Note that I hate Mary Sue’s with a passion. This is not a Mary Sue. It’s a parody.
Fingers danced over a keyboard. Then the mouse arrow rolled over to the small picture of a floppy disk.
“One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster…” a voice from the speakers smirked, accompanied with an entire orchestra.
“…the bars are temples but the pearls ain’t free…”
Now for the red square with the lil’ X in.
“…you’ll find a god in every golden cloister…”
And the blue e. Here we go.
A pretty much entirely white screen – apart from the blinking advertisement square, the blue link text and the orange and brown Review buttons, and add the black text while we’re at it – appeared a few clicks later.
“…and if you’re lucky then the god’s a she…”
A pair of eyebrows rose as the eyes below moved over the new texts in the light-purple boxes.
“… I can feel an angel sliding up to me…”
“Janus!” a female voice shouted.
“Yes?” three voices shouted back, each one on a third-grade rating of irritation.
“One town is very like another…”
Well, down to one at least. The most irritated one. Lovely. And meanwhile the song moved on.
“Get Molor down here!”
There was a pause.
“Whaddya mean? You’ve seen one crowded, polluted, stinking town…”
“What?” the warlock finally called.
“Just give me a few seconds…” the woman yelled and stood up from the chair, turned around and then leaped onto the piece of furniture to stand instead of sit on it.
Well, that felt somewhat more secure. Psychologically.
“Are you done yet?” a smirking voice said from behind her, just as she was about to announce that she was ready.
The woman jumped with a small shriek, whipping around with a black pencil in a tight fist. By miracle she managed to regain balance.
“What, no attempts to strike me from behind today?” she dryly asked.
“One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble…”
“Not when you’re ready for it,” he said with a faint snicker, “I’m still working on the next attempt.”
“Oh, lovely. Nothing like another death-threat to make you feel good in the mornings. Anyway…”
She glanced around a little.
“Where is he?”
“… I can feel the devil walking next to me…”
“He’s been under the table all the time,” Janus informed.
The nearest and most convenient lamp gained sudden weight, creaking dangerously.
“You know I hate it when you do that!” she screeched.
“Why else would I do it?” he mildly commented and sat down on the chair while the giant snake slithered out of hiding, “besides, I thought you would have noticed since not even half of him fits there.”
The woman’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but lacked a good retort.
“Fine, fine,” she grunted and pointed at the screen, “I just wanted you to check that.”
For the first time the warlock threw a glance at the computer. A second later the chair crashed into the wall and the gloved fingers were forming a panicked symbol against evil forces. Molor took a look and then dived back under the table – well, his head and most of the… eh… neck did – again.
“You know I hate that!” Janus coughed.
“Yes, why else would I do it?” the woman smirked, winking with one eye.
“… this will show the traitor no-one rats with profit…” another voice sung, unaware of the silly scene it was performing for, “oh, we’re gonna smash that bastard!”
“You can’t force me to read those lemons again, they dropped the NC-17 rating!” the warlock growled, a wild sparkle of pure horror in his eyes, “besides, I didn’t try to feed you to Molor while you slept… again.”
“Yet?” she dryly commented.
He ignored it and tried to get a grip of himself.
“Well then, why did you call for us, anyway?” he said instead of retorting.
Once more the woman gestured at the computer, keeping the cable going between the roof and lamp in her other hand.
“Need to clear something out,” she said, “if you’d dare to read the reviews, mind you, you’d see that people seem to misunderstand stuff. Molor, get out here.”
The last was spoken with a shudder.
Hissing in a questioning tone the snake resurfaced.
“You weren’t clear enough in chapter six, we’ll have to fix that,” the woman informed.
The forked tongue danced angrily and Molor grimaced as he twisted his throat around.
“I could not think of anything better!” he protested.
“Well, seems it didn’t help.”
“I’m not doing that scene again, it was just silly.”
The woman rolled her eyes and nodded.
“I know you didn’t like it but Dalton and the others can’t explain that in the explanations chapter, we’ll have to redo that chapter or think of something else.”
“You mean you think?” Janus sarcastically commented, “what’s wrong with it anyhow?”
The lampdweller shook her head.
“People misunderstood,” she said, “they think Molor said he was your father.”
“What?!” the two dark Ones shouted and glared at the screen.
Seconds later a hand and tip of a tail hit a forehead each.
“Am I that confusing?” the snake sighed.
“And what I’m feeling now has no easy explanation, reason plays no part…” the next singer announced as the CD kept playing.
“Guess we overdid the mystery talk,” the woman nodded, “so, how will we get that cleared out?”
“You could just write an author’s note, you know,” Janus snapped, “it’s your fault for cutting down on the explanations.”
“He was the one who didn’t want to talk about it!”
“And I still don’t!” Molor snapped.
“Okay, I understand,” the woman said.
“Now that was a first,” Janus coldly muttered.
“Can it, warlock.”
“…heaven help my heart…”
“Watch it, you don’t see me pairing you and Frog, now do you?” she evilly commented.
Shuddering in disgust the warlock turned his back at the author.
Molor glared at the screen again.
“Alright, I get the point,” he said and shook his head, “we can’t have the readers misunderstand that, so why don’t you just write an author’s note like Janus said?”
“Those author’s notes are getting on my nerves, I wish I could make you guys explain things better in the story so I didn’t have to write them.”
“Not our fault,” Janus growled.
“Well you keep altering the basic outlines.”
Molor slammed his tail into the floor to mark that he wanted to get things over with.
“Well, then what?” he demanded, “are we doing the scene again?”
“That might be good, but I don’t know how you could explain things any further without saying it straight out,” the woman sighed, scratching her thick brown hair.
“Whatever, you better think of something. I’m not going to speak out that he’s my son just like that, anyway.”
The woman thoughtfully rubbed her cheek.
“Well, I can’t bring him back in and have him say it since you banished him back to your home dimension in Another Life,” she said, “and if I don’t want to write an author’s note… I don’t know…”
By now the track on the CD had changed again.
“Your personal life’s the lead on the news! How do we ignore that?”
“Okay, okay,” she finally said, “I’ll think of something. Just slither away so I can concentrate. I’ll try to think of something better than rewriting the chapter, promise.”
Glares were exchanged. Finally Janus nodded.
“Against better knowledge we’ll leave you alone with that devil’s toy,” he said and waved at the computer with a disgusted look flashing over his face, “come on, Molor. We better let the little maiden in distress save herself.”
Snickering slightly the two left.
The woman waited until she was sure they had left and weren’t planning any traps again. Then she let go of the lamp and clumsily landed on the floor, muttering to herself as she dragged the chair back to the computer to sit. Leaning her cheek in a hand she let her eyes run over the letters again.
“Hm, yeah… Pawn followed too easily maybe, I though so too…” she muttered to herself, “well, as for now… hmm… Molor, Molor, son… hmm…”
Her short nails drummed against the table as she grumbled. And the track had once again changed.
“… But it took time to understand the man… now at least, I know I know him well…”
Glaring at the media player she hit stop and reached out to change the CDs. “Chess in Concert CD2” was exchanged for “Chess in Concert CD1”. She suspiciously threw a glance under the table before she went back to thinking.
“Molor, father, son… no telling… father, son… no author’s note… Molor, Charash… hmm… no author’s note?”
A huge grin overtook her features and she quickly closed down the internet window, opening up a well-used file on the desktop. Once again the word document simply labeled “Prince” received a double-click and opened.
Once again the sound of a keyboard being used to the limit of its powers was heard.
“Note that I hate Mary Sue’s with a passion. This is not a Mary Sue. It’s a parody.”
Ah yes, that music playing was as I mentioned Chess in Concert, a record of the musical being performed with only the songs and no acting. I’m a musical nut.
Site being parodied: www.fanfiction.net. No offense meant, anyone! My views aren't necessarily the same as the characters'.
Reason of Janus' and Molor's horror: You don't want to know. Trust me. But if you absolutely must have an indication, the summaries saying "Magus/Flea pairing" should be a good clue.
... No, I don't read those. O_O;;