The Thirteenth Mary Sue - Super-Meta Ending
by The Plaid Adder
[Read The Plaid Adder's author bio]
"Great steaming balls of poodoo," Maul exclaimed.
The door swung shut behind him.
He was looking at a tall woman, with long dark hair, who was wearing...who was wearing...a "Sith Lords Kick Ass" T-shirt.
"Hi," said the woman. "You're Mary Sue."
Maul stared at her, and stammered out, "You're HOT."
Her face didn't change, although he thought he saw the pallor tinge with a slight blush. But a second later he wasn't looking at her any more. He was looking at himself. Or rather, images of his own face, apparently plastered all over the room.
He was on a coffee mug. He was on the mousepad by her computer. He was on the back of her can of Pepsi. He was on an apron that was hanging off a hook in the kitchenette, above the words "Kiss the Cook's Ass." He was in about 50 different pictures that were crumpled up in a heap near the scanner. He was standing on a shelf above her computer, about six inches tall, and apparently in the middle of delivering a very special package to a six-inch-tall Obi-Wan, whose expression of ecstasy was rather static and stiff-jointed but nonetheless genuine.
"You're not supposed to be here!" she snapped. "You get back into your own apartment and start boinking Obi-Wan right this minute or--dammit." Her computer monitor sang a tiny little tune. She sat down and started checking her mail.
"AAARGH!" she shouted, after Maul had watched for several moments in awed silence. "MY HATRED IS COMPLETE!"
Maul's heart leapt. She sounded, somehow, as if she understood what it felt like to have your hatred reach completion, only to discover again and again that there was always some fresh hell to come that would hone it ever more sharply.
Maul watched from the doorway as she began typing her response. He couldn't read it all because her body was in the way, but he could make out a few words: "...egregious fucking up of Obi-Wan's backstory...Life Lessons XLVIII clearly states that Ben-Wa has *two* supernumerary nipples, not three...plot hole that could swallow the Death Star...Sith do not drink Earl Grey, hot *or* cold...finally, I would please request that in future you not only spell-check your work before you submit it, but show it to someone who unlike you still has multiple active brain cells."
She sighed, and hit the delete button. The message disappeared. Maul let out an involuntary cry of dismay.
"Why did you delete it?" he wailed, as she looked up at him inquisitively. "It was beautiful!"
She shook her head sadly. "They try so hard," she said, with a little snuffle. "It's not their fault they can't write for shit. Is it not cruel to crush their artistic ambitions? Am I not infringing on their freedom of speech by criticizing their creative efforts? No," she said, turning back to the computer, "no, little story, I will not cut your life short so cruelly." Still sniffling with compassion and tenderness, she pulled up a page on which was a long list of titles with Darth Maul's name in them. At the bottom, right "No Accounting for Taste," she was adding a new one. Its title was, "Darth Maul Finds Out that Mary Sue Is Really Cool."
"NoooOOOOOOoooo!" Maul found himself grabbing her by the shoulders in his desperation. "Crush! Cut short! Kill it now!" The woman shook her head, as if she was tempted but fighting it.
"But who am I," the woman said sadly, "to impose my artistic standards on others?"
"IMPOSE!!!" Maul begged, dropping to his knees by her computer. "IMPOSE, IMPOSE, for Force's sake IMPOSE!"
"You think I should?" she said, looking critically at the screen. "I mean, it is by the same author who wrote 'Darth Maul Takes Mary Susie To See the Backstreet Boys,' and that was putrescence you could compost with."
Maul knew something was not right. He had pondered, in his lonely hours of hatred and rage, who or what it was that was ruling his universe. He was willing to attribute to this power many qualities that he could admire and even respect. But pity had never seemed to him to be one of them. The woman dabbed at her eyes with a kleenex, and then blew her nose in it. Suddenly, Maul had a brain flash. "You must not accept this," Maul said.
The woman snuffled. "I know...it's horrible...but the Kindly Senator from Naboo said..."
"AAARGH!" Maul shouted, his rage and hatred ringing out in vindication.
The woman blinked at the computer screen, and suddenly everything about her changed. "HA!" she shouted, viciously hitting the keys on her keyboard. "Whammy ME, will you, you sadistic little bastard? I'll show you a whammy!" Her hands sped furiously across the keyboard. She turned back to him. "So, Sidious will be forgetting to bring his lube on his next vacation to the Planet of the Well-Hung Bikers," she said. "And now, scram."
"But the Mary Sues," Maul stammered. "They're...they're still here."
The woman looked at him, and an evil smile came to her face.
"You really want them gone?" she said.
Maul nodded, his whole body quivering with eagerness.
"What's it worth to you?"
Maul looked her right in the eye, and said, "My ass, if necessary."
The woman smirked.
"It's going to cost you," she said. "All that and more." She picked up a pair of gold lame spandex bikini briefs.
"Get in there and get these on," she said, tossing them at him. "Come back wearing these and nothing else. And Maul?" He turned to look over his shoulder at her. "No fudging. I want to see you outlined in SHARP RELIEF, you got that?"
"Yes, my mistress," he murmured, on his way to the closet. "Sharp relief."
Siubhan, watching him go, smiled very quietly.
(Want to try again? If you want Mary Sue to be a CANON character, click here. If you want Mary Sue to be a NON-CANON character, click here.)
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