so-nauseating first fic; an abomination in itself: Harry Potter Meets Spiderman, plus one extra vampiric obsessive- compulsive handwasher. 'WHY?!' you scream, tearing your hair out and slamming your head against the walls. Why? WHY, you say? Because I said so. Also because we couldn't decide which ones were worse. But mostly because I said so. And yes, we do sometimes let our evil minions scream obscenities, but we put them in symbol- speak (&*%$, *#@$, etc.) most of the time because it's much more fun to say "$%|%!!!" than it is to say, "Shit. There is a three- inch rusty nail embedded in my forehead." TTFN, enjoy the ride. *Lights dim*
(Ahem). Harry and Ron were seated in the common room at Hogwarts, doing nothing, as we all know no one ever does ANYTHING until the MS shows up. "So, Ron, care to discuss politics? Golf? How poor you are? Diarrhea- inducing foods?" Harry was just trying to start a conversation, folks. Don't be too hard on him. "Mph," answered his redheaded counterpart, who was busy picking those little fuzzballs off his orange-and-lime-green sweater. There was a four-foot high pile of them on the floor next to him. Harry decided to lose it, so as to buy time to keep the readers enthralled. "WHERE IS SHE?! She ought to be here by now. They always are." Ron nodded absently. This was not usually a good sign. It was just a few seconds until.yep, there he went. "AAAUUUGGHH!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Harry, clutching his head. "MY SCAR IS KILLING ME!!! AAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!" he sank to his knees. "Goodbye, cruel world.." He was stretched out on the floor, twitching. Ron glanced at him to make sure he hadn't popped a blood vessel like last time and continued with his fuzzball- picking.
FWUMP.
From the ceiling she fell, right on top of the twitching Harry. At first it appeared to be a giant bat, or a corpse. Ron was alarmed, thinking that whatever sent those deplorable creatures had accidentally sent them a dead one. He leaned over and studied the writhing, screeching THING that was going to be the love interest of one of them. Ron crossed his fingers and hoped it was another transvestite going for Hermione. Bloody hilarious, that had been.
Meanwhile, Harry was quite startled, as you might imagine, to find a large heavy black sheet on top of him as he twitched. He thought for a moment it was the Grim Reaper, or maybe a dementor, but there was no long black hair on a dementor. The most important thing, Harry remembered, was to get it OFF him, as it was violently attacking him with its fists. Only when it began the high- pitched wail that was so familiar did he realize that THIS was the new fangirl. He scrabbled up, shoving it savagely off him, and listened to the satisfying thump as it hit the floor. The thing screeched again as it landed, head over heels, in the doorway. It rose, slowly and rather creepily (a la Samara in 'The Ring') so that it stood a full four inches taller than Ron. "Um..hi?" Harry said, oh so painfully lamely. The thing uttered a guttral noise and began to speak. It was obviously female, as the MSs usually were, and its black sheetlike garb made it look taller than it actually was. It could have possibly been some kind of old fashioned wizard's robe. It raised a black- clothed arm and from under the huge, bell- like sleeves a deathly white hand appeared and pointed straight at Harry. "You," she (for it was definitely a she) said, in a husky, low voice, "You must tell me.where I am." She shoved her hair back, revealing a face the same shade as the hand, save for ruby- red lips that were a little smudged and dark purplish circles under the eyes, which were impossibly large and a burgundy shade that wouldn't have looked bad on some throw pillows. Her fingernails were painted red and were kind of chipped. This was definitely the last fangirl in the box, thought Ron, dumbfounded. They sent us the defective one. At least the other ones had big boobs. "Why do you not speak, boy? Tell me who you are. And tell me where to find a sink. Quickly. She began to twist one of her trailing sleeves. All of a sudden, who bursts in but- you guessed it- Spiderman, in full costume, dragging Hermione behind like a Yorkshire terrier on seventeen cappucinos. "Make way! Move it, kid!" Spidey shoved the stupefied Harry aside, and propelled Hermione into the washroom. The door clicked shut. "We were..*gasp* *wheeze* studying.she drank..*wheeze* seven glasses of iced tea with pumpkin..closest bathroom was here..other ones.all out of order..." the Dynamite Duo directed their dumbfounded and rather idiotic stares toward Spiderman. Finally Ron found the will to speak, buried in the back of his mind between last night's Potions homework and a pile of dandelion fluff that much resembled the pile of fuzzballs. "Y- you..study...with.her?" His voice went up an octave at the last word. Spiderman furrowed his brow. Those damn British accents."Yes. Me.study.book.with.girl..in..potty." Awkward silence, then, "ACK!! Can't she hurry up?" The corpse- Mary-Sue was practically foaming at the mouth. " I NEED to wash my hands.wash.wash.." She began to gnaw nervously on her lower lip. The stupefied stares aimed back in her direction, and she met them with her creepy eyes. Her gaze fell on Spiderman, who had taken off his mask. "And what," she purred, suddenly suave though she was gritting her teeth for lack of a sink, "pray tell, is YOUR name?" "Uh..Spiderman. But you can call me Peter. And, uh, your name, miss?" The girl smiled slowly. "My name is Belwyn (Notice the smallest hint of fangirl in the name?), a lady of the night. What do you do for a living, Petey?" "Well, I, uh, used to be a Muggle superhero and defender of justice, but, ah, I was running out of money and living on bologna sandwiches so I decided to get a job as a security guard here." "Ah. So. Who do y-" Belwyn was off like a shot, as Hermione had just stepped out of the bathroom. She shoved the bushy- haired girl into a potted plant and slammed the door. They could all hear the water running full-blast. "Oh.oh my," said Hermione, who fainted accordingly, as most female characters in Mary Sues have very little character and very little backbone. The stupefied glances shifted to her, and then the creature emerging from the washroom, who was an even scarier sight after she had been absent from the room for ten minutes. "I'm hungry. Which one of you is up for lunch?" ________________________________________________________________________ Ah, yes. How'd ya like it? I tried not to put too many idiotic statements in, so as not to scare off the potential readers out there. If you have any major qualms about this story or the style in which it was written, or just want to whine about something, go to the pretty review button and click it. A window entitled, "Type, you morons" should pop up. You 'type' by pushing the keys on the keyboard, which you should have in front of you. Look down at the keyboard. Amazingly, the 'keys' have letters on them! When you push a key, a letter pops up on the screen. WOW! You are a genius! You have mastered typing! You deserve a reward, go out and treat yourself to some ice cream. Ah, yes, I nearly forgot. Next Chapter: Chapter 3, Enter the Realm of the Sappy Blathering UTTERLY REDUNDANT and MOST POPULAR Mary Sue fanfic, the LEGOLAS MELODRAMA-er, LEGOLAS SNOGGING FANGI-er, LEGOLAS MARY- SUE FIC. The ever-popular, the "10" on the Barf-O-Meter, the Big-Ass Cahuna. The Walking Herbal Essence Commercial Showdown. The Only Thing Worse Than Sailor Moon Fics. The Annoying Auntie of the Fanfiction Family. The Fic Which Could Be Accompanied Entirely By N*Sync Music. Yes, my dears, I am an anti-Legolas-fangirl. Enter the redundancy (wonderful display of said quality above, eh? I tried real hard to overload my adjectives). Enter the barfworthiness. Enter the punk rocker with seven earrings and green- tipped hair and her redneck counterpart. Muahahahhahaha.
Our First Actual Chapter. Ah. Don't you just love that new chapter smell? During the course of our lovely little tour (please do not molest the tour guide) we will be going back and forth between the three fics, so as to make the readers think they are watching a very bad soap opera (ever seen 'Passions'? Yeah, that bad). So, without further ado, let me present to you the lesser known yet oh-so-nauseating first fic; an abomination in itself: Harry Potter Meets Spiderman, plus one extra vampiric obsessive- compulsive handwasher. 'WHY?!' you scream, tearing your hair out and slamming your head against the walls. Why? WHY, you say? Because I said so. Also because we couldn't decide which ones were worse. But mostly because I said so. And yes, we do sometimes let our evil minions scream obscenities, but we put them in symbol- speak (&*%$, *#@$, etc.) most of the time because it's much more fun to say "$%|%!!!" than it is to say, "Shit. There is a three- inch rusty nail embedded in my forehead." TTFN, enjoy the ride. *Lights dim*
(Ahem). Harry and Ron were seated in the common room at Hogwarts, doing nothing, as we all know no one ever does ANYTHING until the MS shows up. "So, Ron, care to discuss politics? Golf? How poor you are? Diarrhea- inducing foods?" Harry was just trying to start a conversation, folks. Don't be too hard on him. "Mph," answered his redheaded counterpart, who was busy picking those little fuzzballs off his orange-and-lime-green sweater. There was a four-foot high pile of them on the floor next to him. Harry decided to lose it, so as to buy time to keep the readers enthralled. "WHERE IS SHE?! She ought to be here by now. They always are." Ron nodded absently. This was not usually a good sign. It was just a few seconds until.yep, there he went. "AAAUUUGGHH!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Harry, clutching his head. "MY SCAR IS KILLING ME!!! AAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!" he sank to his knees. "Goodbye, cruel world.." He was stretched out on the floor, twitching. Ron glanced at him to make sure he hadn't popped a blood vessel like last time and continued with his fuzzball- picking.
FWUMP.
From the ceiling she fell, right on top of the twitching Harry. At first it appeared to be a giant bat, or a corpse. Ron was alarmed, thinking that whatever sent those deplorable creatures had accidentally sent them a dead one. He leaned over and studied the writhing, screeching THING that was going to be the love interest of one of them. Ron crossed his fingers and hoped it was another transvestite going for Hermione. Bloody hilarious, that had been.
Meanwhile, Harry was quite startled, as you might imagine, to find a large heavy black sheet on top of him as he twitched. He thought for a moment it was the Grim Reaper, or maybe a dementor, but there was no long black hair on a dementor. The most important thing, Harry remembered, was to get it OFF him, as it was violently attacking him with its fists. Only when it began the high- pitched wail that was so familiar did he realize that THIS was the new fangirl. He scrabbled up, shoving it savagely off him, and listened to the satisfying thump as it hit the floor. The thing screeched again as it landed, head over heels, in the doorway. It rose, slowly and rather creepily (a la Samara in 'The Ring') so that it stood a full four inches taller than Ron. "Um..hi?" Harry said, oh so painfully lamely. The thing uttered a guttral noise and began to speak. It was obviously female, as the MSs usually were, and its black sheetlike garb made it look taller than it actually was. It could have possibly been some kind of old fashioned wizard's robe. It raised a black- clothed arm and from under the huge, bell- like sleeves a deathly white hand appeared and pointed straight at Harry. "You," she (for it was definitely a she) said, in a husky, low voice, "You must tell me.where I am." She shoved her hair back, revealing a face the same shade as the hand, save for ruby- red lips that were a little smudged and dark purplish circles under the eyes, which were impossibly large and a burgundy shade that wouldn't have looked bad on some throw pillows. Her fingernails were painted red and were kind of chipped. This was definitely the last fangirl in the box, thought Ron, dumbfounded. They sent us the defective one. At least the other ones had big boobs. "Why do you not speak, boy? Tell me who you are. And tell me where to find a sink. Quickly. She began to twist one of her trailing sleeves. All of a sudden, who bursts in but- you guessed it- Spiderman, in full costume, dragging Hermione behind like a Yorkshire terrier on seventeen cappucinos. "Make way! Move it, kid!" Spidey shoved the stupefied Harry aside, and propelled Hermione into the washroom. The door clicked shut. "We were..*gasp* *wheeze* studying.she drank..*wheeze* seven glasses of iced tea with pumpkin..closest bathroom was here..other ones.all out of order..." the Dynamite Duo directed their dumbfounded and rather idiotic stares toward Spiderman. Finally Ron found the will to speak, buried in the back of his mind between last night's Potions homework and a pile of dandelion fluff that much resembled the pile of fuzzballs. "Y- you..study...with.her?" His voice went up an octave at the last word. Spiderman furrowed his brow. Those damn British accents."Yes. Me.study.book.with.girl..in..potty." Awkward silence, then, "ACK!! Can't she hurry up?" The corpse- Mary-Sue was practically foaming at the mouth. " I NEED to wash my hands.wash.wash.." She began to gnaw nervously on her lower lip. The stupefied stares aimed back in her direction, and she met them with her creepy eyes. Her gaze fell on Spiderman, who had taken off his mask. "And what," she purred, suddenly suave though she was gritting her teeth for lack of a sink, "pray tell, is YOUR name?" "Uh..Spiderman. But you can call me Peter. And, uh, your name, miss?" The girl smiled slowly. "My name is Belwyn (Notice the smallest hint of fangirl in the name?), a lady of the night. What do you do for a living, Petey?" "Well, I, uh, used to be a Muggle superhero and defender of justice, but, ah, I was running out of money and living on bologna sandwiches so I decided to get a job as a security guard here." "Ah. So. Who do y-" Belwyn was off like a shot, as Hermione had just stepped out of the bathroom. She shoved the bushy- haired girl into a potted plant and slammed the door. They could all hear the water running full-blast. "Oh.oh my," said Hermione, who fainted accordingly, as most female characters in Mary Sues have very little character and very little backbone. The stupefied glances shifted to her, and then the creature emerging from the washroom, who was an even scarier sight after she had been absent from the room for ten minutes. "I'm hungry. Which one of you is up for lunch?" ________________________________________________________________________ Ah, yes. How'd ya like it? I tried not to put too many idiotic statements in, so as not to scare off the potential readers out there. If you have any major qualms about this story or the style in which it was written, or just want to whine about something, go to the pretty review button and click it. A window entitled, "Type, you morons" should pop up. You 'type' by pushing the keys on the keyboard, which you should have in front of you. Look down at the keyboard. Amazingly, the 'keys' have letters on them! When you push a key, a letter pops up on the screen. WOW! You are a genius! You have mastered typing! You deserve a reward, go out and treat yourself to some ice cream. Ah, yes, I nearly forgot. Next Chapter: Chapter 3, Enter the Realm of the Sappy Blathering UTTERLY REDUNDANT and MOST POPULAR Mary Sue fanfic, the LEGOLAS MELODRAMA-er, LEGOLAS SNOGGING FANGI-er, LEGOLAS MARY- SUE FIC. The ever-popular, the "10" on the Barf-O-Meter, the Big-Ass Cahuna. The Walking Herbal Essence Commercial Showdown. The Only Thing Worse Than Sailor Moon Fics. The Annoying Auntie of the Fanfiction Family. The Fic Which Could Be Accompanied Entirely By N*Sync Music. Yes, my dears, I am an anti-Legolas-fangirl. Enter the redundancy (wonderful display of said quality above, eh? I tried real hard to overload my adjectives). Enter the barfworthiness. Enter the punk rocker with seven earrings and green- tipped hair and her redneck counterpart. Muahahahhahaha.