The Constant Variables of Sue
"A Mary Sue is defined as perfect with no flaws.." This is bullshit.
"..no personality traits, no parents. they always have tragic or mysterious pasts..." False!
"...and they always have 2 or 6 love interests at their feet begging for their affection.." I refuse such lies!
"...Now, how will you face your reputation, Ms. Mary Su-"
SLAP!
"SHUT YOUR TRAP!"
"..." The man sat perfectly still with a red hand mark on the left side of his face. Mary simply stood up from her wooden chair before settling down a few seconds later.
"Now, now Ms. Mary Sue, we all know that your reputation has been dragged down by the Mary Sue trope for almost a decade in to the present, so please calm down. It's not like you're the stereotype of a Mary Sue and the reason it exists." He explained with a sad smile.
Mary pouted as she crossed her arms. "I know, I know, Paul. I just get rather irritated by hearing that description as if I'm a target of harassment, kids these days think I'm a robot with shit AI disguised as a human that's trying to do world domination with that damned trope or something."
"..well anyhow," He looked down at his leather watch and up back at Mary. "Time is of the essence, you can leave the office now Ms. Mary Sue, I have another meeting with your dear friend Mr. Steward."
She simply huffed and turned away, opening the door to the office and slamming it closed once she left.
"Mm. I always get the rude and quick tempered ones don't I?" Paul questioned himself calmly. He stood up from his office chair and began organizing his ruined office once more for the 16th time.
Someone began knocking on the door quite slowly.
"Ah, come in Mr. Steward. No need to be shy." The door creaked open slowly as someone entered, a constantly stuttering brown haired man in a green tracksuit.
"Y-Y-You're P-Paul r-righ-right?" The stuttering man answered.
"Why yes I am." Paul simply patted the dust from his window blinds as he returned to sitting on his office chair. "Now take a seat and let's talk about your issues Mr. Steward."
"A-alright th-then." Steward followed and sat down on the wooden chair where Mary sat down before, only for it to fall apart suddenly. "ACK!"
"Oh my. Are you alright Mr. Steward? That's the 4th time that happened this month because of Ms. Mary Sue."
"O-o-oh I'm f-fine e-er Pa-Paul..b-but who's M-Mary S-sue? Is-Isn't th-that a t-t-t-rope?" Steward asked Paul, who was simply picking up the remains of what used to be a wooden chair with his hands.
"Ah. Ms. Mary Sue is the woman who slammed the door before you arrived, She's had a couple of anger issues cropping up because she was still being associated with that trope and because of her reputation being dragged down the drain, like a certain pompadour hair style young man.." Paul trailed off on his words as he threw the remains of the chair into his trash bin.
"I s-see.." Steward slowly said.
"Well, I'll go call McRon to send me another chair. Mr. Steward you can look around my office if you want." Paul said as he pulled out a wooden wand and used it to poke a rather small hole in the wall next to the door.
"O-oka-"
The door suddenly slammed open, there stood a short man with dyed purple hair dressed in a black tracksuit. They were carrying a green duffle bag on their back with a crazed look in their eyes.
"I'M FUCKING HERE NOW BITCH! " The crazed man dashed over to where Paul stood and put his hands on Paul's shoulders. He began shaking him like a bull trying to shake off it's rider that probably had 2 types of AIDS. "NOW WHAT'S THE RECORD THIS TIME BABY?!"
"I-I-It's 2-2.0-03 S-Seconds McRon." Paul looked like he was ready to make the man in front of him kneel down in front and make them puke 10 types of STD and to proceed to do extreme CBT to the man until they died.
"Aw fuck! I haven't beaten my last record! This is ass!" The man groaned and their enthusiastic or crazed mood disappeared as a depressing aura surrounded them.
They turned around away from Paul with a depressing face and proceeded to pull out an RPG loaded with small logs inside of it, out of the duffle bag.
...
Steward's entire body paled like a new shade of white of a several times exorcised ghost vampire that didn't want to stop existing in the 21st Century. He panicked. "P-P-paul is t-this alr-alright?! He-He's p-u-pulled out a-an R-RPG!" He pointed at McRon.
"Oh. That's just the RPG Builder from IKEA, McRon found it useful awhile ago when we visited IKEA." Paul crossed his arms as he watched McRon pull the RPG's trigger, much to the horror of Steward. "No wonder he believed that IKEA was infinite with infinite shelves and the sort." Some of which probably included some slenderman rip-offs.
An absolutely blinding light of a probable ten thousand volts embraced the whole office when McRon pulled the RPG's trigger.
"Oh my-"
AN: Alo dear readers. I've made this first chapter or more-so a one-shot for now.
It's an interesting Idea I've thought of mostly because I had a lingering concept around my head ready to be smashed into my brain.
Anyways, I appreciate if any criticism is given about this chapter, and if the criticism is about my other stories, I'd appreciate them a bit more. Although I'm not asking for reviews, I'm just mentioning that'd I'd appreciate it. Anyways.
See you dear readers.