I have alarming news, my friends, concerned with my crusade
To rid the world of Mary-Sues (or just to get them laid.)
Their unique brand of stupidity, in desperation founded,
Now seems to be no longer on the Net so solely grounded.
A case in point: yesterday as I was sitting with a friend
Watching The Two Towers solemnly (and cheering at the end)
Two teenage girls sat down beside us nearly halfway through.
I hate it when people do that; they always obstruct the view.
Of course, they giggled every time Orlando came on screen,
But (less unusually) almost every whisper was obscene!
They talked about the kind of stuff I wouldn't say to my shrink
And most of it concerned Legolas (not to mention the kitchen sink).
While I was quite disturbed, I thought- I shouldn't be a prude,
These girls are old enough to realise what they're saying's rude,
And if they wish to reveal their dreams and sexual fantasies
In a movie theatre TO ANOTHER GIRL, it's nothing to do with me.
Then came the most upsetting bit of the tale I have to tell.
One girl said, as the movie climaxed and the music swelled,
"Imagine if I was a princess and Legolas rescued me!"
The other replied, "Ooh, how romantic!" with every trace of glee.
They then spent twenty minutes ignoring the face of Monsieur Bloom
And refining, in GRAPHIC detail, the plot of their Mary-Suer tune.
Save me! I was screaming by the end, as every cliché-
The rescue, the forbidden-love, keeping Loverboy at bay
With fierce tomboy spirits which eventually give in
"To their twin beating hearts"- was rolled out. Every sin
That Mary-Suers ever found their joy in lay quite bare
Before me in the theatre. I had to get out of there!
(Of course, I didn't leave until the ending- those two nuts
Weren't stopping me from seeing Frodo as the Black Gate shuts!)
I stumbled out as Peter Jackson's name rose, gasping air
And hoping murder was no longer a capital-punishment affair.
The two girls trotted by me, their eyes glazing, chattering fast
About their heroine- injured, of course, after a near-fatal blast
Of lightning. Isn't everyone original these days?
I'm so glad public minds and sanity have parted ways.
Mary-Sues now invade the street, the shops, the shopping mall,
And (most dangerous to all people) the public movie hall.
Be on your guard at every time, and if one comes your way,
Pretend you cannot hear it and perhaps it will go away.
The plague is spreading now to the weak minds of the populace,
All twittering about Orlando's charismatic face.
Together we can stop this dreaded sickness in its tracks.
If you sight a depraved individual, inform them of the fact
That O. Bloom is NOT L. Of Mirkwood, no matter what they believe,
And that minds which think up all this trash can only grossly peeve.
(I do this nice persuasion with a rather biggish stick,
But words can work occasionally. So can a fierce kick.)
To rid the world of Mary-Sues (or just to get them laid.)
Their unique brand of stupidity, in desperation founded,
Now seems to be no longer on the Net so solely grounded.
A case in point: yesterday as I was sitting with a friend
Watching The Two Towers solemnly (and cheering at the end)
Two teenage girls sat down beside us nearly halfway through.
I hate it when people do that; they always obstruct the view.
Of course, they giggled every time Orlando came on screen,
But (less unusually) almost every whisper was obscene!
They talked about the kind of stuff I wouldn't say to my shrink
And most of it concerned Legolas (not to mention the kitchen sink).
While I was quite disturbed, I thought- I shouldn't be a prude,
These girls are old enough to realise what they're saying's rude,
And if they wish to reveal their dreams and sexual fantasies
In a movie theatre TO ANOTHER GIRL, it's nothing to do with me.
Then came the most upsetting bit of the tale I have to tell.
One girl said, as the movie climaxed and the music swelled,
"Imagine if I was a princess and Legolas rescued me!"
The other replied, "Ooh, how romantic!" with every trace of glee.
They then spent twenty minutes ignoring the face of Monsieur Bloom
And refining, in GRAPHIC detail, the plot of their Mary-Suer tune.
Save me! I was screaming by the end, as every cliché-
The rescue, the forbidden-love, keeping Loverboy at bay
With fierce tomboy spirits which eventually give in
"To their twin beating hearts"- was rolled out. Every sin
That Mary-Suers ever found their joy in lay quite bare
Before me in the theatre. I had to get out of there!
(Of course, I didn't leave until the ending- those two nuts
Weren't stopping me from seeing Frodo as the Black Gate shuts!)
I stumbled out as Peter Jackson's name rose, gasping air
And hoping murder was no longer a capital-punishment affair.
The two girls trotted by me, their eyes glazing, chattering fast
About their heroine- injured, of course, after a near-fatal blast
Of lightning. Isn't everyone original these days?
I'm so glad public minds and sanity have parted ways.
Mary-Sues now invade the street, the shops, the shopping mall,
And (most dangerous to all people) the public movie hall.
Be on your guard at every time, and if one comes your way,
Pretend you cannot hear it and perhaps it will go away.
The plague is spreading now to the weak minds of the populace,
All twittering about Orlando's charismatic face.
Together we can stop this dreaded sickness in its tracks.
If you sight a depraved individual, inform them of the fact
That O. Bloom is NOT L. Of Mirkwood, no matter what they believe,
And that minds which think up all this trash can only grossly peeve.
(I do this nice persuasion with a rather biggish stick,
But words can work occasionally. So can a fierce kick.)