Hey! I am soooo sorry about the long wait, but the Olympics were on, and I got addicted to them, and so all my writing time was taken away. And then when I had this written, my beta couldn't read over it because she's in school, so it was crazy, but it's all good now.

An eight-year-older Elizabeth woke up with a start. "Woah, what a weird dream!" she said to herself.

"That wasn't a dream you twit, it was a flashback!" she replied, her old, and until now believed to be cured, schizophrenia returning.

"Ooo, look! I have cleavage!" she exclaimed, the dumb half ignoring the logical one. They looked down and saw that indeed, her chest was practically popping out of her dress. The hem of her dress was also at her knees. "I have got to stop wearing the dresses I owned when I was ten," she muttered to herself. Her musings were interrupted by a knock at her door. "Come in!" she called.

The door opened and in stepped...

Darth Vader.

"Elizabeth, you have the force in you. Join the dark side."

Elizabeth reached in to her bureau and pulled out her weapon: a sparkly baby blue rubber chicken. She pointed it at Darth Vader. "Never," she replied.

Darth Vader reached in to his cloak and pulled out his own hot pink chicken. The two began a heated fight in which they climbed all over the furniture and walls in the bedroom, their chickens making noises that sounded like they were being strangled rather than cawing.

Elizabeth swung her arm forward, making a disturbing and loud sound from her chicken, and hit Darth Vader over the head with her chicken. "Ow!" he cried out in pain. Elizabeth jumped on to the bed, and Darth Vader followed. He lunged towards her, chicken ready for the kill, but she jumped out of the way just in time. However, her chicken fell out of her hands from the sudden movement and landed on the floor a couple of feet away. She jumped off the bed and ran to get her weapon.

Darth Vader quickly followed, performing a series of Matrix worthy twirls in the air, and landed behind Elizabeth, catching her off guard, and cut her hand off. "You dolt! That was my chicken hand!" she yelled. She stepped back, and ended up falling out the nearby open window. Luckily, she had just gone to see Catwoman the day before, and with Halle Berry cat reflexes, managed to hold on to the sill with her good hand.

Darth Vader walked over to the window and looked down at her. "There is no escape. You can either die or join me. I'll complete your training. With our combined powers, we can rule the galaxy."

"I'll never join you!" she yelled out defiantly.

"If only you knew the power of the dark side. You were never told what happened to your father."

"I was told that you killed him!"

"No, Elizabeth. I am your father."

Elizabeth looked up at the cloaked man in shock. "No, it's not true!"

"You know that it's the truth." He put his chicken back in to the folds of his cloak and offered her a hand. "Join me, and we will rule as father and daughter!"

Elizabeth was about to respond, but was cut off by an accented voice yelling from the doorway. "What is going on here?" Elizabeth could hear footsteps, and then saw an extremely ripped man appear behind Darth Vader. "Oh, hello father," she greeted him.

"Vader, I thought I told you to stay in your kennel."

Darth Vader grumbled and walked out of the room mumbling curses under his breath. Elizabeth's father turned to his daughter and lifted her easily back in to the room. She walked over to her severed hand and placed it back on her arm. "Good as new," she said while flexing her fingers. She turned and gave her dad a smile, who was in fact, Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The Govenator.

"STOP!" a voice yelled, making the teenager typing at her computer jump up in alarm. She turned around a saw a short man in a medieval messenger's uniform and a scroll in his hand standing in the middle of her room.

"What are you doing in here? Get out of my room!" She started to panic. "Rapist! Rapist!" she yelled, but no one came to help. If only she knew that more people come if one screams 'Fire!' instead. People are always out to save their own skins. Or watch things burn. Pyros.

The man rubbed his ear gingerly before explaining, "I'm not a rapist. I am, in fact, the official Rule Bearer. My duties are to ensure that plagiarism, incorrect ratings, 'you' stories, etcetera, etcetera, do not appear on the boards. Now," he started while unrolling his scroll. Damn that thing was long.

He cleared his throat. "You are in violation of Rule 136, stated in section 39, subsection Q, third paragraph, line 14," he told the authoress with a smug grin.

The young woman looked quizzically at him before screaming, "Mackenzie!"

Soon, a young girl around eleven in age ran in to the room, staring oddly at her sister and the unknown man.

"Mo Mo," the authoress addressed her sibling, "please give this man the eyebrow." Mackenzie raised the inquisitive eyebrow at her sister before rolling her eyes and turning to show the man the same expression. For you see, the teenage girl could not form said expression, much to her dismay. "That is all," she said, dismissing her sister with a wave of her hand.

"I can see you don't understand," the Rule Bearer said while rolling the scroll back up. "Rule 136 states that no author is allowed to use nonfictional characters in his or her story. The penalty is deletion of the story in question, and the author's account is frozen for a short period of time."

"That sucks," the teen huffed, slouching down in her seat. "Hey, this is my story, so I can just write you out!" she declared gleefully.

"Now, wait just a second there!" the man cried, slightly paling and sweating a little. He reached his finger up and inched it closer and closer to his nose...

"I demand that you stop that at once!" the man yelled, horror plastered on his face because of the fact his arm was moving against his control and his finger was about to perform a highly embarrassing act in front of a bunch of readers. "This will get you no where," he tried to reason. "I don't make the rules; I just deliver them."

The authoress knew he was right and stopped her cruel, but highly entertaining, control. "You just have to change Arnold's name, that's all. The rules don't say that you can't have a character based off of him."

The girl contemplated this, before finally agreeing to his terms. Two deleted stories would not look good on her résumé. "Fine," she replied. "Now, get out before I make you wear a hula skirt and dance to 'Copacabana'." The thought frightened the man, and he quickly disappeared.

Now faced with a dilemma, the girl faced her computer again and urged the creative juices to flow so she could get on with her story. She finally came up with the governor's new name:

Ahnold Shortsinhanger.

That'll do. So, where were we? Oh yeah, our beloved Ahnold had just saved his daughter from the evil Darth Vader.

"Look at this mess." He walked around the room and surveyed the damage. "Elizabeth, I thought I told you not to fight in the house anymore."

"I'm sorry father," she replied, flashing him a big pair of puppy dog eyes. "What are you doing in here anyway?"

"I bought you something." He called in a man with a black suit on and an earpiece in his ear. The man gave Ahnold a box, all the while darting glances around the room and running his finger over a lump in his jacket that looked suspiciously like a gun.

It was really a teddy bear.

Elizabeth opened the box and gasped at the dress inside. "Oh father, you shouldn't have!" She pulled out the dress, and squealed in delight when she saw that it was actually the right size for her. "But what's this?" She pulled something black out of the box, and groaned when she saw what it was.

"Father, do I really need a Kevlar vest?"

"It is for your own protection," the governor replied. His attention was diverted when the secret service guy taped him on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Ahnold nodded and turned back to Elizabeth. "I'll be back." And with that, he left the room.

Downstairs, another secret service agent was patting down a man around Elizabeth's age. "He's clean," he yelled to his partner, and the man turned around to face the stairs. Several girls fainted when they finally got to see him. Paramedics rushed on to the scene and carried the girls away on stretchers. The man didn't seem to notice this at all and started humming "I've Been Working on the Railroad".

"Ah, Mister Turner, I'm guessing you have my sword?" Will stopped his humming and looked up to see Ahnold walking down the stairs towards him.

Will gave the Governor a funny look. "Sword? I thought you ordered a pair of flaming batons." He bent down and picked up said objects. "If I may?" he asked Ahnold. The governor nodded, and Will lit the ends with a lighter offered to him by one of the secret service guys. Will then started twirling the batons over his head and to the side so they looked like rings of fire. The onlookers stared in awe at the twirling flames. Will threw them up in the air and caught them in his hands, emitting a round of 'ooh's and 'ahh's from his audience. Once the show was finished, the men clapped enthusiastically, one of them shouting for an encore.

Will extinguished the flames and presented the batons to Ahnold, who took them from Will and examined them before placing them in a silver briefcase at his feet. "They'll do," he told him as he closed and picked up the briefcase.

"Father," a voice called from the stairs. All the heads looked up and saw Elizabeth walking down the staircase. "What do you think of the dress?" she asked when she reached the landing. She spun in a circle to show it off.

A throat clearing got her attention, since she had a slight A.D.D. problem, and she turned around to see Will standing there looking at her. "Good morning, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked the tall blacksmith up and down before saying, "Am I supposed to know you?"

Will sighed in defeat and replied, "Remember when you were crossing from England and Captain Norrington saved me from drowning?" Elizabeth still didn't know what he was talking about. "I came up with a box of animal crackers."

A light bulb turned on over her head, but quickly burnt out. A janitor came in and unscrewed it, putting a new one in its place. "I remember now!" she exclaimed joyously. "But, I thought it was a dream...."

All the people in the room tilted their head and looked off at some faraway point, contemplating what they just heard. Will even stroked his chin. The silence was interrupted by a beeping sound. "Well, it's time we go," Ahnold said, checking his watch. "Come on Elizabeth."

The two of them walked out of the house, one of the secret service people whispering, "The Eagle has taken off. I repeat: the Eagle has taken off."

Ahnold pulled out a pair of sunglasses from inside his jacket and put them on before stepping in to the carriage before them. Elizabeth reached for hers, but found that she left them in her other purse. Shrugging, she decided to go with the parasol instead. She walked out the door, but turned back around to face Will. "Good day..."

"Will," he supplied.

"Right. Good day Will." And then she disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Will looked out after the carriage, his eyes getting all teary. He wiped them off and said, "Stupid allergies." He then stalked off to find himself some Claritin.

Okay, so if there were any mistakes in the whole law breaking exchange in there, I'm sorry, but I had to write that part in after my beta had read through this because I was reminded after that having real people in a fic is against policy, which I totally knew and was going to make fun of anyway, but here is as good of a time as later I suppose. By the way, thanks to my girl Chelles for beta-ing! You're the best!

Thank you to all my reviewers for reviewing the last chapter! I really appreciated it and would thank all of you personally, but it's against the fanfiction rules, and I've already had a story deleted because of breaking said rules, so I'm staying on the safe side. Anyway, review, and I promise I'll try harder to get the next chapter out sooner!

And if anyone asks, Mackenzie is not a real person, and the authoress has no given name, so no one go on about self insertion. If it was, in fact, a self insertion, then it would have been written in first person instead of third, and she would've had my name. So ha! I'm staying on the safe side of the law over here.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean, The Matrix, Catwoman, Star Wars, Claritin, and any other things I might've added in there that I'm forgetting about now. But I don't own them either.