Disclaimer: IIIIIIIII'MMMMMM BAAAAAAAAACCCCCCK! You couldn't keep me down! Since fanfiction.net took this story off, I've officially hated them, but now I've rewritten it so there shouldn't be any problems. The only difference is that this story is now told in actual story format, and will now have a small plot running in the background. It also begins by explain how some teenagers came to own a studio.

And just a note, some of the characters in this story are based off real people. Like the main character, Carolyn, looks exactly like me and has my name. Katie, Caitlin, Lauren and Tom are also real people. But people like Cronos, Sam, Alex, and Dr. Sloth, are fictional characters. This story was killed by the ff.net staff before it had a chance to get REALLY funny, so I hope this one will get the chance the first one never had.

Thank you.

-Carolyn

"Twenty, Twenty, Twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated!" The headphones screamed into Carolyn's throbbing eardrums. "Nothing to do, nowhere to go, I wanna be sedated!"

"Why would he want to be sedated just because he's bored?" Carolyn thought frowning. Her head began to ache badly as it always did when she encountered a difficult thought. She turned her walkman off, pulled off her headphones, opened the CD compartment, and flung the offending CD into the fireplace like a Frisbee. She hated songs that confused her. She almost threw her CD player too, but decided against it.

"I better not." She sighed dropping it on the floor. "That piece of crap WAS expensive."

Carolyn was a pretty 14-year-old girl with short blond hair and eyes that were such a pale shade of blue they were almost gray. She was wearing a light blue t-shirt with baggy blue jeans. Over the t-shirt, she wore a cloak that was a slightly darker shade of blue. It had been woven into the pattern of vertical lines, and it hung down to her knees. The front was open and it was tied in front of her chest, showing off the t-shirt and jeans underneath. She also wore white sneakers. Her skin was a fair shade of white.

She lay sprawled out on the overstuffed couch of her living room. She picked up the remote control, which was lying on the floor underneath a month-old pile of uneaten potato chips, and flipped on the TV. Some moron was yakking on and on about a miracle pancake-maker. She changed the channel in disgust.

"Recent studies have shown-"

CLICK! She changed the channel again.

"Some doctors believe-"

CLICK!

 "I…ate…a…Twinkie."


CLICK!

 "THE END OF THE WORLD HAS COME!"

BORING! CLICK!

"I HATE MY JOB!"

CLICK!

"MAN!" Carolyn yelled at the TV. "WHY IS THERE NOTHING GOOD ON?!" She pointed the remote at the TV again, but she didn't press any buttons. "THE NEXT CHANNEL HAD BETTER HAVE SOMETHING GOOD! OR DESTINY-ALTERING! I COMMAND YOU!" She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed two random buttons. When she opened her eyes, she saw she'd pressed the buttons 1 and 3.

"This does not bode well." She sighed.

Suddenly a hole appeared in the space-time-continuum. Carolyn didn't know it yet, but this turn of events would throw her, and everyone she didn't entirely hate, into a world of darkness and unmatched stupidity from which there is no escape.

There was a reporter on Channel 13 yapping about something. Behind her, paramedics were loading TONS of body bags into a truck.

"…So it seems that the owner of Channel 13, Mr. Calvin Rockhead, has murdered his entire staff, and all the stars and crew of every show that's ever appeared on the channel. He even went so far as to kill all the rats and cockroaches in the building. And to make the murders even stranger, each victim was found with his or her imagination sucked dry!"

(That was an important plot point!)

The reporter continued talking. "After killing his employees, Mr. Rockhead has mysteriously vanished. Since everyone who used to work for the network is dead, the channel is up for sale. The bidding starts at $13,000,000."

"$13,000,000?" Carolyn laughed. "That's chicken feed!" She smiled as she thought about the massive sum of money in her increasingly growing overseas bank account. She'd gotten all that money after a few scams she'd pulled had gone horribly right. The incident had earned her the nickname 'Mistress of the Con'.

Suddenly the door flew open and one of Carolyn's best friends, named Katie, burst in causing Carolyn to jumped a foot off the couch in surprise.

Katie was also a pretty 14-year-old girl. (She was 2 days older than Carolyn). She had reddish-brown hair that hung halfway down her back. She had brown eyes and was wearing a black t-shirt that said: 'I'm with stupid' in red letters with an arrow pointing to the right. Under the shirt, she wore black fishnets that went up and down both her arms. She had pale white skin, from a serious lack of sunlight, and was slightly shorter than Carolyn.

But even though the two girls had similar interests, their intelligence levels were MUCH different. Carolyn was above average when it came to intelligence. (She once conned Bill Gates). But Katie was a totally different matter. Last summer (under the legally-binding contract of a triple-dog-dare), she'd snorted an entire jumbo pixie stick. The extreme sugar-rush flooding her brain, had killed the calm, normal, reasonable Katie, and ushered in a new, insane, hyper, randomness, moronic Katie, with the capacities of a good-natured 7-year-old and some canine tendencies.

"EVER HEAR OF KNOCKING, YA DUMBASS?!" Carolyn swore, as she often did when someone scared her.

"DID YOU HEAR THE NEWS?!" Katie wailed. "CHANNEL 13 IS FOR SALE!"

 "So I've heard." Carolyn said in her normally calm demeanor. She flipped off the TV.

"BUT THIS MEANS THAT ALL MY FAVORITE SHOW WILL BE CANCELED!" Katie continued to bawl, "THERE'S P.R, LAW AND BORDER, THE DAILY CLUELESS, AND AMAZING HAPPY FUN-TIME HOUR!"

"Those shows sucked." Carolyn said rolling her eyes. "I never watched that channel anyway. Shows like that rot your brain…or whatever's left in your head."

"My head is full of dust bunnies." Katie hummed, suddenly cheerful. "Fuzzy little bunnies…"

"That's exactly my point." Carolyn sighed. "So what do you want me to do about Channel Craptacular?"

Katie smiled broadly. "You know all that money you have stashed in that overseas bank account?"

 "What about it?"

"YOU COULD BUY THE CHANNEL, CREATE A TV SHOW, AND WE COULD PRODUCE IT!" Katie suddenly screamed going into 'depraved spaz mode'.

"You're joking right?" Carolyn laughed. "Why would I need to produce a television show? I've got everything I need. A PS2, a Gamecube, a username on Legendaryfrog.com, Internet access, a stash of anime DVDs, Kazaa, and a massive overseas bank account that gets bigger everyday. My Internet could be a lot faster (damn dial-up), and Kazaa gave my computer a virus the other day, but I'm happy just the way I am."

"Please?" Katie asked. Her eyes were slowly filling with tears.

"No." Carolyn retorted. Katie's eye narrowed.

"Alright." She growled. "I didn't want to have to use this method, but you leave me no choice."

Suddenly she dropped on her knees, folded her hands, and started sobbing. "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEASSSSSSEEEEE????!!!!"

"FINE!" Carolyn roared going into her 'crazed ballistic demonic mode'. She quickly regained herself and calmly said: "If we can find a group of people with as little common sense as you, far too much free-time, and little or no brains, to help us create this show…then yes. I will buy Channel 13."

"WE'RE GONNA BE TV STARS! WHEEEEEEEE!" Katie cheered running around the house at the speed of sound. As she finished her fifth lap across the living room, Carolyn sighed.

"I don't know how this will turn out, lets just wait and see." She thought silently as Katie ran into a wall.