A/N: I HATE MYSELF!!! I SUCK!!! Ahem. It has taken nearly every ounce of self-motivation [and about 2 pints of gelato] to make me to pump up the energy to move my fingers and fire up nerves in my brain to write this. They ought to invent some sort of reminder machine that pokes you incessantly until you finish whatever it is you're supposed to do. I promised myself I'd update, since I'm going to be gone for two weeks [[HAH!! AN EXCUSE!!]] but I promise I shall update all of them once I get back. Or you can send me blended pickles. . or you know. Whatever.

The self-proclaimed leader beckons the rest of us around here in a football-esque huddle. "Ok. So Spot..went over to the dark side," she chokes out as the rest of us hang our heads in grief. For alas, without the ever fearless leader, what are we to do? Curl up, whimper, and generally carry on, no doubt.

"Do you know what that means?" She asks us in a hushed, conspiratorial tone.

"Yes!" A delusioned, gawky and gangly girl shrieks. "We're DOOMED!!"

The other girls are nodding their heads and saying things like, "Doom," "End," and "Aah!"

The leader rolls her eyes to the heavens and looks as if she would like to throw strawberries at the girl, but instead throws her hands up. "Aaargh! Whatsa mattah with you people??"

We all look rather startled. Like deer. Without spots. Spotless deer, if you will. "Umm…we don't have accents?"

She ignores the anonymous comment and emphasizes, "We don't need Spot."

All of us gasp, even the ones who don't particularly care for him. He would be proud to see that so many girls are in need of him.

"We can hang on our own! We don't need that pompous, barmy, sexy codger! We can strike on our own!" Her voice gets stronger with every word. While we stare at her, open-mouthed and apparently speechless.

"It's up to us now! We gotta save the boys we love! C'mon!!" She shouts confidently. She's very loud. So loud, in fact, we're surprised none of the Mary-Sues have come out to investigate on who is interrupting their precious Newises-loving time. Or in fact, any pedestrians at all. It seems like they have all ceased to exist at the creation of these Stepford-Wives-deja-vus.

We look at each other.

"But what if the Mary Sues..?" The previous girls questions, trailing off and shuddering at the thought of the perfect, asphyxia-causing girls.

"Mary sues, Schmary..er...Shoes. We're afraid of our own creations people!" the head author reiterates.

But this new revelation is startling.

"We.. WE made them up?" A petite girl asks.

"Uh…yeah!" She implicates in a very "duh" voice. "Where do you think they come from, Santa? Little gnomes??"

"That wouldn't surprise me," another girl mutters under her breath. "The gnomes are everywhere…"

Our new fearless leader, only not as sexy as Spot, ignores this comment yet again. "Look it's pretty obvious what we gotta do. We all made them up, we know what their weaknesses are!"

As our confidence rises, cries of "yeah!", "Kill them Mary-Sues!", and "DIE DIE DIE!" echo throughout the crowd.

"LET'S GET 'EM!!!" She screams, running off in no particular direction.

We look at each other again, shrug, and run after her screaming for the rights of newsie fanfiction writers everywhere to keep their boys.

"This is it," the leader chick hisses. It is now night, and we are all crouched uncomfortably in uncomfortable bushes, across the street from the Lodging House. "We need to stake this place out, and devise a plan to jump those damn ho's!" She also then proceeds to swear in a long, colorful string of various words.

In response to our surprised stares, she snaps, "I used to live in Oakland, okay??" She draws in a deep breath. "I'm just worked up. I had no idea they had so much power."

We nod a bit, and unconsciously edge slightly away from her. For the next few minutes, we stay there in silence with baited breath, watching silhouettes and listening to voices.

A shadow of fairly large height comes near the window, and all at once, one of the girls falls over in the bushes with a loud and distinctive klunk. "OW!!!"

"SHHHHHH!!" We all hush her at once, which in itself, is not what you would call quiet.

Boss Girl glares at the offender. "Do you want them to hear you??"

"Sorry, sorry," she says hurriedly, still staring fixedly at the window. "That's Skittery!"

We crane our heads, hoping to somehow focus our eyes better in the dark. Unfortunately, we are not among some of the blessed Mary-Sues, who can see well in any lighting. "How can you TELL?" Another girl asks with a voice that is admiring and borderline this-girl-is-obsessed.

"A fan girl ALWAYS knows," the Skittery-obsessed-fan says knowingly, and sighs contentedly.

"You can look at him later!" says Guess Who. "We need to—" She is cut off by the sound of a creaking door. A curvy, girlish silhouette appears in front of the lodging house. Apparently, the klunk was louder than we thought. Either that, or this is one of the Mary-Sues who has better-than-average hearing.

She takes a confident stride forward, a very determined look on her face. Our leader buries her head in her hands and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, "Damn Skittery fans." The Mary-Sue is about 4 feet away from us, when Blink's voice echoes from the door.

"What're ya doin' out heah, Stars?" He asks lovingly.

She whips her head around, neatly tossing her long dark blonde hair (that so annoyingly wisps into her eyes so she can't help but look innocent) over her shoulder. "Oh nothing, honey-kins," she replies sweetly. He walks up to her and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. "I thought I just heard a..noise."

"Noises ain't important. Not while yer around," he says dismissively and yet also passionately, while she giggles, all thoughts of finding intrusions out seemingly gone. As they start to really go at it in the middle of the street, we creep away as stealthily as we can. We can still hear Blink murmuring, "Mm, your hair smells like lemons." We aren't very successful in keeping quiet, since the Blink fans are beyond murderous, but we ignore their snarls of "Lemme' at 'er!" and drag them away. However, Blink and Stars, as she is quite perfectly called, are so lost in each other that they notice nothing.

We retreat to a corner further away, partly so we won't be seen, and partly because the Blink fans are both seething and nauseous.

"So?" The Skittery Fan asks. "What do we do now?"

The leader narrows her eyes in thought, staring up at the sky. Several of us, including one of the Blink fans hunched over on the sidewalk look up at the sky as well. "Eugh, stars. I don't think I can look at the sky AGAIN," the one-eyed-newsie-loving girl says, and promptly leans over the gutter and heaves. This starts off another round of throwing-up, ranting, and shuddering.

"Well," The Cheiftain of Newsie Fanfiction Authors says over the wonderful sound of hurling. "We gotta.." She is once again cut off by her own train of thought and looks around. "Hang on." She walks quietly around the corner that leads to the Lodging House and peers, wide-eyed. She gestures frantically for us to go over, putting a finger over her mouth. We peer around as well. All the lights in the Lodging House are now out, but what's this? One by one, the Mary-Sues are filing out the door, walking much more stealthily across the cobblestone pavement in boots than we do in sneakers.

"It's like watching Hitler's Army," the formerly-hurling-Blink-fan whispers disgustedly. Our Head Honcho is too deep in concentration to scold her for talking.

The last Mary-Sue, a petite and slender girl with boobs to die for, looks around the deserted street, and closes the door quietly, then follows the line of flawless teenaged girls. The line sneaks down the street and disappears around the corner, as quiet as if nothing is happening.

"C'mon!! We gotta follow them!" Our Head Girl whispers desperately and trips down the street as quietly as she can. We somehow follow suit, managing not to make too much noise, but still occasionally stepping on one another's heels.

How can so many Mary-Sues not make any noise at all? They walk silently and quickly, not talking or making eye contact with one another. Then, they stop. Quietly.

We stop too, but we end up pushing each other's backs and choking on mouthfuls of hair. Our hair isn't perfectly groomed or scented with lemons, either.

"Gross, when was the last time you took a shower??"

"That's none of your business!"

"Yes, that's right, I use Garnier Fructis. Doesn't it smell wonderful?"

"It certainly doesn't taste good.."

"SHUT UP!!!" You Know Who hisses. "We've gotten this far, and I'm not going to come all this way to get beaten by some monsters we created. And when I say we, I mean you guys. I certainly did not waste my time writing about perfect girls," she says in a superior tone.

"Oh, excuse me.."

"Yeah, who made her boss?"

But we shut up anyway. We want to see our boys safe, too. Maybe even have a little fun with them.

The Mary-Sue's are in front of a large, factory type building. The girl at the front inserts a key into a door, which slides open smoothly. The line of girls files inside the dark interior, and after the last girl is inside, the door shuts once again. The unmistakable sound of a lock turning clicks.

Our Bell Cow does not even need to tell us twice. Or once, for that matter. We tiptoe across the ground to the dark and foreboding building under pale moonlight. All of us walk around to the side, but there does not appear to be any lights coming from inside.

The Skittery Fan suddenly points to the top. There is a skylight at the top, and there just happens to be light spilling out of it. We all stare at her, our meaning clear. How do we get up?

"Human pyramid," she whispers, quieter than usual. "I used to be a cheerleader." Faster than you could say, "The diabolical plan of Mary-Sues," we have formed our own human ladder. A bit wobbly, but doable.

The leader chick nods her head approvingly. "Glad to know cheerleading is good for something." Before the Skittery Fan can open her mouth in protest, our leader has started climbing to the top. However, just as she has reached the rooftop, one of the girls on the bottom gives a groan.

"Too. Heavy." She grunts. She sways uncertainly, almost knocking over her neighbor.

But her neighbor manages to get out, "Mush. Do it for Mush."

The former changes suddenly, straightens her arms, and nods her head resolutely. Head Girl breathes a sigh of relief, and hoists herself onto the roof. The former also sighs, contentedly, for now the load is lightening. One by one, we are pulled onto the rooftop, and once we are all there, we peer through the skylight cautiously, almost afraid of what we are about to see.

A/N: There. Is that long enough? I promise I shall update it whence I get back! This may be drawn out a bit—a lot of my stories are like that. Just let me know if it gets too long.

Anykurwa…

Chaos89: New reviewer! Yay! Haha. Don't worry, Spot shall return to the bright side.

BoogityWhup14: Oh allright! I take back my apology, then. :P pity you don't like the red polka dots.. Whatever, all types of elephants that are used for our evil bidding are fine with me!

The world MUST MUST MUST be warned. I wonder if we can send out fliers of some sort..

Asp: Thanks! It's nice to have encouragement.

Coin: YAY!! Then my purpose is fulfilled. To make you .. crack up. (yes, sometimes ONLY you, actually)