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AN: Yeah i did steel the title from "Squirell Girl Beats Up the Marvel Universe", pls don't sue meh, i don't have any moneh!

Agten Lux Secduses the PPC Uneverse Chapter On

Luxary was walkng down the hall in the PPC HQ. She was dressed in a short black skirt an a aqua-lavender croptop and she had her long blonde hair in a bun. She was on her way to see the Marquise de Sod, by special request. She knocked on the door and from inside she heard "Oh, anget Luxery! Come in!"

"Oh Soddy~! Wat evar could u want wit me? Have I ben a bad gril~?"

"Yes mis sLuxray you have. yiu have been a verry bad girl, and now i'm gonna punish you!"

(AN: I'll let u imagine wat happens next! ;P C u nxt chappie!)

0:
Did you read "The Making of a Queen aka. The raison d’être"?

Yes – continue at 2
No – continue at 1


1:
Go read it now, at least the charge list near the end.

Continue at 5.


2:
Did the charge list contain "inventing tickets for the Hogwarts Express"?

Yes – continue at 4
No – continue at 3


3:
As soon as the two agents arrived in RC #1953, the human ran to the console, brought the RMC and Mittens’ mission report up to the screen and scrolled down to the reading of the charge list. "We did it!" he crowed, turning to wrap his arms around Androiaavata and sweeping her up. "It’s actually changed! We broke through the Creativity Shield!"

Androiaavata struggled to escape. "Do you really think this is something good?"

A voice droned from the general direction of the ceiling.

"WE ARE LEGAL! YOU WILL BE DISPATCHED!"

[Expletive not translated]!

Continue at 6.


4:
As soon as the two agents arrived in RC #1953, the human ran to the console, brought the RMC and Mittens’ mission report up to the screen and scrolled down to the reading of the charge list. His face fell, and he used again some of the words the UT never translated. "It’s still there", he continued. "[Expletive] Creativity Shield!"

"You know," said Androia thoughtfully, "there might be a solution for this problem."

The male agent turned around to glare at her unbelievingly. "And what would that be? The Creativity Shield is assumed to be unbreakable!"

"Ask for Permission and get us into the real PPC, where we can actually achieve something. Did you really never think of this?"

[Expletive not translated]!

Continue at 6.


5:
Did you read it?

Yes – continue at 2
No – continue at 1


6:
A/N: Is this the end of the Department of Inaccuracies and its self-insert agent? One never knows. There’s still the issue of Agent Mordecai Lee in "A Very Alternate Source of Mental Agony" (Link: https://archive.is/http://rc6664.webs.com/mission5.htm) saying that Hermione Granger was not fifteen years old at the time of the Yule Ball. But since this didn’t go onto the charge list (and PitViperOfDoom is not available for "beta reading"), there is hope that Dark Lady Jane will not return to complain about it.

((Serious question: What would the community think about taking on a faulty mission report without asking for the author's consent? Obviously such an attempt would be condemned to fail, because it is impossible to break the creativity shield and actually change an existing mission report as long as this report’s author doesn’t agree. It still may be a way to acknowledge that the PPC is not infallible, like an errata for a printed book, but funnier than just a list of known errors.

ETA: This was initially written more than a year ago, but then Imperial Liechtenstein invaded Fanfic World. So, since I actually got Permission now, I would also like to know what the community thinks about making the Department of Inaccuracies a canon department. After all, PPCing the PPC may not be as bad an idea as I thought when I started this trilogy.

And although these are the badfic games, serious reviews – or sporkings – would be appreciated too. I’m still learning this job. I hope that everything bad in this mission report is intentionally so, and that everything I intended to be bad is actually perceived as typical badfic. But how can I know if you don’t tell me?

HG))

While Mittens and the RMC stayed to take care of the mini-Aragog, the human and the night-elf agent followed the canon characters and the Fae outside of the Great Hall and along the halls of Hogwarts, but when the canons turned to the Hospital Wing, Androiaavata felt herself dragged further upstairs. "Where are we going?" she asked when the other agents, the canons and the Stu were all out of earshot. "Are we not supposed to hit Agent Mittens over the head with a printout of the badfic? And probably the RMC should be hit with it as well."

"We’re supposed to stay healthy, so we can continue doing our job. Thus, we’ll change into some dry clothes before we make any further plans. And concerning this misrepresenting-the-badfic thing, considering that they somehow managed to stay dry, I wouldn’t expect overworked agents remembering every detail of such an outdrawn scene. Maybe we can shove it under the rug. This doesn’t need to be decided now."

Talking so much and climbing up a stair don’t go well together for an elderly man. I was quite out of breath when we arrived at the seventh floor, but I was still able to find the tapestry showing Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet, and to walk Androia past it three times while thinking hard: ‘We need dry clothes and a place to change, and I also need a printout of this badfic.’ Unfortunately, nothing happened. Why the heck didn’t it work? Maybe the Invisibility Cloak hid us too well, even from the Room of Requirements? I dropped the cloak and paced the corridor again, concentrating hard on what I wanted.

Androiaavata took the Invisibility Cloak up from the floor. While her hands folded it into a neat package without her even thinking about it, she watched the human become more and more angry. When he stopped pacing, the wall opposite the tapestry was still just a blank wall. The man uttered a series of words the universal translator didn’t translate, because, as he hat put it once, "these are not appropriate for big, innocent, young ears." She wondered whether she should tell him that she couldn’t stop thinking that all this talk about health and getting into dry clothes was just a pretence to make her take her clothes off again. To her surprise, the human stopped cursing before she could make up her mind, and displayed this wicked smile she still didn’t know what to make of.

Just for a minute, I forgot that the Room of Requirement is not a Room of Wish-Fulfillment. So this has been decided for us. We are not required to hit agents with a badfic they misrepresented in their mission report (and the wet garment clinging to the girl's body isn’t actually a bad view), but we still have to decide whether "making yourself soaking" can stay on the charge list when this was actually done to her. Anyway, I remember the perfect place to finish this, so I defocus my eyes to find the cave that appears about 85 percent into the mission report, or, as it turned out to be in terms of the badfic, in chapter eighteen, section six, paragraph two.

The human’s face went blank for a moment, as it usually did when he read the words, then he took the remote activator out of one of his pockets and typed a sequence of numbers. ‘It is powered by plotholes,’ thought Androiaavata frantically, ‘it is powered by plotholes. There is certainly no electricity in it.’ Fortunately her partner didn’t remember the fiasco Mittens and the RMC had experienced with their neuralyzer, or his usual reasonability had been worn out over the last hour, so that he didn’t try to compare the portal generators remote activator to the remote activator of a TV set. The portal flickered into existence and the two agents donned the Invisibility Cloak again and stepped through. They arrived just at the same time as Jareth.

"Well, well, look there sisters, what the cat just dragged into our neck of the world" an old, high-pitched voice reached his ears just as he reached the open top of the mountain, the winds tangling his long cape around his legs "Anyone would have thought he of all creatures would know better than to stir up things that have already been set in motion to pass"

Although the place had been called a cave in the first paragraph, at the end of a long way up the mountain, or through the mountain, the world settled for a grotto when the words made it obvious that the three Fates could see the Goblin King and that Jareth could hear the Fates talking before he even had reached the entrance to the so-called cave. Androiaavata noted that this came in handy for an attempt to use her druidic magic. As Jared and the Fates, who might actually have been Norns – and the real deal to boot – indulged in some banter, and the youngest Norn casually cut a life thread, the wind carried from somewhere far enough a scream of sorrow, further confirming that this couldn’t actually be far underground. King Jareth reminisced about Sarahs latest shenanigans, before he took a seat atop one of the many heavy rocks scattered on the floor, which wasn’t made of solid rock, since Androiaavata and the word world noticed that there was sand an ash all over his boots by now. Very handy this was.

Apparently her partner had the same thought, for he shoved a book into her hands and whispered his advice. "Since you’re so font of hitting people over the head, you do it. I’ll get the note book."

The two agents then watched silently as the Goblin King tried to return the gift of eternal love for a soul mate who had sent mixed signals over the last twelve chapters and apparently didn’t intend to love him back in the expected way. The Norns told Jareth that only Sarah’s death could free him from their gift, and a thread to the wizarding world that had been forgotten for the last twelve chapters raised its ugly head for a short moment.

"If they found a decent beta reader and left the Potterverse and the Labyrinth alone to enact their original story, the Haunted King might actually be a good fairy tale," grumbled the human agent.

"We are not here to judge the badfic," reminded Androiaavata. "At least this is what you told me – master," she added after a short hesitation.

No more words were spoken. After all, there was really nothing left to be said.

The agents arrived at the cave, just as Jareth had stormed out. The three women looked up at them and smiled, had a little chat with the Floaters, were neuralyzed with no effect whatsoever and were sent back to Norsk Mythology, where they belonged. Then the Floaters planned their final attacks, exploiting the Faes’ allergy to iron and Sarah being a heavy sleeper.

The RMC grinned. It was quite a disconcerting sight. “Did you bring any duck tape?”
Mittens actually looked mildly affronted at the question. “I brought two rolls.” Then he also grinned, and the agents of the Department of Inaccuracies decloaked.

Roots broke out of the sandy floor and wound around the Radioactive Moss Creatures legs. It tried to speak or to draw its sword, but found itself totally immobilized by the power of nature’s magic. Mittens got one of his knives out before he was stopped by a Commanding Voice. "Agent Mittens! Hand Over This Notebook. Right Now!"

Mittens forgot immediately that he was not standing in front of a superior officer and gave this stranger whatever he wanted. Androiaavata approached the RMC, lifting Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone high above her pointy ears. "Ages ago," she said, "you asked since when tickets are needed for the Hogwarts Express. Your answer is in here, at the end of chapter five." The book came down onto the RMC’s head. "Know your canon, Agent Moss!"

Meanwhile, the human agent had scribbled into Mittens’ notebook and handed it back. "Now Continue Your Mission, Agents!"

The spell’s duration expired, the roots fell off the RMC’s legs and retreated into the ground, and the two Floaters hurried through a portal back to Hogwarts.

"Must we follow them and watch the assassinations?" asked Androiaavata, looking worried.

"Sarah Sue being drowned in the Bog of Eternal Stench? No way! I’ve had enough of that stench. Let’s go home."

(To be continued)

The person at the door turned out to be Minerva McGonagall. The agents hid in a room as Sarah passed them to go downstairs, then crept out and watched the action from the top of the stairs.

Undead!Sarah and the Correctors, well hidden under the Invisibility Cloak that miraculously fitted all three of them, watched the Floaters, disguised as Gryffindor students, watching McGonagall and the Williams family discussing the revelation that Sarah is a witch. "This Sarah looks exactly like our visitor," whispers Androia, as if I wouldn’t notice this myself. But from standing so close to our Sue, I can tell that they certainly don’t smell alike. How did she get between us anyway? This was supposed to be cuddling time.

McGonagall proceeded to explain, that since the Headmaster wanted Sarah to start her training from the basics, she could be given a potion, called Reincarna, that would turn her into an eleven-year-old.
“Charge for inventing an non-canonical potion,” the female student said.

"That’s the Radioactive Moss Creature, also known as RMC," whispered the agent whose name is still unrevealed. "Keep this in mind for future reference. The boy is Mittens, apparently some sort of minor devil from some sort of hell."

"How do you know, master?" whispered Androiaavata back. "They do not look like a devil and a moss creature."

"Remember that I remember everything I’ve seen in the archives. I expected this mission coming to us since I arrived in the PPC." But there was this nagging doubt. Misrepresented the story? Should I have actually read the glaurunging thing, not just the mission report?

Meanwhile, McGonagall finished a monologue with something that might be called a sentence, although it didn’t end with a full stop. "If you decide to go through this the potion will be send, together with the things Miss Williams would need for her first year and a ticket for the Hogwarts Express"

“Again, heredity does not work that way, and since when do you need tickets for the Hogwarts Express?” the RMC asked.

"There it is," hissed Undead!Sarah. "Charge them!"

“… tickets for the Hogwarts Express,” Mittens repeated as he wrote the charges.

"They can’t blame me for Rowling never bringing it up again after chapter six," whined the undead Sue.

"So, should we hit them with the book you certainly brought with you, master?"

"Not yet. There’s no single point of intervention here. We have to watch more, and we need to get this [expletive not translated] note book."

Sensing her partner’s gloomy mood, Androiaavata decided to brush his ego a bit more, lest his anger might fall back unto her. "Please enlighten me, master. If everything Miss Williams needs will be send to her, does she ever visit Diagon Alley? Should she be charged for not being chosen by her wand?"

"Doesn’t matter. We aren’t here to add to a charge list that’s already ridiculously long."

"I hope you two aren’t trying to avoid taking any action by discussing technicalities," scolded Undead!Sarah.

The other Sarah was no longer in sight; apparently she had left short after McGonagall, and if she had gone upstairs to her room, Mittens and the RMC had somehow avoided to be seen by her. Androiaavata had been too distracted to know what exactly had happened, but now the Floaters were downstairs, neuralyzing the two adults and sending them back to their canon along with the baby, then they vanished through a portal. A sudden time distortion made the agents stumble, and they had to cling to Undead!Sarah. Ten days later she faced a mirror, holding a crystal vial containing a turquoise liquid.

The human, the night elf, and the undead Sue were thrown against the mirror, and the agents watched in horror as Undead!Sarah diffused through the Invisibility Cloak and melted with the mirror image that indisputably was hers as well as the other Sarah’s.

"For a new life" she muttered, raising the potion in solitary toast "Cheers"

"Now that’s a kind of mirror magic I didn’t expect," muttered the male agent, wrapping his arm around Androiaavata’s waist to steady her as the fic yanked them both six years forward into a compartment of the Hogwarts Express.

"I am glad that she is gone," whispered the night elf, unwrinkling her nose and giving in to the embrace. "This stench was unbearable." The human agent laid a finger on her lips to silence her. After all, the Sue, now two years older then she had been before she drank the Reincarna potion, was in the same compartment and there was nothing to distract her but dwelling in her own thoughts and memories and the dreams of a ballroom dance.

As soon as the Sue had fallen asleep, the male agent removed his finger from Androiaavata’s lips and fumbled for the remote activator and Undead!Sarah’s list of important information. "When she wakes up, we’re suddenly in a potions class," he murmured. "And I don’t intend to be yanked through all the [expletive not translated] flashbacks and elsewhere-scenes Mittens and the RMC had to watch. So, the Sue’s other complaint refers to FFN1711100-6/3/24. That’s about one third through the mission."

The agents stepped through the portal and arrived in the middle of a battle, or at least a duel. A Death Eater fell onto the floor of the Great Hall, felled by Sarah’s leg-locking curse, but still able to set an indeterminate number of non-canonical Deathstrike snakes on Sarah, using his snake-animagus parseltongue skills. Sarah conjured a ring of fire around her to ward of the snakes. The Death Eater quickly conjured a thunderstorm inside the Great Hall.

Thick, heavy rain soaked Sarah to the bone, making her robes, shirt, tie, socks and grey plaited skirt (things she wore under the robes… I've noticed that the School uniform is not reduced to black robes, including a white shirt and grey trousers/skirts and a tie with the House colours) stick to her skin as well as her long hair, that had freed itself from the remaining pins. The flames were quickly dying, much to the girl's horror and the snakes that hadn't been singed were ready to jump into action the moment the fire was out.

"Locking his tongue might have been more useful," commented Androiaavata. "Charge for in-fic and redundant author’s notes?"

"I told you already that we're not here to add to the charge list. Look out!"

The agent flung himself unto his partner and both landed in a mass of tangled limbs on the floor as a fireball hurtled over them. The deranged Invisibility Cloak did not hide them longer, but fortunately Mittens and the RMC, who had found a save and dry place from where to snark at the badfic, were too busy watching a touching scene (Sarah protecting the miraculously arrived house-elf Winky) being destroyed by the way Finian Bloodstone first cast a fireball from behind Sarah and then was jerked through the room like a puppet on invisible strings to cast another, undefined spell, this time standing in front of her. Sarah felt rather than saw the blood soak her attire, mixing with the wetness from the rain that had stopped moments ago.

While Sarah conjured an unbreakable crystal ball around Winky, and the Floaters wondered why she didn’t protect herself in the same way, the Death Eater muttered an enchantment to strengthen the magical barrier that kept Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley out of the Great Hall. Sarah hit the Death Eater with an uncanonical spell, and the barrier began to break, but Sarah was too weak from wounds and snake poison to defend herself any longer when the Death Eater recovered and casted the unforgivable killing curse. In the last possible moment, Ginny wished the Death Eater away, and Jareth the Goblin King returned into Sarah’s life.

Androiaavata and her partner, who had disentangled themselves and rearranged the Invisibility Cloak, creped out of the way as Saxo Cruore – no, Finian Bloodstone, he had not been recruited yet – was dragged to the Underworld. Having dealt with this, the Goblin King started to care for Sarah.

He seemed imposing even as he asked for help, the soaking girl tucked within his arms safely.
“Soaking?” the RMC asked. “When did she get wet?”
“He must have drooled on her some more, while we had our backs turned,” Mittens said.

"No, this Death Eater made it rain on her," whispered Androiaavata. The RMC did not hear her.

“Charge for making herself soaking, thereby creation horrible implications.”

“She should be taken to the Hospital Wing” Minerva McGonagall said with her usual no-nonsense tone of voice “Madam Promfrey will most likely be awake, don’t you think Albus?”

(To be continued)

Summary: A Sue who should not exist anymore teams up with the Department of Inaccuracies to right a wrong.
Genre: Serious Business
Rating: T, I suppose.

DISCLAIMER: I still don’t own the PPC, it belongs to the legendary agents Jay and Acacia. Nor do I own Androiaavata’s home continuum World of Warcraft, which is property of Blizzard Entertainment. The Harry Potter series of books was created by the magnificent Joanne K. Rowling. The Labyrinth probably doesn’t need to be disclaimed here because it isn’t actually involved. The Making of a Queen belongs to Artemis Samhain, who may kindly keep it. It was sporked by EileenAlphabet and you should go and read this, because it’s good although it’s not free of errors (and I siriusly don’t intend to recap this monster of a mission report). The agents in the Department of Inaccuracies are mine.

Author’s Notes:
I subdued last year’s little rebellion; Androia knows her place again. Since you gave me more than the requested number of reviews, this is all your fault.
Many thanks to my beta reader ElenaAlgebra for the valuable suggestions I mostly ignored. All residual errors are obviously mine.


Prologue

The music was soft and mellow, almost seductive, as it had always been. Her dress was dark black like her hair, the tight bodice held by spaghetti straps fitting her lustrous curves, the wide skirt swinging free as she whirled around and around. All the other dancers, in their costumes made of damask, silk and satin, hid their faces behind masks; they didn’t matter. There was only One who counted, the handsome immortal who held her tightly in his arms and spun her around, until the daydream ended abruptly when he steered her into a wall.

Actually, the obstacle was a door set into one of the walls of the endless grey corridors. Sarah shook her head to clear her mind and glanced at the number on the door, comparing it to the first number scribbled onto the sheet of paper in her hand. Apparently she had got good advice. Just don’t pay attention while you walk, and you will arrive where you need to be. And yes, here she was, and she didn’t bother to knock. How could she be expected to be polite after all they had done to her?

A pink-coloured human-shaped flash crossed the room at amazing speed and disappeared behind a door when Sarah entered RC #1953. The elderly man who had been left behind glared at Sarah. "What’s your business here?" he asked savagely.

Sarah countered the man’s fury with an icy tone. "Is this the Department of Inaccuracies?"

"Why would you assume that such a Department even exists?"

"Because the – entity at the help desk said this would be the place to take my complaints to. I have been unjustly charged by employees of your organization, and my story has been misrepresented in their mission report. What do you intend to do about this?"

The man’s mood appeared to lift immediately. He took some sort of device out of a drawer and pointed it at Sarah. It looked like a sort of pocket calculator. Sarah could not see the display.

[Sarah Aithne Rhiannon Williams. Half-witch/half-Fae female OC, known to be ’such a calm, collected girl, who always had good timing’. Not!Labyrinth x Harry Potter. Undead Sue. Out of Character 50.38%.]

I frowned at the display. 50.38% is barely enough for a badfic. Maybe we should throw in some bad role-play and unwanted innuendo. Fortunately, Sarah had already given us a head-start. Good timing indeed.

The man frowned, shrugged and then drew his face into a malicious grin as he started to take more devices out of the drawer and stuff them into his pockets. "Androia," he shouted, "bring the quill patches! It’s one of those missions again." He turned to Sarah. "Do you have the exact coordinates on your paper there?"

Since she couldn’t get to her uniform while the stranger was there, Androiaavata had slipped into her old novice gown. Hearing her master’s voice, she hefted the appropriate flash patch onto her left shoulder and returned to the RC’s main room, just in time to hear the stranger talk. "To gather the evidence, we first need to go to ISBN-9780747573609/66-29".

"But this is a canon destination," said the non-human girl who had just re-entered the room. She was now wearing a long blue gown with a quill dropping red ink on the left shoulder, and Sarah wondered what species she might be. Her ears would have been far too long and pointy even for a Fae, reaching up above her head, and the pink of her face was too bright even for the given situation.

"No disguises then," decided the man. "The canon characters can't see us anyway." Meanwhile, the girl whose name was apparently Androia, had typed on several keys at a thing that looked like a computer console, and a blue-gleaming rectangle had appeared in mid-air. "Ladies first," said the man with a little bow. With an irritable frown, Sarah stepped through the portal. The two agents followed and arrived on a platform at Paddington station just in time to watch a giant man and a small boy approaching a train.

Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would carry him back to the Dursley’s, then handed him an envelope.

"Here it comes," hissed Sarah. "Pay attention!"

‘Yer ticket fer Hogwarts’, he said. ‘First o’ September – King’s Cross – it’s all on yer ticket.’

Sarah jumped excitedly. "There, have you seen it? Now we can go to my story. The coordinates are FFN 1711100..."

I rip the paper out of her hand, take the remote activator out of my pocket and type in the coordinates I memorized so long ago. This is going to be fun.

"Wait," says Androia. "Are there any original characters in this story? They will see us. Did you bring a Dorks?"

Insubordination again? Implying that I forgot important equipment? Or a legitimate concern? I glare at her. "I’ve got something better than the D.O.R.K.S." And I whip out the Invisibility Cloak.

(To be continued)

((I may need to rewrite the third part of the Department of Inaccuracies Trilogy into goodfic so that it can be archived in my upcoming spin-off. This, of course, means that the department will need to be made canonical. If agents wearing Octagonal Snowflake badges appear in the PPC, it’s your fault!

HG))

Have a... erm, here , have this freshly brewed cup of Earl Grey

the Lounge in its current iteration has no concrete rules for language — It just has the Constitution; that's one of the reasons I started this thread. I changed the bit in the wiki article, though. And I really hope the community can reach some sort of accord on this — "every mod has their own view of what is and isn't Constitutional" is bound to cause problems down the line.

Okay, guys, I decided to write about the Aviator cause she’s pretty cool. Hope you guys like it, and please review!

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

The sue was the one from Bird Brain, and she was talking about the difference between orcs and goblins and stuff, and the Aviator had had just about enough of her stupidity.

“They are exactly the same!” the Aviator exploded, grateful for the distraction. Then she pondered “But are they in the movieverse, though?”

Zeb said nothing (AN/: because I hate the character and feel like excluding him, it’s a creative choice so just live with it okay?)

“Well, it’s never said that they’re not,” the Aviator said to herself. She was annoyed. She tilted her head and thought. “I’m going to attack the Sue now, and I don’t have to worry about charging her because everyone loves me!”

Suddenly, Davros appeared behind her, cackling maniacally. ‘Capture her, my pretties!’ he cryed, as the Daleks shot tendrils of electricity and bound her painfully between the two (AN: I know they don’t in Doctor Who but these do cause Davros made these special Daleks). As the Aviator cried out in pain, she screamed, ‘Why?”

“SCIENCE!!!!!” Davros stated menacingly, and began to apply the electrodes, still cackling with glee as the Aviator saw wings conveniently placed in the corner. “NO! YOU’re gonna do to me what you did with that Sue!”

“Yes,’ said Davros, “I will. And I will tell you why, it is because of my fetish for wings, and my queen must be a winged Timelord!”

“You mean you’re going to make me. . .” her eyes dialed in horror, “The QUEEN of the Dalleks?!!!” Davros cackled in agreement.

“I’ll never love you!” the Aviator threatened bravely.
“That is why I have also procreated the Doctor!!” stated Davros, as the Doctor stepped into the laboratory room. The Aviator could see him over the top of the tight leather suit Davros had put her in before taking her to the opposite end of the compound and bounding her to the cold metal table (A/N: sorry, forgot to write that, lol).

The tall blonde Tim Lorde stepped from the shady doorway, and the Aviator could tell he was one of those Dalek slaves from that one episode with Amy and Rory’s divorce cause he had a blue-glowing-eye sticking out from his forehead. He also had wings, which he fluttered. Ignoring Davros’s sudden blush, she was suddenly intreeged, not just by the hot Timelord, but also by a plan! She had an idea!

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Okay, guys- that’s the end of my first chapter! Word says its like 500 words long- WOW!!! Hope the next one doesn’t take so long to write. Everyone who reviews to let me know they liked my story is the best!

Have some Glitter Cupcakes. Only with Purified Glitter, promise.

I don’t know about Metahumans and Nobodies, but I can relate. And I realize now that Androia is far too enthusiastic about the Hunger Games. Given her backstory, she should freak out when she realizes what the event generator does to the tributes. Luckily, she never stayed in a game long enough to feel forced out of character.

Finally, Gremlin smiled let out a quiet half-chuckle.
I guess there’s an "and" misssing.

HG

Zey are abaout tou siupah azants. Richard is suepah ajent of the PPC, with hiz syupah girlfriend, ah parner, Marina, who is a great wizard, who can do tech stuff and magic stuff at ze saime taime, not laike zis wik Dressden.

Richard is aosom tou, he kill Siu wif tou souordz aned iuzing a PErusona bicoz hi got tiz issiu in hiz heat. And when he want to do really esplozif stufff, he stzealz esplossifs to shoot hiz enemiz.

And togezer zey kill all ze worzt Siu, and zey are friendz wiv oll ze ajentz in PPC. Spchially Aviator. Chiz coul.

((Cannot believe I'm writing that.))

Today,it's my Boardversary! Man it doesn't feel like it is already one year ago I joined this place.

Hope it will not be the only one...

July still did everything. I just went over it for SPaG and posted it to the Board when she asked.

Wow so many people don't even know that country exists. It was a little surprising reading that.

.........Bloodt hilarrious, keep up the gooed work

[[*Whole hearted, subconsciousness clapping*]]

A/N: kk so i no i SED i was gonig to rite TEH DAUTER OF JAYACACA THONBIRD, but i dont' wat to so iI wote tihs insatd. enjo!!1

Jaycacia Thornbyrd leant against her husband, sketching a picture of them (A/N soo she has psychick powars wihch let her sea tehm like its form the oustide). "Do you remember when we all got pregnant and then Lux said the babies were all us?" she asked.

Yes, I do, my beloved, the Sunflower Official said, turning so she could sketch his face better (A/N NO he ash't got a fase but YU KNOWAT I MEN). It was so lucky that Medical was able to take all the babies out and have them be born and grow up in the past. And wasn't it strange that your baby turned out to be HQ?

Jaycacia giggled. "That was pretty strange, but also makes sense, because PPC HQ was my other parent, you know."

"But I'm your real parent, right?" Jay simpered, looking up from their bed. (A/N i ddin't manag to wirte it in but jAy is nacked in tihs seen oky?!!)

Jaycacia giggled. "You are the best kind of parent, my love," she said. "The kind who isn't related to me and so we can have sex!"

"Yay!" Jay bounced up and down in the bed. "Do you mean right now?"

"I wish we could," Jaycacia said, getting out of the bed, "but I sense a darkness growing in the heart of HQ. I have to go and solve it - for the sake of the PPC!"

And she swept out of the room, pausing only to grab a silk robe from the back of a chair. (A/N o yea and Jaycasia was nakee too. u no how ppl used to rite sotries with toppless elfs in??? its' like taht)

The Sunflower Official and Jay stared after their love. It's amazing how dedicated she is to the PPC, the SO said.

"If it weren't for her, the PPC would have been destroyed about a million times," Jay agreed. "We are so lucky to have her."

We are, the SO agreed. We are all so very lucky to have her.

~

"... normally around this point you say something."

Jay Thorntree looked up from her book. "Hm?"

Acacia Byrd gestured at the bustling Roman marketplace around them. "You come to my city. You track me down. You act surprised to see me. And then you say it."

"Do I?" Jay considered this. "I might just feel like coming to see you."

"Jay." Acacia pulled a tray of necklaces off the top of her handcart and tugged the cover over what remained. "Just admit it. She's back."

"Ah!" Jay beamed at her friend and held out a sheet of paper. "How did you know?"

its son cute! i want more1

[[I'm just gonna sit around in this hellscape of my primaly reverted brain until my agents come around]]

A/N.: So, this is one of the ideas I had while looking up some funny music. I heard this song - HERE - and an image of the PPC sparked in my mind! You have to admit it's perfect! Don't forget to R&R - you'll get some fresh cookies!



Agent Nume (A/N.: Sorry, I'm gonna have to shorten his name - no way I'm gonna write it correctly every time) sits at one of the tables of the PPC Cafeteria. Several tables behind him there's a whole group of Agents (I'm talking The Aviator, Will GraY, Des, Dawn, Valon, whoever-else-you-want there, etc.) discussing him. Finally, when he can't hear them, Charlotte points at him:

There! Right There!
Look at that tan well-tended skin.
Look at the killer shape he's in.
Look at that slightly stubbly chin.
Oh please, he's gay, totally gay.

The Librarian looks closer at Nume, as he's next:

I'm not about to celebrate.
Every trait could indicate a totally straight expatriate.
This guy's not gay, I say, not gay.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)

That is the elephant in the room.
Well, is it relevant to assume
that a man who wears perfume
is automatically radically fey?

(WILLIAM GRAY)
But look at his coiffed and crispy locks.

(CHARLOTTE)
Look at his silk translucent socks.

(THE LIBRARIAN)
There's the eternal paradox.
Look what we're seein'

[Charlotte tilts her head.] What are we seein'?

Is he gay? [Charlotte mouths: Of course he's gay!]
Or European?

[Everyone "OOOOH"s]

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Gay or European?
It's hard to guarantee
Is he gay or European?

Everyone looks at Zeb, who only shrugs, "Well, hey, don't look at me."

(DAWN MACKENA)
You see they bring their boys up different in those charming foreign ports.
They play peculiar sports.
In shiny shirts and tiny shorts.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Gay or foreign fella?
The answer could take weeks.
They both say things like "ciao bella"
while they kiss you on both cheeks.
[Charlotte rolls her eyes] Oh please.

Gay or European?
So many shades of gray.

(WILLIAM GRAY)
Depending on the time of day, the French go either way.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Is he gay or European?
or-

The Aviator suddenly slams her hand on the desk, looking angery:
There! Right There!
Look at that condescending smirk.
Seen it on every guy at work.
That is a metro hetero jerk.
That guy's not gay, I say, no way.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
That is the elephant in the room.
Well is it relevant to presume
that a hottie in that costume
Is automatically-radically
Ironically chronically
Certainly flirtingly
Genetically medically

[As they sing, Nume is seen talking to another male agent. They seem happy and flirty]

GAY!
OFFICIALLY GAY!
OFFICIALLY GAY GAY GAY GAY
[Nume kisses a woman agent on the hand] DAMNIT!

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Gay or European?

(THE LIBRARIAN)
So stylish and relaxed.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Is he gay or European?

(THE LIBRARIAN)
I think his chest is waxed.

(DAWN MC KENA)
But they bring their boys up different there.
It's culturally diverse.
It's not a fashion curse.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
If he wears a kilt or bears a purse.
Gay or just exotic?
I still can't crack the code.

(LOLA MCCANDLES)
Yeah, his accent is hypnotic
but his shoes are pointy toed.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Huh.
Gay or European?
So many shades of gray.

(KARA JENG)
But if he turns out straight I'm free at eight on Saturday.

(CHORUS OF AGENTS)
Is he gay or European?
gay or european?
Gay or Euro-

Finally, William stands up, silencing everyone. "Wait a minute! Give me a chance to crack this guy. I have an idea I'd like to try."

He walks up to Nume, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "So, Mr. Super... This alleged affair with Ms. Luxury has been going on for...?"
"2 years." He said.
"And your first name is...?"
"Nume."
"And your boyfriend's name is...?"
"Ilraen." He suddenly goes wide-eyed and coughs loudly. "I'm sorry! I misunderstand. You say boyfriend. I thought you say best friend. Ilraen is my best friend."

From the back of the group of Agents out comes very angry Ilraen, and screams at Nume. "You bastard! You lying bastard! That's it. I no cover for you, no more! Peoples." He turns towards the group. "I have a big announcement."

This man is Gay AND European!
And neither is disgrace
You gotta stop your being
a completely closet case.
It's me, not her, he's seeing.
No matter what he say.
I swear he never ever ever swing the other way.
You are so gay.
You big parfait!
You flaming one-man cabaret.

Nume stiffens. "I'm straight!"
"You were not yesterday." Ilraen winks at him from one of his stalk eyes.

He stands on one of the table, as he and the Chorus finish!
So if I may, I'm proud to say,
He's gay!
(And European!)
He's gay!
(And European!)
He's gay!
(And European) and Gay!

Nume slams hands on the table: "Fine okay I'm gay!"

HOORAY!



A/N.: So that's it. Let me know if you like it, and if you want another song done in the same way!!!!

I totally forgot so here you go

At that point the Librarian portaled in along with Luxury because she begged him to come along

"Who are you" the entire fellowship asked in unison except for Gandlaf because he was confused and senile.

"Oh no tey cn see us" said the Librarian
"I never even got any private time with you" bald Luxury

"Want to come with us" asked Dr McNinja "And of course I can see you I'm a ninja I can see everything"

"OMG YAASSSS I always wanted to be part of the Fellowship" said the Librarian.
"Um are you sure that's a good idea?" said Lux "I mean we are supposed to kill them right"
"But it's the Lord of the Rings! Think how much we'll be able to help with our canon knowledge" replied the Librarian.

"Plus it'll be more awesome with me here" pointed out Doctor McNinja. "Come on you know you want to"

"Fiineee," wined Luxury "I guess sticking around won't hurt to much"

i meen I tihnk Boromor is an argent in Teim Pheonicks, rihgt? But I tihnk you wrote Dotcor Fizzgerald wron a bit.

Aslo tehre arent' any palivios in HQ. I sotped reading tehre.