I had oodles of fun writing The Downfall of Ms. Mary Sue; however, I had some life-altering issues during the summer of 2005 and found myself with no desire to write and no energy to do so. Thus, this fic has been discontinued after such a long absence – but not without some fun first! I would love to continue this fic, but I have much less time nowadays. I will miss writing this – it was fun, you know. Of course, I have found a liking for poetry and prose, so if you’re into that as well, I’m on Fictionpress as antigonelives.

I would like to thank all of the reviewers and my mate Sarah (see you in French tomorrow, you stupid autobus :P) for their attention, ideas, and Sue-hate. I never expected so many responses… I really am flattered. Take care and enjoy your lives, but if I find that you made the mistake of writing a Mary Sue, I will show up at your door with a pitchfork. Well, if I can afford the airfare and a prison sentence. :)

Part 5 of 5
IM ON UR INTARNETZ KILLIN UR BRAIN!£32!!3!

Unfortunately for everyone in Middle Earth and all the people reading this fanfiction, Mary Sue survived that dreadful thing called childbirth. Of course, she didn’t walk away from it completely untouched, as she had eight screaming runts, a cunt stretched to the size of Russia, and so many stretch marks that if they were separate from her body and laid out, they could circle the moon twice. Mary Sue Alquahrávëriel Maximus Destynie Droegiel Gettysburg Sakura Phoenix Turkmenistan Richardson the Eighth was alive and trying to convince herself that she liked it.

No one really knows how she was saved from the brink of death. No one really knows why anyone had actually wanted to save her… but, then again, considering that the sole purpose of this fanfic when Christie started it back in the spring of 2005 was to torture Mary Sue – and one must be alive to be tortured. In any case, Mary Sue was saved from death, and, as the months went by, she became increasingly and increasingly tortured.

It was on one such morning that Mary Sue was so Sue picked up Onomatopoeia Excretorie; it shat on her £834842842 dress from Christian Dior London, but halfway missed so that the nice corn bits landed all over her wrinkled, furry face. Mary Sue promptly put the child back in its cage, screaming in terror and trying to forget that letter from Legolina, who had proudly announced the arrival of his silicone breasts that played ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ whenever they were squeezed. Where the bleeding hell was Ioreth?! She had no clue and was beginning not to care. She could end it all tonight.

Slit my wrists! she wrote furiously into her diary, Slit my wrists and refuse to tell my tortured, bleeding self… just let me bleed all over you and only feel sorry cos my crimson rivers of pain and sorrow ruined that really scenexcore band shirt the lead singer of the band that sings “I Stab My Uselessly Beating Cardiac Function with a Rusty Letter Opener and Laugh Merrily While I Bleed to Death in le Musée d’Orsay Every Tuesday” autographed for you at that danky club in Basingstoke that mirrors the grim interior of my torn, ribbon-trimmed soul!

Mary Sue was better. She hoped – but to her inevitable failure. It is said that sometime later, she wandered onto a free-range cobra farm and what happened there is a mystery, but, four days after Mary Sue’s much celebrated disappearance, her strangled, decomposing body was found floating in a random pond in Ithilien.

The funeral was held three days later, and it surprised everyone to see that so many people decided to attend. Of course, it wasn’t like anyone was actually mourning for Mary Sue; rather, children threw rocks at the funeral bier as it passed, Legolas – well, now Legolina - was off shagging all the men he could handle at a time, and Éowyn even took a break from having her baby to run into the street and scream, “Fuck you, Mary Sue!” at the top of her lungs. Every sane person in the vicinity echoed Éowyn’s cry and cheered as the vultures pecked Mary Sue’s “amazingly turquoise orbs of compassion” out.

Simply said, it was a day of utmost joy, and it was declared a national holiday in Gondor, Ithilien, Rohan, Harad, Khand, Mordor, Rivendell, Lothlórien, the Shire… heck, all of Middle-earth. And, when Mary Sue’s folks back in good ol’ Cobham heard the news, they threw a wild party and invited everyone in Surrey, and George W. Bush proudly paid for the smashing occasion. Many people believed it was the only decent thing he had ever done. And the untamed fervour spread throughout the United Kingdom, America, and to wherever on Earth you are – break out the party favours!

Anyway, a funeral was held outside the King’s palace in Minas Tirith, and when Mary Sue’s unsightly corpse was brought in front of the King, he almost retched. But he composed himself and started, “Well, today we come here to celebrate the demise of Miss Mary Sue Alquahrávëriel Maximus Destynie Droegiel Gettysburg Sakura Phoenix Turkmenistan Richardson the Eighth…”

“Burn the demon! Burn her nasty corpse!” Celeborn shouted. “Burn the hideous witch!”

“Oh, shaddup, you! I have a speech to finish!” Aragorn shouted back. He cleared his throat and continued. “As I was saying, Lady Mary died in a rather fortunate incident caused by disease, heartbreak, and an epidemic of emo. She will not be missed, and I urge all of you, in effort to shame the name she built for herself, to come forward now and say horrible things about her.”

“She, like, ohmigawd she lyke hit on mistur frodo!”Sam wailed, beating his fists on the hard ground, whining like a telephone in heat. “It wuznt fare he wuz teh onlie 1 foaur meeee! frodo wuz all smexy in hiz reveeling cloths omg rele rele hawt omg but mari soo rooined teeeh speshul lurve we had! dis makin me kry know i hat u mary soo! Get ur greesy smugly arse 2 hell end neva come bak plzkthnx ok.”

“Aunt Mary Sue had syphilis, chlamydia, genital herpes, pubic lice and gonorrhea,” little Elboron said as his father handed him a cookie.

“Damn straight she did!” Éowyn yelled all the way from the Houses of Healing. “And I found squirrel porn stashed in her private loo!”

Christie raised her hand. “Mary Sue’s nastiness made me lose my lunch, my lord, and I do not regret writing this fanfiction at all.” Several other fanfiction writers and reviewers nodded in reply, and Sarah nodded, revving up an autobus so that she might run over Mary Sue’s corpse.

“She reminded me of Númenor,” Faramir added.

“Okay, enough with the testimonials,” Aragorn said at last, grinning like an idiot. “Let’s burn the bitch!”

“Woohoo, woohoo!” Denethor’s ghost appeared out of nowhere and zoomed around the vicinity, ten torches and one über-sharp axe in hand. He began hacking at Mary Sue’s smelly corpse, and the satisfaction on his face was genuine. “Gar! Yah! Take that, you disgusting excuse for a woman! Argh! Woohoo, I see little police officers in black-framed eyeglasses!”

“Wait for me, Daddy!” Boromir’s ghost called. He kicked and punched Mary Sue and proceeded to pull her hair out, cackling like a maniac. “How dare you offend my little brother and his family, you oversized turd sandwich!”

Boromir tossed a torch at Mary Sue, and she immediately burst into flame. Denethor, of course, found this to be amusing, and he poured several litres of lighter fluid on her to make a huge bonfire. Faramir even grinned with satisfaction and clapped his father on the shoulder, then proceeded to sing campfire songs.

“Omg teh marshiemallowz!” Sam cried, throwing several hundred bags of marshmallows into the crowd. “Letz rost teh marshmelowz cuz their all puffie end cuddly end squeezable lyk frodos boobys wuz!11!!!!!1”

“Enough about Frodo! You know you love me!” Merry whined to Sam. “I feel like Richard Gere; I’m standing next to you, the pretty woman.”

Sam slapped Merry upside the head and took a bite of his marshmallow. “U isht meen!11!1!!! Butt whoo kares letz burn teh mari soo she burnin briter then teh fyre in mi hart 4 mistur frodo11!!!!1!1!!”

When the fire had burned out and nearly everyone had gone home, all the cats in Minas Tirith thought it wise to use Mary Sue’s ashes as kitty litter. Heck, it was the only thing she had ever been useful for.

THE VERY SUELESS END.