This wee fic is the result of pudding early in the morning.. indeed. Let me tell you why quickly, as it might be of some help...

My cat woke me up at about 5 in the morning, 2 hours before I normally get up, 2 hours 10 minutes from the time I have to be/am normally ready for school. He was scratching around in this corner of my room, and I thought he was pooping or something.. trying to hide it... So I got up, and found no said poop.

It was five in the morning, I was tired, my cat didn't poop, what else was I going to do, than the practical thing, and stumble into the kitchen for a pudding pack?

Well....nuthin. I got my pudding and ate it too.

Then I booted up the comp, even though I should have been studying for the test I have today, but anyway, I started writing.

....and I got this thing, please read and review!

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~Are you my Accent?~ __(spin off of that one kiddy book I can't remember..)__

By: Scrawler

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One morning little Remy fell out of his bed. He, as a good little lad, prepped and readied for school. He attended the "Future Thieves of Two Minutes Ago Cus Hey I Got Your Wallet, Neener Neener. Neener! -With Kick Ass Accent's, That Aren't So (So) Often. 0.o Normally Their There For Good Status And Character But Still Qualify As Bad Ass,- Magnet School"

Where else?

Before he was about to break out in song, as he did every morning because his family hated it and he was at /that stage/ where he comprehended things that only made others react.... and trust me, the most reaction was out of, "SHUT UP REMY I'M TRYING TO SLEEP YOU FART HEAD!" from everyone was the best for him. Mmhm.

The first word to Remy's show tone he'd sing, was, "This" and a millisecond before he shouted it out, he felt a tiny absence in his throat.

"Th-"

He stopped. And screamed in horror.

REMY HAD SAID, "TH" AND NOT "DI" HOLY MUDDER OF GAWD- WHERE WAS REMY'S ACCENT?!

Remy would never be successful in life without that accent! He'd flunk out of school, he'd just be a stooopid NORMAL kid pick pocketing! He wouldn't be bad ass!

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

Remy sniffled, which was something really adorable for his age. All together now; "awwwwwwwww"

Remy decided he NEEDED his accent, and it must have lost itself. He'd have to go find it.

Climbing out a window, because a good little thief never used a door (Remy didn't even know why his family had one), Remy began his journey about his New Orleans 'neighborhood' in search of his lost accent.

Remy walked hunched down the streets, wanting desperately to call out for his accent, but knowing (too ashamed) that his accent wouldn't recognize him anyway.

What did Remy's accent look like, you wonder? What do all accents look like? Remy knew his personally (they were best friends) so he knew exactly what he was looking for. It's a good thing YOU weren't looking, because you'd never know it if you found it anyway! Ha!

He walked down some streets until he found An accent dressed in a long white beard and ruddy purple robes for crying out loud! Remy wondered if this was his accent in disguise.

"Are you my accent?" Remy squeaked- oh, such a shame he spoke with perfect English. It was horrible.

The purple cloak wearing accent only twinkled its eyes, and said, "...profound words....Harry....it is only I who speak them...." And then some other thief at Remy's school came up, and took the accents wallet without the accent knowing. Remy gave him the secret thumbs up sign, and walked off.

Upon finding yet another lost accent, Remy asked the same question as before; "Are YOU my accent?"

The accent before him was wearing a green turtle neck, penny loafers, a scarf, and a monocle. Remy secretly hoped this wasn't his accent.

"o'l whutte? Boyo, aye ya donta be knowi' i'ma yurs, ya ok, laddy? Arr?"

Remy had paled, and hurried off. No accent of HIS in their right mind would wear penny loafers. That's what scared him.

The rest of the day, Remy searched for his lost accent.

Only finding accents like,

"YO! YO! YO MAMMA!"

"I can be thinkingk, I can not be being your accent, da."

"nrrrrrrrrghhhh....wickie wickie wickie wa-who...."

"ehoy mate! Wha! Looky here! Ain't she a beauty?!"

and "no sirrrre pa! I'mapum-a-tuckker-ou't, meehay!"

Remy began to wonder if he even HAD an accent at all- was it the recyclable kind? Ones you don't really need, nor have? No! Remy told himself, you have an accent, a Bad-Ass one at that!

But things were, looking down for our young Thief-ling.

Remy decided to wind down at a local bar.

"Orange juice, pulp free." He said. The Bartender eyed him, wondering if he was sure of age, and if Remy was ready for such a hard drink of men!

"NOW!" Remy persisted, and the bartender brought it reluctantly.

"With a bendy straw" Remy said with a cold glare. The bartender was close to tears- he was so afraid!

This strong little stranger...but...ah! no accent! The bartender smirked. He wasn't so tough. He brought young Remy a straw, but, was it bendy? HELL NO! '

Remy scowled, but knowing without his accent there was nothing he could do.

Spinning around his in bar chair aimlessly, drink in hand, Remy stopped with a jolt.

There was an accent sitting amongst many New Orleans women- drinking an Orange Juice- no pulp!

Remy all but jumped for joy!- but, he had to be certain of his find.

"Are you my accent?" he asked, hopeful.

The Accent gave him a look over and -WEEEEE MAGIC!!! Happened.

Leafs blew, bunnies talked, pencils sharpened, it was all very magical in new Orleans.

"Remy be havin' his accent, still care for a little thief luvin, chere's?" he asked with a smirk.

And the whole world swooned.

THE HAPPY END

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A/N: umm, yeah! Well, do review! Thanks!

Scrawler