Disclaimer: What are the points of these things. If I

owned the story, it would be published. Own Sammy tho,

(she doesn't know it yet)

Aly sat at her computer to her right was Sammy, the avid fanfiction who told her to write this story. To her left was T.c., the Apple nerd. He actually understood how these infernal things worked.

Aly struggled in search of a topic, a subject, anything that would give her a fanfic worthy of her new name. She could do a yaoi between Jin and Hwaorang, but nah; she was not in the mood. She began to daydream, about a certain red headed fellow she was crushing on. Ah… Russell, such dear topic in her mind, but he was gone far away in a foreign land called Tennessee, behind the confines of a coed boarding school.

When she typed in foreign it was underlined in red, red was the color of her nemesis: spelling. The English langue had something against our young protagonist.

The spiffy Tiffany, who sat to the far left turned to her, And said in her awesome voice, "This is the shirt," She pointed to a tee shirt on the screen. It was cameo green, and had three Army soldiers on it with instruments; she wanted to get it for their history teacher, Mr. Williams.

Aly gazed at it, it was nice and she was willing to chip in for the price. , "Sure I'll help out."

Tiffany turned back to her screen, leaving Aly to her tale. But Aly gave up her muse had deserted her in her time of need. She gave up her search for a tale to tell, for now.

She looked at her screen and all she had written was:

Releana was dead, and the world was at peace!


Hahaha. It's a fanfiction about writing a fanfiction,so back off.