Evil Fan Fics

This was written by Jen in pure boredom in November, 2004. Just another additive to the grand scheme of the stories. For whatever reason, it was named Evil Fan fics.

Jen Kills All the Others

(by Jen)

Jen once again is continuing the randomness of these events. Once
again, the others have failed to comply, so in a mad fit jen decided
that they must die…but how? Jen decided that this time, sheep would
be of no use….he was too peacefull….jen must find other
allie's..yes…and she must get revenge on Murray, the one who keeps
calling her master against her will…it's just creepy that's all!
So where will this murder scene take place? Why, it starts off at
school, at track actually, where jen starts to plot the evil doings.

Jen sat by Sally and Amy on the floor. waiting for track to begin
was no fun, because they knew very well that soon enough their track
coach will try to kill them all with harsh workouts and other
tortures. They usually past this time by fighting..Jen would attack
Amy, and of course Amy would not let this pass. She'd start attacking
back..and there was soon enough a vicious battle going on. Sally
would calmly watch this battle and wait for one of them to knock the
other out. Yes, the battles were vicious….Jen lost this battle, and
in defiet decided to wander the halls, prentending to go get a drink
of water, but really plotting her evil doings. She knew that Ali, the
other story writer whom she must get revenge on, would be at Sam's
house for a sleep over that night. Sam of course, being enemies with
Murray, did not invite him this this party, so Jen wasn;t sure how
she could work him into this equation….
It helped, however, that she would have amy and ali in the same
place for the night.."yes " she thought, "this will work out
somehow.."Jen smiled evilly. "all i need to do, is to get either sam
or ali sooo mad at murray, that they'd be angry enough to runover to
his house and kill him for me…" then jen considered.."nah..no
killing in this story…just torture…" she laughed to herself while
walking back to track.
After track ended, jen and amy said goodbye to sally, who was going
to karate, and they walked over to Sam's house. There they saw sam,
ali and brak. jen and amy looked at brak. "random…" jen
thought…Amy began to flip out. "OH MY GOD!! BRAK!!" she was hsappy
and began to dance around him. Brak was confused. Jen however,
relized that this may work to her advantage…"perhaps i can get amy
enraged at murray…for killing brak?" jen pondered…"but how? ..he
won't really kill him…and they have no reason to think he did…"
jen thought that the plan would neverwork…"OH!" she cried aloud.
Everyone looked at her…"umm..i'm thirsty..drink please?" she looked
at sam who just laughed at her…jen thought darkly.."maybe i'll get
her too…" but sam gave her an apple soda, so after jen stopped
flipping out, jen decided to spare sam's life….but what jen had
been excited about, was that murray had recently goten his permit.
That means, if she can get brak to walk into the road, get hit, and
somehow convince the driver that he's still alive, and they should
just go home, ALL WITHOUT ANYONE NOTICING, then the plan should work.
jen laughed evilly. "what are you laughing about?" asked ali.
"NOTHING!!" jen screamed. "umm…ok" everyone looked at her strange.
"i just rembered that i had to go get something back at school..i'll
be right back..oh! and i saw zorak outside brak! he's saying
something about having a big bag of beans, and he won't let you have
any." Brak looked angry. "HOW DARE HE?!!" brak shouted and ran
outside. jen followed. there was a sound of scretching tires as a car
ran over brak. Zorak leaned out of the car window as he drove further
away. "the beans are all mine!" and he drove away. Jen had her mouth
open. Her luck was really good. She then ran back to sam's house
Amy screamed. she then charged out of the house, followed by sam,
ali, and jen.
Murray was sitting on his floor, playing video games. Suddenly he
heard a loud screaming noise, as Amy broke down the door, and
proceeded to knock over everything in her way. "YOU!!!" she yelled.
"huh?" murray was obviously confused. "yes" jen thought. "evrything
is working out as planned!" Even ali and sam were enraged. Jen
decided she needed to work things even more to ensure sucsess in her
plan. she must turn everyone against each other.
Jen whispered in amy's ear,"ali was planning this too. didn't you
notice how she didn't make a big deal at first over brak's death/"
Amy looked angrilly at ali. "huh?" wondered ali, but then thought amy
just wanted her to say something too murray too. Ali hucked her shoe
at murray. "ow!" he tried to defend himself. Jen decided that sam
would not be needed in the fight..they were doing a fine job as it
is…..Amy attacked murray, then jumped over and attacked ali as
well. sam was in total confusion. "WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING ALI?!!" sam
hollered over amy, murray andali's screaming and cussing. she tried
to break them up, but ali, thinking sam was amy, attacked her too.
jen, deciding that her work was done, locked the door behing her, and
went home. She first made sure that brak really was ok, and he was,
so, Jen concluded, this story has a happy ending.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

~This is a little Christmas-y fanfic; the BEST elfin' Christmas fanfic you may ever read. So cherish this moment! Love it! Embrace it! And remember to sign the petition to forbid John to EVER close down this site!!!~


Alex opened her eyes, her vision blurred from sleepiness and the fact she wasn't wearing her glasses. Through the fuzzy images, the purple-haired 21 year old could see her oldest friend standing over her. Groaning, she muttered, "Jen, what do you want?"

"YOU HAVE TO GET UP!" Jen yelled, flailing her arms about.

"What for?" Alex asked, not really caring. She turned over and settled back beneath the covers. Unsatisfied by her friend's obvious lack of panic, Jen ripped the covers from off Alex. Alex shuddered and curled up; determined to justify those events as nothing more than a twisted nightmare. Not allowing herself to be ignored, Jen threw herself onto the foot of Alex's bed and began having a temper tantrum.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" Jen tossed and turned all over Alex's Harry Potter sheets, crocodile tearing and all that other jazz. When Alex had finally had enough, she growled and sat up to face her friend.

"SHUT UP!!" She screamed. Jen stopped her antics immediately and stared at Alex like a deer in the headlights. Taking several (forced) deep breaths, Alex asked as calmly as she could (through clenched teeth): "What the hell is the matter?"

Jen paused a full minute, letting the silence sink in around them. She finally responded quietly, "…Santa Claus is coming."

Alex stared at her red-headed "bff" for several beats. "Santa Claus is coming," she repeated.

"Yup." Jen replied gravely.

Alex stared a bit more, the vein above her right eye beginning to pulsate. The next thing Jen knew, she was staring at the slammed door of Alex's bedroom, having just been forcefully evicted. Standing up, she dusted herself off and muttered, "I was just trying to be a good friend and warn her." She drew her attention back to the closed door before she called out, "You know he sees when you're sleeping! And he knows when you're awake!" She waited a few seconds for a response. When none came, she tried again. "He's a menace! He has to be stopped! He hurts reindeer! And he forces little children into eternal servitude and calls them 'elves'!" Her ranting finally gained her a reaction. Alex's door opened a crack and Jen could see one of her friend's dark brown eyes reflecting back to her. Quiet settled between the two life-long friends before Alex broke the silence.

"Can we wake John up, too?"

Jen beamed. "Sure!" She nodded her head fervently. Persuaded by that argument, Alex once again opened the door and allowed Jen entrance. A sinister smile snaked across Jen's lips as she made her way inside. Those two friends were going to stop that evil stalker Santa Claus once and for all.

(Roughly a half hour later…)

John Murray lay asleep in his bed; tucked in like a cocoon, nestled comfortably in warmth. He rolled over slightly, facing the wall. A smile crept across hi face as he slept on. He had been suspicious and even paranoid about moving in with Jen and Alex. The three of them had been friends since high school, but John didn't trust them to ever leave him alone. However, he had to admit that he had found the experience thus far to have been very rewarding. They left him alone when he requested it; they hadn't tried to tackle him for no reason when he returned home; they had never stormed in his room and jumped on his bed to wake him from his slumber.

Yes, he had been beginning to think that he had made a good decision in getting an apartment with Jen and Alex.

At least, he thought that way until one December morning when the two girls busted down his door.

"SANTA CLAUS IS COMING!" They screamed.

"GAH!" Caught off guard by that abrupt intrusion, John somehow managed to fall off his bed in surprise. Sitting up, he re-wrapped himself in his comforter and glaring at his friends/associates/roommates. Alex and Jen stood in frozen heroic poses in John's exposed doorframe. "What are you doing?" He grumbled.

"SANTA CLAUS IS COMING!" They shouted in unison. John winced as the sound attacked his ears. He felt as if he had just been boxed in the head by a kangaroo. After his ears had stopped ringing, he glanced over at the calendar. He rolled his eyes.

"It's December freakin' first. You've got another twenty-three days to wait for Santa. Now leave me alone." Picking himself (and his blankets) up from the floor, he threw himself back onto his bed.

But Jen and Alex weren't so easily misled. Abandoning their heroic demeanors, the two girls entered the room. Jen made to pull the blankets off her still-struggling-to-sleep friend, while Alex started throwing some of John's clothes around. "GET UP!!!" Jen tugged at John's ankle trying to pull him from his slumber; yet he was stubborn. Alex, meanwhile, was forming another plan of action.

"We have to get the hell outta here! C'mon, John. PACK!" Taking a pile of clothes she had gathered, she dumped them on John's head.

"Umph." came John's muffled reply.

"Stop being lazy." Jen growled, still attempting to pull him to life.

"I'm trying to sleeeep…" John whined, still refusing to leave his comfortable bed.

"Didn't you hear us? There's no time for that, man!" Jen exclaimed, bordering impatience. She managed to lift him from his place on the bed and slapped him once across the face.

"Ow!" John protested, rubbing his cheek that had begun to redden. "That hurt," he glared at his friend.

"Santa Claus is coming!" Alex shrieked once more in hysterics. Caught up in the drama and panic of the moment, she raised her arms above her head and raced from the room, through the hallway; down the stairs and into the living room. Jen and John could hear Alex's panicked screams and rapid footsteps from the second floor.

Jen turned her attention back to her second favorite person to torture. "We. Have. To. Go." She reiterated her face pulled unnecessarily close to John's. She spoke through a clenched jaw as her eyes grew wide and crazed with terrified paranoia.

"Santa Claus is a mythical creature," John started, trying to convince Jen to let him sleep. "He's just someone that mommies and daddies made up in order to trick kids into getting coal instead of presents. He doesn't exist; and never did. So how can he come here?"

Jen paused a moment, still looking at her friend with a crazed look. Finally she picked up the nearest thing she could reach (a shoe) and hit John in the side of the head. "OW!" John cried out again.

"This is no time for logic!!" Jen screamed. "This is mayhem! Chaos! Destruction! Santa-effin'-Claus is coming to town, and we need to get the fuck out!!!" In a rush of adrenaline, she tossed John against the wall. He hit the side wall with a "thunk" before landing back onto his bed. Knowing there was little chance he would be able to return to sleep; John tried to calm down his strange friend.

"Okay," he sighed, pressing his palm to his forehead and looking down at his bed sheet. He was determined to take the logical approach; despite Jen's threats and attacks. "Why do you think Santa Claus would come here?"

"Because he's coming to town!!" Jen growled.

John struggled to remain level-headed. "And why do you think he would come here? You're agnostic; and Alex and I are atheist. If he's a religious figure, why would he even bother us?"

Jen paused a second. John was almost tempted to believe he had gotten through to her and successfully stopped the mayhem that had attacked him. Finally, Jen asked cautiously: "Promise you won't be mad?"

John suppressed a groan. "I promise I won't be mad." He assured her.


"I WON'T BE MAD!" John snapped.

"Well…………I might've…just mighta…stolen his bobble-head."

John stared at the red head that had invaded his bedroom. "You stole his bobble-head?" He repeated, despite his better judgment. Jen grimaced as she nodded her head, prepared for his outrage. "Why would you even do that? More importantly, why the fuck would it even matter? He doesn't exist."

And just then (as if right on cue), there was a sound of a soft thump on their rooftop. Jen grew deadly silent as her pupils dilated. Shrinking away from the ceiling in fear, she cowered near the corner of John's bed. John looked at his friend curiously. "What's wrong with you?"

"He's…here…" she whispered, fear etched into her every pore.

"Huh?" His lack of hearing Jen's meek voice did not leave him without the answer; for there was the rapid footsteps once more from Alex as she came running up the stairs.

"HE'S HERE!" She shrieked. "SANTA CLAUS IS HERE!!" There was a loud SMACK! as Alex slipped on the top stair and landed on her face; but she quickly recovered and ran into John's room to join her friends.

"He doesn't exist." John growled, seething with irritation at his friends' naivety. "He can't bloody be here if he doesn't bloody exist!" Once again, however, John seemed to speak the words of cue. The ceiling over the corner of his room busted open, and a black leather foot fell into the room. Both Alex and Jen flew into the farthest diagonal corner and huddled together in shaking fear. They stared in awe and horror at the fat leg that had entered the room.

John, on the other hand, seemed to be just plain pissed. "Who the fuck's gonna pay for that?" He demanded. And yet the foot seemed to recruit the power of another foot, for another black leather boot fell into the open bedroom, which was then proceeded by the body of a rotund individual in a mad looking red jumpsuit with white fur sewn onto it; an outfit that would enrage the PETA support group to blow something up. The man was supposed to be a jolly individual; perhaps because he was so fat, everyone assumed he was happy. But the man standing before the three friends looked anything but jolly (although he was, indeed, fat).

"Give it back," the unwanted visitor boomed. Jen and Alex squeaked before cowering even closer to the floor. John remained the mediator; unconvinced by the antics of the so-called "Sandy Claws". With his friends, he was more likely to believe that the man before them was nothing more than some hired idiot in a fat suit off the street. All they had to do was go to Hollywood; there were plenty to pick from.

"Give what back?" John demanded, bringing the story back to its would-be plot.

"My bobble-head." The man growled. "Those idiots stole it, and I want it back!"

"They didn't steal anything." John tried to stick up for his friends.

"Oh, really?" Ol' Saint Nick seemed unconvinced. "Then how do you explain this?" Reaching into his pocket, the mascot for the Christmas season pulled out an instant Kodak picture. John had to squint (and henceforth had to grab his glasses) to see the images clearly. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. Sighing deeply, he turned his attention back to his friends.

"The picture," he reported. "Shows you two running off with Santa's bobble-head. I demand an explanation!"

"We didn't do it!" Alex cried, screaming for injustice.

"We were framed!"

"I swear we weren't there last Thursday night at eight!"

After Alex screamed the last statement, she froze in horror and gasped loudly. She threw her hands over her mouth as Jen turned, glaring at her.

John looked more pissed off than Santa.

"Last Thursday?" He repeated. "At eight?" He repeated again. "You both told me you had to go to a recital last Thursday, and that's why you couldn't listen to my binomial math presentation! I could have aced that presentation if you had let me practice it on you!"

"Well, you see…" Jen started.

"We couldn't listen to your presentation…"

"Because we weren't at the recital…"

"But we weren't stealing the bobble-head, either!"

"Right. We weren't there, either. We were…"

"In the jungle…"

"With George….of the jungle…"

"And we were helping him…"

"Train monkeys…."

"To dance…"

"For an upcoming recital…"

"That…we're all invited to!!" The two old friends smiled and nodded their heads, looking encouragingly at both their attackers. They were pretty darned proud of themselves, considering they had worked so hard together to form such a bullet proof explanation for why they hadn't been available to listen to a presentation that just would have made Alex cry.

{Binomial math is SCARY!!}

"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" John declared, fuming. Smoke even started to come out of his ears for emphasis. Santa Claus, however, seemed to be cool with the idea.

"I think that's great. I'm going to see George and his pals over the holiday season; maybe I can give him some pointers. I was in my share of plays and recitals over the years." He proudly puffed out his chest. Alex and Jen, who could recognize when someone's ego needed to be coddled, seized their chance at keeping Santa's mind off their accused crime.

"You were great." Jen piped up.

"Truly magnanimous." Alex continued.

"We were in awe." Jen finished. Alex nodded her head in agreement, throwing in little congratulatory murmurs like "Mhmm" and "yea" and "totally" and "right on" and "bodacious".

John stared in disbelief. When he had finally had enough, he turned back to Chris Cringle. "Are you gunna buy that?" He asked. "They stole your bobble-head."

"Oh, well." Santa shrugged, having forgotten why he had busted through John's ceiling. His ego had been stroked and groomed and manicured, so he had forgotten all the anger he had earlier held against the red and purple haired girls. Alex and Jen knew this, and thus stopped cowering. They rose up and sat on the corner of John's bed; all smiles and happy because they had won. "I have many more toys. I guess one little bobble-head doesn't really matter."

John was up in arms; he wanted to see some justice. "But they stole from you!" He cried, demanding a reaction from the Father of Christmas. "How can you not want to hurt them?"

Captain Fur-face got his reaction all right; but it was nothing like he had been expecting. Santa leaned closer to John and studied the mussed black haired man over his jolly spectacles. "Why are you so determined to get them in trouble?" He asked wisely, his eyebrows arching. John didn't know his intentions until his mouth took charge and spoke for him.

"Because they woke me up in terror, running into my room and screaming that you were coming; that we had to leave. I just wanted to sleep."

"So it's revenge that you want; eh, boy-o?" Santa asked

"Well…yeah." John replied, not seeing the fault in his reply. Alex and Jen stared in shock and gasped in horror at their shared friend. And to think they had tried to save his life from Santa Claus!

"Well I suppose I can give you at least that." Santa stated wisely. John sighed in relief. Finally he was going to get his revenge on the jerks that woke him in the wee hours of the morning. He smiled smugly at his friends, satisfied in St. Nick's decision.

That was until a solitary leather black boot came up from behind John's head where Murray couldn't see it, and smacked him so his head arched forward. "Ow!" John cried out; for what felt like the third1 time that night.

"Merry fucking Christmas, Scrooge." Santa sneered, glaring at John and making silly faces behind John's turned head. Alex and Jen jeered and snickered at Santa's "childish comebacks".

And then Santa turned away from the three friends. And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

But Alex and Jen swore they heard a different ending to the story that night. They swore that they heard the soft mutterings of a deranged old fruit bat named Santa Claus, who was dressed in a tacky and out-of-date outfit saying to the heavens: "I am glad I black-listed their house for Christmas this year. What a buncha freaks."

A Christmas poem

by jen

once apon a winter dreary
marched 5 souls all wet and weary
working on an ardous plot
more heroic then the Argonots,
they braved the cold, the snow and rain
because santa must be slain.

Alex, the leader of the lot,
decided this battle must be fought
after she learned of the creepy foe
who knew lots of things he shouldn't know
Like what she did that summer night
and for santa to know it just wasn't right

following along two steps behind her.
was Nichole with a stick of fire
She came of course just for the fun
and to set flames on everyone

Jen came next, thinking she had won
She came because they told her she couldn't come
'But she showed them' she proudly thought
though she could have been warm at home eating tater tots…

Sally followed, strong and brave
if things went wrong the day she's saved
(and was there to keep Jen in line
who was a trouble maker most sublime)

John came last, the grumpy moose
he came but he didn't get to choose
for Alex had a gun you see
He'd come along or she'd shoot his knee

and so the lot of hapless heroes
close in on santa with no fear-o
they catch him loading up his sleigh
'hold it right there santa, or we'll make you pay'
'it's time' said Alex 'to meet the reaper'
'no way! i'd rather eat this peeper!'
'oi!' Cried Jen completly thrown aghast
she knew that frogie from her past

'that's my cousin you bag of blubber!'
she kicked him hard but he moved like rubber
Jen fell back on to her head
the others thought 'oh geez, she's dead'

But santa ddin't eat the peeper
because just then arose the reaper
he came for Jen but Sally had a plan
"Reaper wait, you want the fat man'
The reaper turned, for Sally knew best
He poked the fat man in the chest

And so he fell with clash and clatter
and John said 'thank god he didn't splatter'
and Nichole set the sight ablaze
and Jen got up looking a bit crazed

off they dashed, our heroes, off into the night
on a rocket propelled sliegh, that of which they'd kifed

merry christmas yo.

It's a Dead Thing

(by Alex)

{necessary filler: in the course of the Supah Hero story— currently being written— Nichole is dead. Again. This story revolves around the stream of consciousness that comes when Alex discovers she wants to be dead, too.
…should I also mention this is not an emo story?}

Alex was in a conundrum: one of her best friends had (once again) been killed off in the story. But Alex was not distressed about the death itself; everyone had died one, two, twenty times since the beginning of the stories way back in eighth grade. Besides, it wasn't as if Nichole had completely gone— her body was used as decoration and attended a few tea parties since she had died. So all was not lost.

No, Alex's reaction revolved around a simple (albeit complicated) emotion: she was jealous. It had been a long time since she herself had been killed off in the story…probably not since the earlier days in high school. Nichole had been killed off a handful of times. What did she do that made her easier to kill than Alex? Why was she so much more of a dispensable character? Sure, Alex had been in the stories longer..and had written more. Did that really make her so much more important to the foundation of the story than Nichole?

These thoughts kept Alex awake at night, ping-ponging through her psyche. Even in her subconscious, she met with the deceased Nichole and demanded why she was so much more killable. She wanted answers, dammit. But it was true what they said: Dead Nicholes tell no tales.

So one day, getting fed up with all her unanswered demands, Alex decided to speak to one of her oldest and dearest friends: the last cookie left behind in the cookie jar. Yet when she sought wisdom from that very wise cookie, she found him missing. Maybe he went on vacation. Alex thought to herself, not finding the cookie crumbs on John's hands (or the new Tshirt John was wearing that said I just ate the last cookie left behind in the cookie jar, bitch) the least bit suspicious.

So Alex sought insight from Jenneth.

"Jen, how come I never get killed off in the story?" Alex asked, approaching Jen as she was making a stew that looked suspiciously similar to blood— and was that Amy's wallet? Jen was surprised by the question. Fixing Alex with a curious stare, she answered her friend's question with another question.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Alex sighed before slumping into a nearby stool next to the counter. Resting her chin on her hand, she began to explain herself. "Nichole keeps getting killed off…Casey, Will and Heather disappeared spontaneously from the previous story…am I really that much of a 3-dimensional, accessible character that I cant be killed once in a while?"

"Oh, Alex," Jen chuckled affectionately, laughing at her friend's silliness. "Of course not."

"Then why don't I ever die!?" Alex demanded.

"It's simple," John said, suddenly appearing at the door. "Witches can't die; they can only be burned." In a fluid motion and without a second thought, Alex pulled out a gun and shot John. Jen and Alex watched as dear ol' Buttons, with a shocked expression painted on his face, crumpled to the floor and lay motionless.

Smoking .38 still in her hand, Alex whipped back around to Jen. "See!?" She shrieked. "Even John can die!"

"Alex," Jen said soothingly as she stirred her stew so it wouldn't burn. "Why do you want to die so badly?"

"I don't!" Alex insisted. "I just wanna know what makes everyone else so special that THEY can die, but I can't!"

Jen took a few moments' pause to stare in silence at one of her oldest friends. "Well…who else would write in the story with me?"

Alex stared back. "That's the reason I can't die?"

"Did you want a better one?"

Alex groaned. "Frankly, yes!" Jen shrugged noncommittally.

"Sorry, kid. But if you die, you could use that as an excuse not to write in the story; and then where would I be?"

"That's the only reason I'm being kept alive?"

Jen frowned. "Why does that bother you so much?"

"Because that's a stupid reason to prolong someone's life!" Alex exclaimed. "And it also means I'm not special enough to die!"

"But you're important to the story."


Jen sighed heavily and rubbed her right temple in a clockwise motion. "Fine. You want to die?"

"Yes! I want to die and be special!"

"FINE!" Out of nowhere, Jen pulled out a crossbow and shot Alex. The arrow went straight through her heart, killing her instantly. "Finally," Jen grumbled. "I can get some peace!" At that moment, the egg timer she had been using went off. A smile swept across her face as she switched off the burner. "Yay! My stew's done!" She began to portion her meal into several bowls before placing them on an old fashioned serving tray. She carefully balanced them into the adjoining room— the dining room. There, sat at the luxurious oak table were Mr. Boggs, Mr. Stash, Ms. Morgan, Mr. Lindstedt, and Mr. Bartasius.

"My, this looks excellent, Jen." Ms. Morgan complimented.

"Indeed," Mr. Stash nodded his head, raising his soup spoon in preparation to eat.

"But where is Amy?" Mr. Lindstedt asked as he took his first bite of stew. Jen grinned maliciously at the stew placed in front of her guests. Her action was missed by all others present.

"I have a feeling she'll be with us shortly."


Alex blinked several times. It took her several minutes to realize where she was. It looked like a rec room. Foosball and pool tables, board games and puzzles piled high; Ping-Pong, and Frogger and some alien/battleship old school video game. Heather, Will, Casey, Nichole, John, Chicken Nugget in a Trench Coat…they were all there.

"Where am I?" Alex asked, dazed. Nichole and John had been playing Guess Who? in the corner. Buttons suddenly looked up and saw Alex.

"ALI!" He jumped up and rushed over to immediately start poking her in a repetitively on her forehead (a time old Chinese torture technique that he had used for years, trying to slowly kill Alex). He was smirking like a boy on Christmas who realized he had just gotten the best toy in the world.

"Where am I?" Alex asked again, this time seeking guidance from John.

"Welcome to Purgatory, witch." John replied with glee, continuing to poke and torment Alex.


(A Short fanfic by Alex)

"We need money for books." Sally said.

"We need money for bills." John said.

"We need money for music." Jen said

"We need money for art." Amy said

"We need money for CDs." Darcy said.

"We need money for the internet." Alex said.

And thus, they all took a break and sat around, thinking of a way to make money.

"Rob a bank."

"Nah, too easy. Everyone does that."

"Be pirates?"

"That'd be fun!"

"Yeah, but dying isn't cool."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jen asked, gesturing over to Nichole. She had been positioned in a chair in the corner of the room. You know: decoration. "Killing is loads of fun."

"Not killing," Sally corrected. "Getting killed."

"..oh." Jen said, not really getting the difference.

"So what else could we do to get money?" Amy asked.

"Sell stuff?" Alex suggested. John stared at her blankly.

"For the last time," he said calmly. "No one wants you to be a whore. You wouldn't make enough money." Alex hit him. Although it wasn't clear if she did so because of the assumption she meant to sell herself as a whore, or because she wouldn't make enough money doing it.

"How about we become hobos?" Jen suggested.

Amy shook her head. "Too much small change."

So they all thought…and thought. And had some cake. Then thought some more.

"Who makes lots of money?" Darcy thought aloud. Each of them answered the question; but their answers were all different.

"Rock stars." Alex said.

"Athletes." Sally said.

"Thieves." Amy said.

"CEOs." John said.

"Doctors." Darcy said.

"Magicians." Jen said.

Yet since they all spoke at the same time, the answer inevitably came out as: "Roathiceodocticians."

They all paused and stared at each other before unanimously repeating: "Roathiceodocticians?"

"What's that?" Sally asked.

"Sounds kinky." Darcy said.

"Sounds complicated." Amy muttered.

"Well, whatever it is, they make a lot of money." Jen said. "So we have to become Roathiceodocticians."

The Fiendish One.

(by Jenneth; Posted by Alex)

Behold! It is the dreaded Alex! A ferocious creature that roams the land in the dark of night, searching for souls to devour and destruction to cause!

Watch, as she finds a helpless tomato on the side of the road!


Splattered without a chance of self defense!

Now she comes across a hapless ranting Swede, warning all who pass about the dangers of toothpaste while he wears nothing but his birthday suit and a giant billboard!

Alex ferociously attacks his statements with fierce critisism and he is reduced to dust without a change for rebutal


Alex, however, is not yet satisfied in her attacks and needs more destruction and mayhem!

She gets an apple and marches into the nearest church where a service is going on, and throws the apple straight up into the air

It flies up and then lands again and Alex says, "Behold! Science!"

And with a shriek and gasp the church-goers shrivel up into prunes (since prunes are really just people who have discovered they've been wrong their whole lives and the answer to everything was right in front of them
the whole time, they shrivel into prunes and that's pretty much the last of them)

Alex stomps off triumphantly into the night

(and by the by, the reason old people like pruines so much is beacuse they're bitter folks who enjoy the taste of someone else's defeat in life)

But her work is not yet done

There is still much left for her to do



Now i'm going to play word association with myself





Space station




Ghost of Christmas Past

Shadow Proclamation

Darth Vader's master (wazziz face)

Something something something dark..side…

Something something something ..complete..

Family Guy

Giant Chicken

Veloca raptor


Sponge Bob

Jelly fish



Silently stalking in the night, waiting to attack helpless children while they sleep

She'll give them candy and then take it away

There is no stoping this fiend!

And with all of the candy she'll build her own Candy Mountain

And hire someone named Charlie to work for her

Just so she can say his name all of the time

Charlie will either quit, commit suicide, or have an operation to become deaf.

His sanity will not be able to be repaired, and Alex will steal his kidney, as was her plan the whole time

Then with Charlie out of the picture, Alex will transform herself into a unicorn via her limitless powers that she kidnapped from Sally

(yes, powers can be kidnapped)

She will find all of the Charlies of the world, and then steal their kidneys

She will put them in a jar

And send them off to space

To confuse aliens who have never seen humans before

These aliens will now think that all humans look like kidneys

They will then be surprised and unprepared when they finally do discover Earth and see that humans are not kidney shaped

They'll have to redo all of the "We Come in Peace" T-shirts they had brought with them to be larger and include arm and head holes.

The T-shirt designers will not be impressed

And it will all be the work of Duckula!!!

*dun dun duuuuuunnnn!*

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