Hey there! A lot of people are asking if I'm going to discontinue my fanfiction stories. And the answer? NO FREAKING CHANCE. I just wanted to write something kind of... real for once. So please check out my story on fictionpress!

Zach: I repeat, I CAN'T FOLLOW HER! -whoops-
Abby: I repeat, SHUT UP.
Zach: I'm sorry... -shifty eyes-
Abby: You know you're gonna miss me.
Zach: Yeah, you're right. Just a little.
Abby: Ahh, well you do live with me and coexist inside my fanfiction account. Things even out.
Zach: Please, let me forget. Read, guys! (And girls!)

Previously on 50 Ways to Annoy Iggy: THE STORY

I heard a muffled, "Guys! What?", and a bang on the door. "Seriously? Really, you always pick on the blind guy."

Really, he was right.

But we blame the7thflockmember.

Iggy POV

It had been... I'm guessing about two hours since my "family" locked me inside this darn closet. Really, it was probably only like, 45 minutes. I started twiddling my thumbs. Well, hey! If people do it when they're bored, there's got to be some kind of reason behind it. And I mean, seriously, there are a lot worse things I could be doing when I'm locked in a closet alone... No, not like that, you sicko! I meant I could be finding things to use with a bomb! Jeez, teenagers these days.

I started tapping my foot absentmindedly and proceeded to hum quietly to myself.

"Slide to left. Slide to the right. Take it back now, y'all." I happily bobbed my head to the random song that popped into my head and suddenly, out of boredom, have no fear, I started to do the Cha Cha Slide. When you have nothing better to do, you might as well entertain yourself.

By the time I was finished going through the clapping of my hands, I was bored with that song. No offense, Mr. C the Slide Man.

"If it hadn't been for Cotton Eyed Joe, I'd been married a long time ago. Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton Eyed Joe?" Those silly dance moves are actually really fun. But you didn't hear that from me, got it? It then occured to me how insane I was becoming. My family was driving me clinically insane. I was singing to Rednex! They couldn't even spell out the full words Red Necks! For goodness sakes, there was certainly something wrong with my bird brain... And now it sounds like I just insulted myself.

A new song popped into my head and I grinned.

Angel POV

Suddenly, I started cracking up. Everyone stared at me like I was a lunatic, but I continued to laugh. Iggy had been attempting to entertain himself... by twiddling his thumbs, doing the Cha Cha Slide and questioning Cotton Eyed Joe's motives. But now... Now was when things really got good.

Iggy POV

"Hi, Barbie! Hi, Ken! You wanna go for a ride? Sure, Ken! Jump in!" I mocked their voices, secretly wishing I had Gazzy's gift of imitation.

"I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Life in plastic is fantastic! You can brush my hair, undress me anywhere; Imagination, life is your creation! Come on, Barbie, let's go party!" I hit my head against the door; purposely, don't worry, I'm not that stupid of a blind kid. I allowed myself to drag my fist and forehead down the thin piece of wood.

"How much longer do I have to stay in here? I can only think of so much to do! And I'm so hungry!" I whined. At this point, I didn't care. My abnormally fast metabolism was kicking off an all time high because of my frantic dancing. I heard a laugh.

"You, my dear Iggy, have to stay in there for five hours." I must have caught at least ten flies in my mouth. Five freaking hours?

"You're kidding right?" I questioned, practically shouting. I heard Max lean her fist against the door.

"Well, there is one way you can get out..." She dragged on.

Why the hell was this happening to me?

Next chapter, HIS ULTIMATUM! :D

BUUUUT, since it doesn't send out as being a replaced chapter and I want to have only like, 50 chapters, Y'all are lucky and I'll add the next chapter. It would be short anyway. OH. And...

ALERIA14 WAS OUR CONTEST WINNER FROM LAST MAY! Everybody cheer!

Zach: wooh.
Abby: Sorry for the long wait, Bell, and for his lack of enthusiasm.
Hope you like it!

Chapter 12

Max POV

"Well, there is one way you can get out..." I teasingly told Iggy. Number eleven on the list said that we could let him out on one condition, and one condition only. It was actually quite a horrible thing and I pitied the boy.

"So? What is the condition?" I could practically hear my "brother" salivating over freedom. Just as I opened my mouth, the doorbell rang.

"Max, can you get that?" Mom shouted.

"Hold on, Iggster. Five minutes won't kill you," I laughed as I left to check the front door. A girl who looked about my age was standing in our porch. She smiled warmly as I opened the screen.

"Hi! I'm Belinda, your next door neighbor! Ella's one of my best friends and she told me that her sister and adopted siblings were visiting! I take it you're Max?" She looked very excited to see me. I nodded.

"Hi, Belinda, it's nice to meet you. Would you like to come in?" She nodded.

"Oh, and call me Bell. Belinda seems way too formal." I was going to have to remember that. I started to lead her towards the closet we held Iggy captive in but she stopped me. "Ella told me about how you saved her from those boys. I wanted to thank you. She wasn't the only one who was bullied by them. I was actually shot in the leg by one of them. They stopped bullying shortly after you showed them up. So thanks." She had a small smile playing at her lips. I soothingly rubbed her shoulder and nodded an acceptance.

"Well, they're all jerks. Listen, are you into practical jokes?" She grinned from ear to ear, so I took it as a yes. I hastily showed Bell the list that was minimized on Fang's laptop.

"Come on, let's take a look at our victim." I had a sinister smile plastered on my face as I lead my neighbor to Iggy in a closet.

WOOOOOH FOR BELL!

Check out some of her stories! Or all of 'em, whatever floats your boat.

Zach: So tell them more about the news!
Abby: I'm on fictionpress, everyone! I'm writing a story based on my whole life, but everyones names are different (hence why my name is Danica in the story... hmmm...) I haven't gotten very far in it, but I've been told my life is dramatic enough to be a TV show... a book is satisfying enough. Want an excerpt? Well, why not? Writing seems to calm me down. Here's chapter one of My Life in Flames. Check it out on the real site!

My Life in Flames

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Okay. So lets just start out on a first name basis. My name is Danica, but call me that and you won't live to read another sentence in this story... thing. My friends just call me Dani. So get used to it, cause believe me when I say, that's what you'll call me, that's what you'll remember me by and that's the name you'll keep with you in the back of your mind for basically ever.

I'm not leaving because I've been told I have a way with words and it remains in your subconscious until the day you die. Like I said, you'll wanna remember the name Dani.

Now, where was I...? Ah, right.

So everybody basically thinks I'm this depressed girl with souless, heartless, mother fucking parents and a shitty life. Either that or that I'm just about the happiest camper you'll ever encounter.

My job? Well, I have to tell you about it. I'll give you a fair warning; this is not a happy story for the weak- minded, unicorn loving, happy-happy-joy-joy kid. This is not a pretty story. You can't expect a fairy tale life when all you've ever known is lies and heartbreak.

So, I'm your normal American teenage girl; fourteen if you're looking for the creepy, stalkery details. I'm pretty short, standing at five foot, one and three quarters of an inch. In the summer my blonde hair naturally soaks up the sun and there you have it; a wonderful, messy disaster of just about a thousand different hair colors.

Though people tell me otherwise, I live and breathe to believe that my slightly pukey green colored eyes are the only nice feature about me. Oh, and my wicked sense of sarcasm and slapstick sense of humor.

Imperfections; I've got plently. I've got a half a forehead covered in pale pink acne since I'm stubborn and refuse to ever put my bangs up. My eyesight is so completely terrible that people often tell me that I'm legally blind. Yeah, keep laughing while you feel all high and mighty sitting behind your totally awesome, fantastic keyboard. It's all just hilarious. I've got what my dad calls 'bird lips' because they're pretty darn tiny and an excessive amount of bust plus my awkward lack of butt constantly piss me off.

My parents divorced each other when I was a wee third grader, suddenly sending my life crashing down into utter chaos and bursting into pathetic hells of flames.

Being a stupid, senseless, immature, naive and totally unaware little kid has got to be just about the best thing possible. Why I ever wished to grow up, I still can't figure out. When you're finally aware of all the meaningless shit that completely envelopes your life, you really wish you could turn back time like Hermione Granger with a time turner.

So now... I'm basically at a loss of where to start... Maybe the day I was born? I mean, obviously, it's not like I remember that day or anything, but shocker here, it's a pretty vital moment in every human being's life.

So shall we flash back? Enjoy the ride and remember, this is a true story, though not how everybody recalls.

Welcome to my own personal hell; The life of Danica Jones.

Good? Bad? Crappy start? Go to fictionpress and tell me! -winks- I hope you liked the Iggy story, too! And I'm aware of how confusing this seems... Sorry :/ But I still love you all!

Love and Inkless Pens,
~Abby