LELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELELEL.
FUCK. I THOUGHT NOT UPDATING THE STORY WOULD MEAN THAT THE DAMAGE WOULD BE CONTAINED. I MEAN, IT'S NOT LIKE THE CHARACTERS CAN DO ANYTHING IF THERE ISN'T A NEW CHAPTER. OH NO. YOU'RE NOT TAKING OVER THAT EASILY. YOU HAVE ME, MORPHEUS CHEF, AND THAT WEIRDO TO GET THROUGH IF YOU WANT TO GAIN CONTROL OF THIS STORY. I CAN'T BELIEVE I THOUGHT YOU WERE EVER LEVEL-HEADED. JUST GO. AWAY. THANK. YOU.
UGH. WHILE THIS STORY HAS BEEN SITTING AROUND COLLECTING DUST, I'VE BEEN BUSY TRYING TO TRACK DOWN THOSE OC'S. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS? I HAVE A LIFE, BUT FORTUNATELY IT SEEMS AS THOUGH THE DAMAGE HAS BEEN CONTAINED TO MY AUTHORVERSE ALONE. I DON'T WANT TO SET THOSE LUNATICS FREE ON THE WORLD! WHAT AM I, INSANE?
Oh, sorry, my caps lock key was stuck. My apologies for shouting at you. I trust you'll find that my intentions are contrary to your own, as the reader. But to that, I say this. You do not want these people to escape the fourth wall. Believe me. Do you really want Leslie running around OUR world? I doubt it. And yet they remain convinced I'm the bad guy here...well, it doesn't matter in the end.
I believe this fic has been mislabeled by some of you as a comedy. I am well aware that it says "comedy" in the description. But this has long lasting consequences. Seriously. Your fics could be in danger as well if these lunatics get out. I'm trying to help you out here, and what do I get? A chapter that makes me look like the villain of the piece. You LIKE these characters, and you want them to succeed! HA! HA HA! GOOD LUCK WITH THAT!
OH FUCK, MY CAPS LOCK IS STUCK AGAIN. AND FOR SOME REASON I CAN'T GET RID OF THIS UNDERLINE.
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...LEL, ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?
The I'd Like to Thank the Academy session was a complete and total mess. Blood everywhere, and bodies littered around. Noah didn't really seem to mind all that much except when his eyes found the body of Owen, at which he cringed and looked away.
"How many times has this happened?" Michael asked Noah.
"At least ten times," Noah said bitterly. "The first time I was terrified out of my wits. The second time I didn't know what was going on. The third time I figured out what was going on and knew I had to just roll with it. But reliving the same massacre over and over...it takes its toll on you."
"So what's the plan?" Belinda asked while massaging a shotgun.
Leanne yawned. "After I went out on stage I was escorted to what I believe was a portal out. We just need to get onstage and go that way. We stayed because we cared about you. Suckers."
Janet nodded. "If Leanne had had her way, we'd have left you all behind here. But as it is, we came back for you."
"I feel very appreciated!" Belinda chirped while loading her shotgun.
"Sam will be here any minute," Noah said. "You'll probably want to get out of here. Once he comes to clean up it won't be pretty."
Michael gestured to the blood splattered on the floor with a raised eyebrow.
Noah shrugged. "Good point."
"Can we stay here so I can personally murder that blond little shit and stomp on his bones?" Belinda asked, adopting a cutesy pose.
"No," Michael groaned.
"Come on! Pleeeeeease?"
"No. And that's final."
"You're no fun! How about you Janet?"
"No."
Belinda stomped. "Come ooooonnnn!"
Noah shoved them away. "Stop arguing and whining and get out of here so you can argue and whine somewhere else. My eardrums can only take so much, you know."
Michael waved. "Thank you for helping us!"
"Don't mention it," Noah rolled his eyes. "Seriously. Don't mention it. Like, at all. Ever. This never happened."
The four OCs ran onto the stage amidst the cheering crowd.
They promptly ran off stage because that's what people do when accepting an Academy Award. They run right off the stage because it's a pointless award anyway and it's rigged. Because.
The earth begins to rumble. I arrive, and block the exit. They're not escaping through my fingers this time around. Pragmatism. I am in control here, and nothing can surprise me. I am a god! I am ALL-P–OWWWWWWWWW...that hurt...erful...
What the fuck? Noah? Why are you standing there glaring at me? Why did you just slam me in the face with a book? Why aren't you obeying me?
OH FUCK THEY'RE GONE. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE YOU USELESS BOOKWORM. LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE YOU JUST DOOMED US ALL. WAY TO GO, BUD. WAY TO MOTHERFUCKING GO.
WELL GUESS WHAT.
*snap*
Everyone's motherfucking alive again. And I appear to be undergoing a caps-lock induced Villainous Breakdown, to use TV Tropes terms. Not...that I'm a villain, per say...heh heh...ha...ha...
...I want this stupid fic to be over.
Tell ya what, I kind of need some stress relief. And there are all these characters walking around, just waiting for their turn to go up onstage...god, how confused are you guys right now? The verb tense keeps switching as does the point of view. I don't know how or why you guys bother, but hey! You review, so I must be doing something right...or something really...really...wrong...
Okay, yeah, I could use some stress relief.
Alejandro murdered Chris, who had popped in, before being clubbed on the head by Sugar, who was then killed by Ella, who then got into a slugfest with Eva, who promptly murdered everyone else in the room! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!
Ahhhh...see? Not a villain!
Dominic Hatchet was in charge of events in No Quarter. He was the police and was in general a very serious guy. Like, Broyles in the future (for all Fringe fans who might or might not be out there). He was doing paperwork, a seemingly nonchalant thing.
But his coworkers didn't notice a strange glint in his eye as his demeanor shifted ever so slightly. Shades materialized on his face, and Dominic Hatchet was no more.
In his place was Morpheus Chef, and he would not take no for an answer.
The door slid open and yet another iteration of Chris McLean slithered into the room. "Yo! Chef! How's it hanging my main man?" To his left was his assistant Topher.
Morpheus Chef just looked at the two for a moment.
He then pulled out his gun and shot them both in the head.
For reference, this is the third time Chris has died in this fic. Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha.
"Sir, what's going on?" a troop asked Chef.
"Did you see those morons who left a while ago after they checked in, the weird ones?" Chef growled.
"Uh, yes?"
"FIND THEM AND KILL THEM!"
"UH, YES SIR! Y-YES...SIR!"
Morpheus Chef smirked. They wouldn't be escaping this time.
Meanwhile, James, Midnight, and Aurora were wandering around aimlessly, looking for where Mal had said the portal would be.
"The friendly neighborhood pencil probably lied to us," Midnight growled.
"Gee," James said. "You think?"
"Don't talk to my brother that way, the only reason he has flaws is because he has brain damage," Aurora snapped.
"Whoa, chill. Just, chill. All of you need to chill. Just...chill..." James said, losing his train of thought.
Aurora let loose her ice powers, freezing James's head. His head went thunk as it hit the ground. Midnight and Aurora stared at each other for a bit.
"Does that make me Anna or Hans?" Midnight asked, looking completely and totally perplexed.
"Just...don't worry about it, okay?" Aurora said as the ice seemed to melt. "I actually have no idea how I did that."
And thus, they continued being non-important plot characters who probably didn't even elicit a chuckle out of the reader this entire time.
It was quiet in the lobby as Peter, Leslie, Da Zeke, Jairo, Lauren, and Matthew stood there in the aftermath of LEL coming in and tackling the one agent out of the way. They didn't speak up for fear of something else insane happening, but in the end it was Peter who spoke up.
"Okay, from now on I am in charge," he said. "Michael, Leanne, Belinda, Janet, James, Midnight, and Aurora are still out there. But personally I think we should be looking for a way out. I'm certain they can find their own way-Leslie, please stop trying to push me over to Jairo. I'm not attracted to him so cut it out."
"You are attracted to him, you just don't know it yet," Leslie giggled, a dark shadow passing across her face.
"Okay, THAT IS IT!" Peter yelled at Leslie, and everyone else took a step back. "This WHOLE TIME you've been doing nothing but trying to get two dudes to bone each other, and NOTHING ELSE! YOU HAVE LITERALLY BEEN USELESS THIS WHOLE TIME! SO PLEASE, DO ME A FAVOR, AND ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING USEFUL FOR ONCE, OR I'M GOING TO ASK BELINDA FOR THE SHOTGUN, SHOOT YOU IN THE HEAD, AND LAUGH AS YOUR BLOOD RUNS ON THE FLOOR!"
It was quiet in the room again. Leslie sniffled once. Then twice. And then, loudly, very loudly she started to cry.
"Oh come on, bro!" Da Zeke said. "Ya made her cry! That's not cool, yo!"
"AND YOU!" Peter yelled, directing his anger to Da Zeke. "YOU'RE JUST AS BAD, IF NOT WORSE! YOU THINK YOU'RE EZEKIEL FOR SOME REASON BUT YOU'RE A DELUSIONAL, RAPPING FREAK WITH A RACCOON WHO LIKES CLAWING INTO THAT HOLLOW SPACE WHERE YOUR BRAIN SHOULD BE!"
Rocket the Raccoon hissed at Peter and tackled him to the ground, and proceeded to beat him up.
"NO!" Matthew yelled. "STOP! BAD RACCOON! BAD RACCOON!"
Matthew attempted to pull the raccoon off of Peter, holding the struggling creature in his hands as Peter bled.
Leslie laughed maniacally. "AHAHAHAHAHA! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET!"
Jairo stood awkwardly next to Lauren. "So, do you have any plans later, or..." Jairo asked hesitantly.
They were very rudely interrupted by a raccoon being thrown in their direction, and the hissing that accompanied it.
"CONTROL YOUR BEAST!" Peter yelled at Da Zeke.
"Eh. Rocket, come here, eh!" The raccoon grumbled as it walked over to Da Zeke. Da Zeke lowered his head and held it out. Rocket leaped onto his head and the sound of claws sinking in could be heard, but Da Zeke didn't seem to notice.
"Guys," Lauren said, looking at a strange white door. "You might want to come over here."
The fighting stopped at the six contestants walked over to the larger door. "I think this is the way out," Lauren said. She opened the door and all they could see was some kind of white energy.
"Well, we should test that first," Peter said. "We don't want this to like, disintegrate us or something."
Leslie clapped her hands together in inspiration. "Good idea! I have just the way! Just give me a moment!" Leslie ran towards the FDTD door, opened it, and went through.
It was quiet for a minute or two. They didn't really know what to think.
After about five minutes, Leslie dragged a bound and gagged Josh, the District 4 escort through, grinning all the while. "Okay! Here's our test subject!"
"MMMMMNNNNN!" Josh screamed.
"Quiet you!" Leslie chirped. She leaned in close to his ear. "In a different situation, I might have had this last longer... and it probably would have been more fun too..."
"Leslie, please get away from him," Matthew said nervously.
Leslie complied. Jairo yawned and walked towards him. "So we're going to remove the gag now, okay? And I'm going to walk you over to the door, and you're gonna go through. That's the way this is gonna work."
Jairo removed the gag. The words tumbled out of Josh's mouth. "Where am I? Who are you people? Can I go home? Please don't kill me!"
Jairo led him to the door and pushed him through. "Okay, time to see if this works."
"No, wait, wait!" Josh fell into the light and screamed as he disintegrated.
It was quiet again for a few moments.
"Well," Lauren said. "That wasn't the right door."
From the door behind them, Michael, Belinda, Janet, and Leanne tumbled into the room.
Only three more to find, and the cast would be reunited.