Thank you to everyone who reviewed Facing Truths! And an extra-special thank you to the extra-special (with a capital 'Q') Laura! Hello, Laura. How's the Turtle? (For everyone who does not know Laura, she is my mildly schizophrenic casual acquaintance, and her boyfriend is a Turtle with a phobia of oversized, vibrant pink volleyballs. And I swear it's all true! Just thought I should warn everyone about her; she is almost completely insane.)
This is just an idea that popped into my head one day. It is only loosely connected to The Bartimaeus Trilogy. Please don't give up upon reading the first bit. It's a parody! I promise that it gets better!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Bartimaeus Trilogy, or Harry Potter. All due respect to Jonathan Stroud, J. K. Rowling, and their publishers. And I don't own "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?". I just stole the title.
The Fic
W/o pausin Maxellirandine exprtly summuned the jini and told it 2 do her will "do my will!11!1"she sed i/a deep, cummanding voice. "Do a spell that takes me 2 were nthaneil is being held prisner!" tears studid Maxellirandine's butiflu blue-green-purpel-gray-gold eys as she thot of her 1 true love nethenel. he wuz soooo hott!1! "por noble, beutifl, amazin, pwerfl Maxellirandine has lost her 1true love" sed the jini "of corse i wil hepl u. jest concntrte v. hard, nd u will be transportd in2 teh land wher nathanial is being hld prisiner! it wud hurt other ppl more, but u r sooo pwerfl that it won't hurt at all!11!" "okay!" sed Maxellirandine blinkin her blue-green-purpel-gray-gold eyses nd tossin her long curly blond hair. "take me ther!" then the wind blue, an Maxellirandine wuz taken to the place. it was reeeeal ugly! Maxellirandine wrinkld her small delicate perfect nose.
The Author
Maxine clapped her hands and positively squealed with delight. Her fic was eternally the coolest! Everyone would love it! She twisted her thin brown hair around her finger for a moment, then turned back to the computer screen.
The Fic
suddnly the ground dispeard and Maxellirandine started 2fall thru the air her athletic hands tried to grab the cliff but it was 2 sliperi and she fell down in2-
The Author
"Maxine! Dinner!"
"Coming!" Maxine saved her work and bounded out of the room.
The Sue
Max sighed in annoyance. Her story was being written by an idiot! And, above all, the idiot had chosen now to stop writing! She rolled her eyes skyward. Technically, as she was suspended upside down in midair, she rolled her eyes floorward. Blood was rushing to her head, and she was beginning to feel dizzy. To make matters worse, her ridiculous hair was covering her face and falling into her mouth, and she couldn't even move an arm to brush it away. Oh, well, she decided. There's nothing that I can do now but wait.
Not two seconds after thinking this, Max watched a vast hole materialize in the air above her. Or was it below her? She had completely lost whatever little sense of direction she might have possessed a moment ago. Then, to her immense relief, she began to fall towards the newly created mass of swirling eddies. Or was she defying all gravitational laws and floating towards the newly created mass of swirling eddies? She really didn't care; she would have welcomed any movement at this point. An instant later, however, Max regretted thinking this; as she was drawn into the hole, she began to spin uncontrollably. Overwhelmed by sudden nausea, Max felt a flare of anger at her author. What the hell was this? No doubt a trap set by one of her formidable enemies, designed to delay the valiant rescue of whoever the hell she was bravely rushing to the aid of, despite having to overcome countless incredible obstacles-
Max's sarcastic thoughts were interrupted without warning as she reached the bottom of the hole. Violent pain shot through her body as she landed on the mattress and shakily got to her... wait, backtrack! Mattress? Had her author finally gone completely insane? Tentatively, she waved her arm in front of her face. No, if this had been part of the story, she wouldn't be able to move on her own. Everything she did in the story was beyond her control. Bewildered, Max raised a head to take a look at her surroundings.
She realized in disgust that she was sitting on a frilly, pink bed, in a lacy, pink room. Max started as she caught sight of her reflection in a full-length mirror opposite the bed. She was dressed in a long, pink night gown, complete with an ugly lace night cap and fuzzy, pink slippers. Max shuddered; she despised the colour pink with every fibre of her being.
She whipped off the hat and kicked the slippers off of her feet, then wandered to a pink closet in hope of finding less hideous clothes. After several moments' fruitless search, she resigned to the horrible truth: everything in the closet was pink! In frustration, she decided on a light pink hoodie, and magenta cords. She shuddered at her appearance, and searched in vain for an elastic to hold back her hideous hair.
She was moving the abundant make-up on the pink vanity, when she uncovered a photograph in an ornate silver frame. The young man in the photograph had long, greasy black hair, and was dressed in a ridiculously tight suit. Black letters across the bottom of the frame spelled out 'Nathaniel'. She vaguely remembered seeing him in the beginning of the story. Shrugging, she replaced the picture and continued her search for an elastic.
Eventually, she gave up, and contemplated the large, white door that she presumed led out of this revolting room. She hoped that there was no-one on the other side to see her like this; being forced to dress in pink had somewhat wounded Max's pride. She drew a long breath, and opened it tentatively.
What she saw nearly caused Max to collapse. She was standing in a massive hallway with white carpeting and pink, flowery wallpaper. Doors, all identical to the one she had just used, lined the walls for as far as she could see in either direction. Many girls strolled aimlessly down the hallway, entering and exiting various doors at their leisure. All of them, like Max, had delicate features, long, thick hair of varying shades, and were dressed in pink. Max recognized many of the garments they were wearing to be identical to ones she had seen in the closet. My closet, she thought, with a sinking sense of realization. The room is my room!
For a moment, she stood in shock, ankles wobbling in the ridiculously thick carpet. Suddenly, Max was startled back into reality as a girl with black hair and a jagged scar on her forehead rushed up to her, brandishing a photo of a pale boy with blond hair.
"This is my Draco! Isn't he gorgeous? Who's yours?"
"My what?"
The other girl rolled her bright green eyes, and reached into the pocket of Max's sweater, pulling out another photo of 'Nathaniel'. "Hmm," she said, contemplating the photo. "He's cute."
"I'm glad you think so. You can keep that picture," stated Max, simply. She turned away, and addressed another girl. "Excuse me? Where... where are we?" The girl she had spoken to had long, silver hair, and her stunning features were arranged into an expression of confusion. She was dressed in a ghastly pink flowing gown. Her purple eyes took in Max's distraught state, then lingered on her choice of clothes. She suddenly seemed to comprehend something.
"Oh! This your first time, isn't it?" Her voice was surprisingly high and girlish. She looked expectantly at Max, who managed a nod. First time at what? Max wondered. But before she could ask this, the other girl continued, her voice fast becoming irritating. "This is where we go, while our stories are not being written." As if this were explanation enough, she continued on her aimless way. Max darted after her in confusion.
"I'm sorry, but who are... we?" The other girl heaved an exasperated sigh.
"Well... What's your name?"
"Max."
"Maxellirandine - what a lovely name! Mine's Bethany."
"Max. Not Maxellirandine." But Bethany took no notice of this interjection.
"Well, Maxellirandine, we are clichés. We are all the Mary Sues that have ever been written. While our stories are being composed, we are there. In the meantime, we are here. After our stories are finished, we return here. Forever."
"But - but I'm not a Mary Sue! At least, I don't want to be."
Bethany eyed her wistfully. "I was like you, once. We all were." With these condemning words, Bethany turned slowly, and wandered away. Max was too stunned to go after her. The girl's words kept replaying themselves in her head. After our stories are finished, we return here. Forever. Forever. Forever...
The Author
Maxine strolled over to her computer, started her word program, and contemplated her story. She grinned; it was almost finished.
A/N: I hope that it was as much fun to read as it was to write! Review, please.
