A/N: And another chapter is up! Sweet! On a sad-ish note, Raven Wolfmoon shall be going to Europe starting tomorrow and will not be back until the 4th of August. On a happier-ish note, this means that I can put whatever kind of crap in here that I want! Yayness!

Anywho, we would also like to add something to this particular author's note. Recently, there was a death in Raven's family. Her old swing set, which had served her faithfully for many years, passed away a few weeks ago. Raven insisted on posting a poem on here, so here it is:

Requiem for an Old Swing Set

In the end it protested loudly, what with lots of clanking and squeaking so I was sure the neighbors could hear every time I swang back and forth...

iheartmwpp: Uh, Raven? Swang isn't a word…

Raven: It is now!! Bitch! (Her eyes turn red as she pulls out a chain saw.)

iheartmwpp: Okay, okay, yeesh…

Disclaimer: We own nothing from the Chronicles of Narnia, Happy Feet, Fruits Basket, The Hobbit or Harry Potter.

Chapter 26: It's Party Time

Lucy watched as Edmund wolfed down his breakfast. "Narnia's not going to run out of brains, Ed," she admonished, grinning.

Edmund looked over at her, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. "Yes it is!" he shouted. "I have to eat all of it! The puppy-men will get all of it if I don't!"

"Someone's been at the Bitch's place for too long," muttered Susan, rolling her eyes at her sister.

"Didn't it already run out of brai—sausage?" Peter commented, staring at a butterfly. "Maybe we can get them to pack some up for us." The other three looked over at where Peter was standing.

Susan spoke up first. "What, we're going back?"

Peter nodded. "You are. You're all annoying, and you're also cutting in to my precious screen time."

"But they need us," protested Lucy. "All four of us are supposed to be in the movie."

"It's too dangerous," Peter reasoned. "You almost drowned, Edmund was almost killed! If you stay here, all of you might really die…You know what, never mind, you can stay and fight."

His siblings smiled at him.

"Not only that," Peter continued, "you can also fight in the front lines if you want." While the other three grinned at each other, Peter smirked evilly to himself. It would all just look like it was an accident…

Susan stood up then. "Well I suppose that's it, then."

Peter stared up at her. "Where are you going?"

"To go and upchuck what we just ate—I mean, to get in some practice," answered Susan as she grabbed her bow and arrows as well as a barf bag.

Susan nocked an arrow to the bowstring and pulled back, her elbow tucked down and into her side. She didn't notice that a good deal of her hair had gotten caught in the string. She released then, shrieking as her hair was pulled out, leaving an unpleasant bald spot which she quickly spray-painted to look real. The arrow didn't even get close to the target; in fact, it landed only a few feet from where the sisters were standing.

Lucy burst out laughing. "Ha ha, you fail at life!"

Susan thwacked her sister on the head with her bow. Lucy retaliated by chucking her dagger at Susan.

At that time, Edmund and Peter came riding up. Edmund was on a pretty pink pony with sparkles on the sides, whilst Peter was riding a unicorn with a long, silky mane. And sparkles. And sequins. Peter was attempting to teach Edmund how to fight. "Come on, Ed!" he called over to him, waving his sword around. "Sword point up, like Oreius showed us!"

"Hey, wait a minute," said Edmund. "Father Christmas took away your sword so you would stop stabbing yourself back in Chapter 20, but every chapter since you have been shown with a sword, and the authors didn't even specify if it's cardboard anymore or not. When did you get it back?"

"I…don't…really…know…dot…dot…dot…"

"Eh, the authors were just probably to lazy to mention that it fell trough a plot hole and hit Peter on the head before we went into the river of jello," said Mr. Beaver, who showed up out of nowhere. He scared the crap out of Edmund's horse, who promptly took a dump as he reared back.

"Whoa, horsie!" yelled Edmund, trying to stay on as the horse settled back down again.

The horse shook his head, affronted. "My name is Bruprect," he muttered.

Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Bruprect? What kind of name is that?"

The horse shrugged because horses can shrug. "Better than Towanga."

"Ah. Touché."

(A/N: iheartmwpp: My uncle wanted to call me Bruprect if I was a boy, and Towanga if I was a girl. My mom didn't speak to him for six months.)

"Anyway," Mr. Beaver said, as though nothing had happened, "the Bitch has demanded a meeting with Aslan. She's on her way here."

"Oh poopie," grumbled Edmund.

"Jadis, the Bitch of Narnia!" called out the one-eared puppy-dog man, leading the Bitch across the camp as members of Aslan's army jeered at them.

"Piss off, Bitch!" yelled a fawn.

"Empress of the Lonely Mountain!" continued the dog-guy.

"That's the wrong series, asstard!" corrected a centaur.

"No one likes you!" shouted the gorilla.

The dog-man sniffed. "That hurt!"

The Bitch, meanwhile, was being carried on a giant chair being held up by four Teddy Grahams. She was wearing a dress made out of seaweed, and her ferrets were glued in a pig-pile on the top of her head. She glared at Aslan as she approached, who in turn growled back at her. The Teddy Grahams set down the chair and the Bitch stood up. As she walked over to Aslan, she glanced at Edmund. He was staring at her, not noticing a penguin tap-dancing in the background. The Bitch turned back to the giant lion puppet thing.

"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

"I knew it!" shouted a female fawn, slapping her boyfriend.

The Bitch rolled her eyes. "I was talking about the human. Edmund betrayed you all."

"No shit," said the camp.

"So what?" said Aslan. "It's not like he did anything against you."

"He called me fat!" the Bitch insisted. The camp gasped and stared accusingly at Edmund.

"No I didn't! I said that Susan was fat!" protested Edmund.

"Oh. Okay then," said Aslan as Susan took off her belt and started beating Edmund with it, crying hysterically.

"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?" the Bitch stated.

"Of course not. I'm God!"

"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"It means that I kind of wrote the laws, idiot."

"…I knew that. But then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

"Well that's lovely for you," spoke up Peter, "but since just his blood is yours, can we have the rest of him?"

The Bitch laughed at him. "No. Piss off."

Peter took out his sword. "Meanie!"

"Besides, without his blood, he would kind of be dead. What would you want with a dead younger brother?"

"Target practice," replied Peter easily, fingering his sword. Behind him, Lucy was stroking her dagger and Susan was playing with her arrows.

"Why don't I have a weapon?" whined Edmund.

"Shut up, Edmund," said Peter. "Mommy and Daddy are talking."

The Bitch turned back to the lion. "Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the law demands, this movie will cease to exist and the only Narnia movie will be the 1980's version!" There was clamor amongst the crowd due to this horrifying news. The Bitch sneered in triumph. She pointed to Edmund. "That boy will be flushed down the Pewter Toilet as is tradition."

Edmund shuddered. "Well that's a shitty way to go," he muttered, then began laughing maniacally at his own sick pun. Everyone else slapped themselves in the face.

"You dare not refuse me," the Bitch continued, pointedly ignoring Edmund.

"Enough," said Aslan. "I shall talk with you alone."

The Bitch smirked and followed Aslan into the tent, smirking. Everyone in the camp was forced to wait until the two leaders were done talking.

100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,024,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,017,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,362,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 millennia later, everyone was still waiting. Edmund had begun to eat grass, he was so bored. Peter stared at him, deciding not to mention that the goats had just used that spot as a bathroom earlier that day. He then looked over at the tent. It was still shut, and no one had come out yet. Nor would anyone come out anytime soon, it seemed. Peter, who was by this time fed up with waiting, finally decided to get up and see what was keeping them.

Susan looked up at him as he stood up. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going into the tent," answered Peter. "It's been way too long since they've gone in there."

"But they might be…you know…occupied," reasoned Susan.

Edmund gagged on his grass. "Oh, I did not need that image."

Lucy looked at her siblings. "What are you guys talking about?" she asked innocently.

"Uh…nothing," Susan said quickly.

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm sure they aren't doing that."

"What makes you so sure?" said Susan.

"Because that idea is way overdone by fanfiction writers who write Narnian parodies. Our authors will want to try out an original idea for this pathetic excuse for a parody."

Edmund was nodding. "He has a point there."

Susan sighed, but saw the logic in this statement and nodded. She got up as well and followed her older brother while Edmund continued to eat grass. Lucy also got up to see what was going on, mainly because no one likes Edmund.

Peter walked up to the tent, his sisters following closely behind him. He reached out, hesitated for a moment, then pulled back the flap of the tent.

They were immediately greeted by a ping-pong ball flying at them and hitting Lucy right in the forehead, knocking her out. The older Pevensies watched in fascination at the game going on in the tent.

"Out again," said Aslan.

The Bitch glared at him.

"I told you, you have to let it bounce on the table."

"Shut up!" shouted the Bitch. "That's stupid. Why would I wanna hit that slow?"

"Why? Because those are the rules."

Peter and Susan observed as Aslan gently tapped the ball so that it went over to the other side.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" cried the Bitch, hitting the ball with all her strength.

Aslan wasn't fazed in the least as the ball went right past his head, this time knocking out Susan. "Out again," he repeated calmly.

The Bitch was practically breathing fire by this point.

Aslan glanced behind him at Peter. "I thought at least in ping-pong, she might have a chance to beat me. But, as usual, she's hopeless."

The Bitch let out another cry and up-ended the table tennis table. "HOW CAN I BEAT YOU WITH ALL THESE STUPID RULES, YOU DAMN LION? HOW 'BOUT WE TAKE THIS OUTSIDE?"

"You know, you're the one who wanted to play this game in the first place."

A vein popped in Peter's head. "You mean to tell us that you made us wait all this time just so you two could play ping-pong?!"

Both turned to look at him and nodded. Peter slapped himself.

The Pevensies exited the tent then, and went out to join their brother. The Bitch and Aslan followed shortly after. The Bitch walked back to her chair, glaring at Edmund once more as she passed. Aslan looked at Edmund as well, before announcing, "She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood."

"Oh, bugger," chorused the camp.

The Bitch turned around then. "How do I know your promise will be kept?"

Aslan let out the most quiet and pitiful roar in the world; it sounded more like a meow than a proper roar. It scared the Bitch so much that she stumbled backwards and fell into her chair. The Teddy Grahams picked the chair up and bore the Bitch away. Just before she was out of sight, she turned around and yelled back at everyone.

"I'll see you in a few weeks!"

"What?" everyone asked, not hearing her.

"I said, I'll be back in a few weeks!"

"Why a few weeks?" everyone screamed back.

"I'm hunting for new ferrets. These ones are all stuck together!"

"Maybe that's because of the glue…" Susan muttered under her breath.

"Shut up!" the Bitch replied with her amazing hearingness. Everyone shrugged as she disappeared with a 'pop'.

"How can the Bitch Apparate?" Lucy wondered. "We're not in Harry Potter!"

"Does it matter? Nothing else in this parody makes sense!" Peter pointed out.

"That's true…" Lucy said, looking down.

"Anyways, now we have time to party!" shouted a random centaur. He began to shimmy as music blared out of hidden speakers. The camp erupted in cheer and formed a conga line, Aslan at the head.

A/N: The stupid songs will start next chapter. If you can think of anymore, be sure to put them in in your review, otherwise I won't include them!