Glad to know the AUness of my fic has been accepted. And dontcha just love the new girl? I know I sure do. Because, you know, she's me. And who could not love me?

Okay, so I Googled my penname and came across this rather intriguing tidbit…

A dog named Muffin injured itself by trying to get Safeway (a British supermarkety-gas stationy thingy place) leaflets from his door. His owner, Gordon Musselwhite, is suing Safeway.

Hmm.

A lot of you said, "Huh, you're a redhead? I more pictured you as a blonde." What does that mean? Why do I seem blonde? Blonde can have some negative connotations. Should I be offended? –cocks eyebrow inquisitively- And also, have you thought about why blonde is the only hair color with a connotation? Brunettes, redheads, black-haired people- no meanings. But blonde is universal known as stupid. Now, why is this?

Also, many people said they didn't get the title. Well, duh. It hasn't come up yet. It's in the third (last) chapter. If you got it, that would be a little creepy, Miss Claire Voyant.

And all the people who yelled at me about the Trory thing… sorry, I just can't help myself sometimes. I laughed so hysterically at all you people. Izzpuppy reviews as she reads, and she actually went on a rant about why the hell was I writing a Trory, and then she was like, "Oh. … You're very cruel." I loved it. A bunch of you told me you fell out of your chairs, so thank you for that mental image.

Disclaimer: I don't own, I RENT. Luke, Lorelai, Rory, etc. equals not mine. But Guinevere/Hanna/nameless-person is all mine. MINE, I tell you! Amy, eat your heart out.

Out come the shouts…

Laura of the Lucious Loins: A Hydrangea bush? I tell you, you get full marks for obscure wildlife references… and I don't give full marks out of that category easily, it's my toughie. You need to make that website. Am I an Amy or a Lorelai? Hard to tell, since they're kind of the same person. Ish. But not really. Woah, the mind is blown. Who am I? An anvil portal… I have one of those! … No, really. I hate how Bot Boy takes away excessive typingness if you go over 2. It's incredibly obnoxious. Huh, I was about to get water, but I was sad because it was all gone, but then I realized I had another full glass sitting right there. I'm weird like that, having two glasses of water I alternate drinking from. Greatest quote ever- "Why yes, I have rubbed my butt all over Amy Sherman-Palladino's lap, and she LIKED it." It needs a plaque, or a name (how we honor everything). Phillis. There. A beautiful name for a beautiful quote. Delicate sobbing, nice oxymoron. What did you call me? Oh, just shut up and pass the nuts.

Lassie: Oh, you. My heart sure is pounding. I love our little conversation you put in the review. And by the way, missy, I'm, not MuffinIsInjured. It's just…. Muffin Is Injured. In all its simplistic, confusing glory. I have a humor of sense? Much better than a sense of humor. I can write myself well? Let's hope so. There might be a problem if I could write Luke and not myself. Throwing my fishsticks to the dogs… nice cliché. Not only are you the queen of random metaphors, you are apparently the queen of offbeat clichés. Is this shoutout long enough? Oh my geez, Lassie. You make me… what's that word? That's right… GIGGLE. Yes. Giggle.

Izz to the puppy: Here, you're a bear. Happy, you happy? I'm with you on the animal thing… "In the doghouse, are you chicken, you dog, multiplying like rabbits, mad cow…" Uh, there's no doubt more, but I can't think of them, and I don't want to spend the next 20 minutes thinking about it when I could be writing your shoutout. That flavor thing was VERY dirty, but since you asked, I'm a blueberry muffin. And on whimsical days, I may have some chocolate chips along with the berries. Did you know that raspberry muffins are so good? Yeah, it's like a discovery. I think it was penne, but I don't remember. It could have been those swirly guys (fusili) or the bow tie babies. I love drawing pasta. I love Tooky. Allo, Tookster! "I'm sorry, do I know you? My name is Too-ky. Tooky." Yes, Tooky, we've met numerous times. Oh, you. YOU. You are funny. Write a fan fic, dammit! I love how, before reviewing, you go on a huge shpiel about your summer and all around life. That is the genius that is Izzpuppy. Your cat sure likes fan belts. I cannot frickin BELIEVE you got the pajamas. Don't talk to me. Seriously.

Lorimar Jayne: Why were you at a hospital? Are you a 90 year old woman who slipped on her snowy (yes, snowy in October) doorstep with no one but her 14 cats to hear her faint cries of distress? Luckily, Floofles, the smartest of the gang, went next door and meowed obnoxiously until the neighbors came over. Good one, that Floofles. What a keeper. Here comes the gluey stuff! Peanut brittle… oh, damn, me and my big mouth… come back! You haven't even read the fic yet! I'm not dangerous, I swear. I barely even know what peanu… what the PB word is.

Krys33: Although I do love hearing The Amusing Escapades of Krys, the Highlighters, and the Post-its, has it ever occurred to you to get the review box up before reading and then writing in that as you go? Just thinking out loud here. Yes, I do talk like that, and it irritates the hell out of the people I know. I ranted about the oldness and the burning of paper to my class today, and they all had nothing to say, except the normal, "Oh, Hanna," that comes with every word that comes out of my mouth. Gah.

ocdwithlhg: You're tots cool, babe! Oh yes, I have nailed all the characters. Lorelai was a virgin. Sookie was a little too experimental for my taste. Luke was just plain RAWR. The best, however, was hands-down Kirk. I've never met anyone from the internet, as I think I am too young to be going against the 'Internet people BAD, they are ALL fat ugly rapists' thing burned into my brain (although I sincerely doubt any of you are rapists), but I do email/IM a bunch. Yes, no one can live up to the amazing nameless fan girl/me, but we can all have aspirations, no?

Alexiamanda: I'm seriously throwing myself a party. You've inspired me, woman. You're so fine, you blow my mind. I started cracking up at your friend's bad jokes. Seriously, that is GREAT. "Got any tape?" I am so easily amused it's not even funny. Fitted sheets? Hilarious. How can you hate coffee? Uh, it smells so good, I love it. Plus I got Luke's coffee, because I visited Stars Hollow last chapter. Am I privileged or WHAT? I love the word abound.

Baby Girl Geller-Green: My mom always comes into my room to make me take pictures of her. Duh, all moms do that. It's part of the midlife crisis and the menopause. You found a turkey muscle website? Do I ever love you. Your ranting status is most definitely increasing, woman! I'm having a positive effect on you.

Leondra: Yes, I am like the fan. She is me. Makes her even cooler, if possible, no? Evil genius- great. They're the ones that end up taking over the world, you know. And yes, Michelle IS annoying. I used that phone message on my cell, and it completely backfired. People were like, "Huh? You're Jenny, what?" And then they kept calling me back trying to figure out what the other number I had said (867-5309) was so they could call it. –sigh- I am swimming in a sea of inferior intellect.

beautifulbutterfly: I know a girl whose dad works at the WB and he takes her to the parties and stuff, and she's met Lauren, Scott, and Alexis. She's like, "Scott is best friends with my dad, he's so nice. And Alexis is really shy." And she has Lauren's autograph. I almost threw her out of a moving car. Here's your shoutout, but you're gonna have to rant more to get a bigger one. Dance, monkey girl, dance!

hermione0624: Wrong, silly. Gallbladder is a one-shot, which I did state very clearly numerous times. I'm no hypocrite! I like how you went back and rereviewed. Please don't become a crazy killer who goes 'Chop chop chop!' Don't use an ax to chop either.

Ronata: YOU'RE downright likeable.

FanOfLOST: You are very, very cool, missy. I love your profile. That Robert Lennon thing was HILARIOUS.

waitingtuesday: Oh, he's perpetually caffeinated. He wears green tights also.

lukelorelai-en: -salutes back-

My fishstick babies- thank you, thank you, thank you. Here, take a fishstick. They're cold, since you gave them to me a few days ago… oh well. Fishsticks are fishsticks. "Oh really? I though the fishsticks were a hat."

Hedge Clippers are the Path to Love

Chapter Two: Don't Diss Jesus

...and move on to Lorelai…
Lorelai's eyebrows raised as the unfamiliar girl came up to her and sat at her table. "Do I know you?"

"I think you're blind," she said by way of greeting.

"Close, but no. I'm actually Lorelai. Okay, my turn. I think you're… Guinevere."

"Uh, no. And how is Lorelai close to blind?"

"Well, they're both English."

"Ah. Well, in that case, you were right too."

Lorelai took a sip of her coffee, nodding. "Mmm. So, why am I blind? Because my optometrist seems to disagree with you."

The girl sighed and leaned in, looking towards the counter. "Look over there. Now what do you see?"

Lorelai turned and looked for a few long moments, squinting her eyes as if she was searching for something. "Luke," she said bluntly after a while.

The girl shook her head and leaned back. "Yep, blind."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is that not Luke? Someone must be doing a pret-ty good impression of him then. Now that you mention, if I squint, it kinds of looks like Mrs. Lanahan."

The girl sighed. "You are such a card."

"Actually, I'm the entire deck," fired back Lorelai smugly.

"Okay, different approach." The girl drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. "What I am about to tell you maybe be something you not want to hear- in fact, I know it is. But nevertheless, it is something you should and need to hear."

Lorelai giggled. "It's like one of those warnings on a TV show telling people that the following program they are about to see has some violence and scenes of sex, and parental guidance is suggested."

"Yes, that's exactly it. Go get a parent, because I don't want you to hear the following sex scene alone."

"I think I can handle it. I am, after all, 25."

The girl nodded with an agreeing frown. "Okay. Have you ever even remotely considered the possibility that Luke has feelings for you?"

Lorelai lifted a shocked eyebrow. "Kid, I don't even know you."

"Exactly, all the better. It's easier to tell strangers stuff, is it not? Or people you know won't judge you. That's why I talk to my elevator doors."

"Do you even know Luke?"

"Oh, yeah. We just had a rousing conversation. We're best pals now. He actually gave me one of those bracelets? His says friends, mine says forever."

"If you don't know either of us, then why are you interfering with this?"

"Well, that's the thing." The girl took a couple deep breaths, as if to steady herself. "I know I should've told you earlier- it must have been so hard for you, and your poor mother…"

"What?"

"I'm your father," she blurted out.

Lorelai nodded. "I've always wondered why Richard and I had so little in common."

"Hmph," the girl pouted, leaning back in her chair sulkily. "You're much less gullible than Luke."

"I've always prided myself on that."

"So?" prompted the girl, propping her elbows up on the table. "Don't try and tell me you've never thought about Luke like that. Because I already know. Can someone say Leopold and Loeb?"

"What?" said Lorelai, furrowing her eyebrows at the sly mention to her dream.

"I mean- you know. It's just like the life story of Leopold and Loeb," the girl stuttered, trying to cover up her slip.

"Luke and I are not gay lovers who murdered some random boy for fun and ended up only going to prison and not getting the death penalty due to their incredibly verbally-gifted lawyer. But if we have to be, can I be Leopold? He was less needy, and plus, he didn't die in a razor fight."

"Of course. But you also happen to be avoiding my question."

"What question?" stalled Lorelai.

"Do you think about you and Luke at all?"

"Of course I think about Luke and me. I think, 'Hey, there's Luke. He should give some coffee to me.' See how that works?"

"I'll move past the admission, which I know would be inevitable. Why don't you do anything about it?"

"About what?"

"About Luke."

"Why don't I do anything about Luke? Oh, believe me, honey, I've tried. But he simply will not put his flannel in the garbage disposal! I even tried to steal a shirt and put it through my paper shredder, but that didn't come out quite as well as planned. I had to rip my paper by hand for a month. Then I stuffed the rest of the shirt in the disposal in my sink, which obviously broke it, so I had to get him to come over and fix it, and when he saw what I did he was yelling and he said that it was his favorite shirt, which, as we all know, is impossible, as all his shirts look the same. The man just won't listen to reasoning."

The girl nodded slowly. "Wow. More fun hearing those rants in person."

Just then, the door jingled open and Rory came bouncing in with the winter air, unwrapping her scarf as she walked. "Sorry I'm late."

"Thank goodness you're here, Rabid Dog Tied to a Chain Boy!"

Her back still to the diner, Rory continued. "Have you been out there, it is freezing. Taylor was completely out of Kleenex, which is impossible in the winter season because everyone wants Kleenex, and he was being really condescending about it, and I was grumpy and tired and I needed Kleenex, so I just broke down and I said- 'Taylor, you can take your nonexistent Kleenex and put them-'" She turned from untangling her scarf around her hair and caught sight of the girl. "Did you get another daughter while I was in the market?"

"Yes, honey, this is Guinevere," said Lorelai sweetly, thanking God for the intervention.

Rory eyed her suspiciously but sat down anyway. "Okay then."

"So I gathered from your little rant there that you didn't get your Kleenex?"

Rory sighed. "No. My nose is rubbed raw from using kitchen towels." She sniffed. "I'm going to go in the back and see if Luke has any." She stood, threw the calm table intruder one more awkward glance, and disappeared around the back.

"Why doesn't she just use toilet paper?" asked the girl.

Lorelai turned to her. "Did Miss Patty send you?"

"What?"

"To spy on me, to find out about Luke and me. Oh, man, that must be it! That should've been my first guess! I can't believe this. Can't Patty just accept the fact that…"

"Patty didn't send me," said the girl, shrugging. "Can't a girl ask a question?"

"Yes, a girl can ask a question. However, the receiver of the question does not necessarily have to answer the question. In this case, I veto the answering of the question and choose to remain silent."

"Fair enough," she sighed. "And, just in case you were wondering, Luke's in love with you." She stood up. "Well, I think my work here is done. Gotta get back, you know, things to see, people to do. It's been a pleasure chatting with you. Oh, wait." She pulled a wrinkled packet of Kleenex from her purse. "Give this to Rory."

"Wha- Guinevere, will you come back here?" She picked up the Kleenex. "Are you Mary Poppins? And how did you know my daughter's name? What about Luke?"

The girl paused at the door. "No, no, and insert creepy smile. And my name's not Guinevere. And he's in love with you. And bye."

The door jingled and Lorelai leaned back into her chair, shocked.

Rory sniffled as she leaned over the counter. "Hey, Luke."

"Hey. Still got that cold?"

She sighed. "Not only do I have to suffer through the torturous symptoms of a cold, I have the pleasure of my congested voice letting everyone know about it. Lovely." She advanced behind the counter. "Do you have any tissues? Doose's is out."

"You're kidding. He's gonna have to deal with a lot of angry sneezing people. I wonder what Hitler would say about such lack of organization. He'll make Taylor give up his mustache."

Rory shook her head. "I know, he'll be crushed. At least he still has his cardigan." She slipped around the corner and into the kitchen, searching for the tissues. "Hey, Luke, do you know who that girl is out there, sitting with Mom?"

Luke turned and saw the annoying girl sitting with Lorelai. "She's still here? Geez, can you believe the nerve of that kid?"

Rory shook her head. "Nope, that's one pretty unbelievable nerve she has there. Where's Ripleys? Hmm… Believe it or Not: Special Nerve Edition. I see soaring ratings."

Luke growled and ranted under his breath. "I can't believe her, talking to Lorelai like that. Who does she think she is? Stupid teenagers. They just waltz in and screw up your perfectly good day with their inside information and their logic and their stupid purse. Who names a purse after a Wizard of Oz character? I don't even wanna know what she's telling Lorelai. She's probably saying I just confessed my undying love for her, and Lorelai will never come back in here again. Dumb kid, she should go back to Land of the Gifted Vocabularians or wherever the hell she came from."

Rory sneezed into the tissue. "My purse's name is Glinda."

"Well, you're twenty. You're not a teenager, you're excused," snapped Luke, slamming the rag down onto counter and scrubbing it viciously.

"You know, Luke, one day you're going to rub right through that thing," Rory observed, almost in awe of Luke's rapid turn in mood. "What did that girl do?"

"Nothing, she just… nothing, she had no basis to… drink coffee when she's not even… almonds in her handbag, and… Dr. Phil with her self-esteem talk and… Jesus died for our sins…" He slammed the rag down, his brain whirling rapidly. 'Ceaser, I'm taking five."

Sorry this was a tad on the short side, but I make up for the past chapters for the next one... the finale, the big kahuna. Remember that pesky little voice nagging you to review. The voice is always right. The voice is me. Or "Guinevere." Take your pick.