Eight, Left Bracket is a Sad Emote by tanyart

Category:Maximum Ride
Genre:Humor, Parody
Language:English
Status:In-Progress
Published:2007-10-09 13:33:59
Updated:2007-10-09 13:33:59
Packaged:2021-04-21 22:46:34
Rating:K+
Chapters:1
Words:556
Publisher:www.fanfiction.net
Summary:Fed up with reading bad summaries, the flock tries to save the MR fandom by teaching a lesson on writing teasers. Yet, things start to look grim when they are bombarded with horrific displays of bad grammar, lack of punctuation, and fourth wall narrative.

Eight, Left Bracket is a Sad Emote

AN: If you're insulted... I wonder why.

If you're still insulted, this is just a parody. Chill and have some chocolate. Mostly everything in here is horrifically exaggerated. If I went around apologizing for every "offending" sentence in here, it wouldn't be funny anymore. Aw.

Warning: The following is merely a motivational tool to inspire new writers to become more proficient in what they love to do.

Disclaimer: Characters go to James Patterson.


Chapter One: Save the Fandom, Save the World

"It would seem that you have no useful skill or talent whatsoever. Have you thought of going into teaching?"
-- (Terry Pratchett, Mort)


Max was not happy. Nor will she ever be, judging from her current lifestyle of running into countless situations where she was either being chased by enemies or emotionally hounded down by her own teammates. However, today's mini drama shockingly revealed to be none of the two. While it was a refreshing surprise, it didn't make her task of saving the world any easier.

"Iggy. Stop that. Stop it right now before you lose your spleen."

"max… saves… the… wouerld… w/ the flock how wood she it FAX FAX FAX plz review my first fic LOL YAY!," droned the automated voice laptop.

Iggy tumbled into fits of laughter until he was slightly hiccupping. He got himself under control for only a minute to reach over and tap another button… much to Max's dismay.

"hi," began the computer's fake man-voice, "this is a stroy wen max DIES?! pleez review. don't flame if u don't leik…"

This time Fang burst out laughing, though he was much quieter than Iggy.

"Not you too, Fang," Max grumbled.

"Oh no," Fang snickered, "It's just that I'm so upset that apparently, you've died."

Max turned away, through dealing with the boy's sudden spastic torrent of immaturity. She had a lot of things to think about and none of them involved playing school teacher to a bunch of aspiring writers. It was so sad. She could tell some of them had the potential to be exceptional-… great- no-… good…

"i suck at riting summarys but my storys better click 2 find out MOAR!"

decent

"wiargUYAWGR#Q!jsdhfa87asf? R AND R LULZ"

understandable, somewhat.

Max ran her hand through her hair, wondering how the heck a computer could project capitalization and graphic symbols. It shouldn't have been verbally possible.

"Colon, left parenthesis," interjected Fang helpfully.

"Guys, will you quit it?"

"Well, if it bothers you so much, why don't you do something about it?" Iggy asked innocently.

Max glanced at Iggy and thought it over. She blinked. "That sounds suspiciously like another procrastination attempt to avoid saving the world."

"Sounds about right," Iggy admitted.

"When you put it that way, I guess I could," Max said, not looking too pleased with herself.

Fang, who had been waiting for absolute confirmation, high-fived Iggy. "I'll go get the equipment."

Max scowled, but gave him a short nod, "I'll get the kids."

With that, the three older flock members separated momentarily in hopes to offer their own fandom a bit of light. After all, it was better if the world died smart than totally ignorant of the mechanics of language.


End chapter.