A/N- I'm loving this fic so far. It's so fun to type random funny things.

I have a request for you all. Before you read this, look up 'Shakira's Hips Don't Lie' on YouTube and watch the official video. It'll be a more…enriched reading experience if you see the video beforehand. C= HAHAHAHAHA!

So, now we learn of Iggy's Shakira face. Let us begin!

DTITITSTCTLTATITMTETRT!- I no own Maximum Ride. Also, Spark gets credit for creative help. And the song is 'Hips Don't Lie' by Shakira. No offence to her fans. (You'll see what I mean.)

The Many Faces Of Iggy

Hips Don't Lie

Where had Iggy gotten to? He had disappeared hours ago, and nobody had seen him. Maybe he had gone out for a fly?

Just as I passed the stairs on my way out the door, I heard something. It sounded like… music.

Ladies up in here tonight

No fighting

(We got the refugees up in here)

No fighting

No fighting

Shakira, Shakira

What the heck? Shakira? I spun around and headed up the stairs, wanting to know who in this house listened to Shakira. They deserved a good beating. Incessant teasing could work too, though.

I followed the music, up the stairs, down the hall, and to…Iggy's room?

I'm on tonight

You know my hips don't lie

And I'm starting to feel you boy

Come on, let's go, real slow

Don't you see baby ali es perfecto

What was Iggy doing listening to Shakira? I silently opened the door, slid in, and went invisible. I loved my power. It was very convenient for spying, to be able to literally disappear.

OH MY GOD OW OW OW OH WHY MY EYES THEY BURN I CAN NEVER UNSEE THIS WHY OH WHY DEAR GOD WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS HORROR!

Iggy was in the middle of the room.

Shirtless.

Belly-dancing to 'Hips Don't Lie' better than Shakira.

I think my eyes burned out of the sockets at that.

I looked around the room, anywhere but at Iggy. I was so focused on the music, I just now heard a … splashing sound. Looking in the corner, I saw the source.

There was some girl in a wizards costume and a Transformers tee shirt, but her hat was on the ground, and she was huddled in the corner of the room, throwing up into a trash bin. For some reason, the girl gave me some serious déjà-vu. Weird.

"Iggy, stop! For the love of all that is Transformers, stop!", she screamed at Iggy.

He didn't even pause. He just started to sing along, in exactly the same pitch as the original.

Okay, this was getting seriously creepy here…

Then, it got even worse. Iggy reached behind his head…

… and pulled down a zipper hidden in his head, revealing a crazy woman with some seriously inhuman flexibility! It was Shakira! The horror! The pain! The agony!

How had Iggy hidden this from us all these years? How had we never known that he was Shakira all along! How had we thought a grown woman was a fourteen-year-old bird kid! How could we have been so blind!

All these years, I loved Max, when Shakira and her hips were right here all along! I had been missing out on so much! Who needs Max?

Then, the girl in the corner looked straight at me, even though I was invisible.

"Fang, you're being such a pervert! And Fax is meant to be! How can you leave her so easily?"

… Was she reading my mind? What the heck was going on here?

She gave me a disappointed look as she indifferently shoved Shakira/Iggy out the window.

"Fang, you are a horrible person. This was a test." She huffed a big sigh. "Gina and I made a bet. She has this weird fictional-character-crush on you, but I told her Iggy is way better. So, I come here to prove that you'd give Max up for Shakira, and go so far as to believe that Iggy would lie to you for years. You failed the test. I should have Gina send you to Ratchet for a little bit of brain surgery; you're pretty OOC."

Man, that girl talked fast. And who was Gina? And wasn't Ratchet a… Transformer? I was no way in feathery snakes going to have a giant robot who didn't exist give me brain surgery! And for what? Was OOC some kind of disease? Was I going to die?

The creepy fast-talking girl gave a sad little shake of her head.

"You may as well die, for how bad being OOC is. It annoys people big time. I'm going to have to notify my agents; we need to get you on the operating table STAT. You're starting to realize the truth, beginning to see the existence of fanfiction and how a great part of your life is a great big lie concocted by hormonal teenage authors with a lot of free time and a fetish for you."

She pulled a pink cell phone out of her pocket and started texting, muttering. It sounded something like, 'accursed case…thought it was red….pink, just too dumb to exist….' Then, she growled, smacked it, and went on about how she needed to take it to Ratchet and she was annoyed at the stupid thing for malfunctioning so much.

What a freak.

"I heard that."

Mind-reading freak.

She snapped the phone shut and started up talking again.

"Okay, Gina's on her way, with Hide, just in case you resist, oh gosh, I hope they get here without killing each other. Who in their right mind throws soap into a giant alien robot's plasma cannon? Of course, she has no mind, is insane, and now Ironhide loathes her….ugh, if they start fighting again, I'll beat them both."

Just then, she was interrupted by the second window shattering. None of the glass even hit the floor though, it just disappeared into thin air. If that wasn't creepy and unnatural enough, another girl flew in on a witches' broom.

This one was wearing a Lord Of The Rings-ish cape and a gypsy sash over top of regular jeans and a purple shirt.

"So, Hide's waiting outside, and I brought the elf tribal leader too; extra protection."

Great. Another eccentric.

She rolled her eyes at me and hugged the original freak. They were like sisters.

Then, the second girl came over and hugged me so hard I passed out.

I was confused as heck. I kept seeing weird images…

Iggy dancing like Shakira.

Iggy with a hot pink Mexican mustache.

Iggy with half his hair blown off by a bomb.

Why in the world was I dreaming about Iggy? I'm not gay, am I?

God, I hope not.