A/N: What ho? What can this be? I shall tell thee; it is a Mary-Sue parody! Why? Because we need one. Seriously; anyone who has visited the Children of the Corn section will notice the overabundant Mary-Sues, none of whom are different from the other save for their terribly modern names, most of which wouldn’t have been used in the ‘70s, when Children of the Corn TAKES PLACE.

I’ve done a Sue parody before, and I’m hoping that this one will do well, but don’t expect any pants-wetting. I’ll go ahead and admit right now that I’m terrified of what SnuffSnuff will say (your reviews are hilarious, by the way). So, ANYHOO, please keep in mind that I’m not lampooning ANY FIC IN PARTICULAR. JUST A VAST MAJORITY. I don’t even READ CotC fanfiction anymore because most of it is so appalling. The chapters will also be as short as the Sues, because I can only write a Sue for so long.

So, without any further ado, allow me to introduce “Mary-Sue the Outlander.”

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Disclaimer: Yeah, none of it’s mine. Mary, as she will later be referred to, is practically not even mine, thanks to the overwhelming Suethors out there. NOW we move on!

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Mary-Sue-with-an-irrelevant-surname was driving along an abandoned Nebraska road, singing along to the radio.

Shawty had them Apple Bottom Jeans (Jeans)
Boots with the fur (With the fur)
The whole club was lookin at her
She hit the flo (She hit the flo)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low
Them baggy sweat pants
And the Reeboks with the straps (With the straps)
She turned around and gave that big booty a smack (Ayy)
She hit the flo (She hit the flo)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low
I ain't never seen nuthin that'll make me go,
This crazy all night spendin my dough
Had a million dollar vibe and a bottle to go
Dem birthday cakes, they stole the show
So sexual, she was flexible
Professional, drinkin X and ooo
Hold up wait a minute, do I see what I think I
Whoa

She trailed off, choosing to jam to the radio while she looked at the “breathtaking” scenery. All around her were good ol’ cornfields of the Midwest. Why was Mary-Sue-with-an-irrelevant-surname driving all alone on a lonely road in Nebraska with seemingly no intent at all?

Because she was…doing something that is not important to the plot. All we know is that she conveniently doesn’t have school and that she is driving all alone with no parental supervision of any kind. And for now, nobody really cares about anything else.

So, moving on, Mary was bobbing her head along to the music, singing in a voice that normally summoned woodland critters, when her car miraculously broke down.

“Oh, great, now I have to sit here and wait for help!” Mary sighed, leaning against her car. She was a spoiled brat, QED, she knew absolutely nothing about cars. Opening her iPhone or whatever the kids use these days, she tried dialing home. And yup, you smart readers guessed it: no signal.

Suddenly a motorcycle gang with “The Bulldogs” emblazoned on their leather jackets—who looked just as clichéd as they sounded—rode up, spotted the girl in her thin tank-top that conveniently complemented her already envious figure, and they pulled over, whistling and cat-calling and generally making lewd comments.

“Omigosh, shut up!” Mary shouted sassily, whipping her hair in slow motion as the gang advanced. “Like, stop it! I’m a black belt in karate! What now, freaks?!”

However, as soon as their leader, a chubby man with the name, “Big Earl” sewn onto the front of his shirt, had grabbed her arms, Mary fell limp.

“Please don’t hurt me! I don’t have anything worth taking except my completely expensive car and my iPhone and my virginity! Oh pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don’t hurt me!” she shrieked, batting at Big Earl halfheartedly; she had just gotten a manicure, after all, and rape or not, she would not let anything happen to them.

“Shut up and you might just enjoy it,” Big Earl sniggered, or said something to that general effect. The rest of the gang guffawed in an extremely sycophantic manner that is horribly typical of Saturday morning cartoon bad guys.

“Gosh, you perv, get off me!” Mary kicked him in the groin, but Big Earl, who was under her Sue Spell, kept up his attempts to rob the annoying girl of her “virtue.” When suddenly, lo and behold, a teenage kid with flaming red hair sliced the whole gang!

Yes, it was Malachai, lead henchman of Isaac Chromer and heartthrob extraordinaire of Gatlin. As soon as he was finished gutting the entire gang and doing other things that would make the Saw writers cringe, he sheathed his knife and turned to an already swooning Mary. He caught her just as she fainted, and he was miraculously devoid of any blood.

“Thank you for saving me,” Mary fluttered, batting her overly-mascaraed eyes.

Malachai was just about to protest, to thrust his knife through this stupid girl who weighed practically nothing and whose boobs were rubbing against him in a manner that suggested she was not swoony; but he fell under the Sue Spell, and there’s no getting out of it. Poor lad.

“What is your name, ma’am?” he asked in a voice that would make Orlando Bloom jealous.

Mary batted her eyes some more, pleased with her progress. “My name is Mary-Sue.”

“Mary-Sue? That’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard!” Malachai cried passionately. Suddenly he came to his senses. Well, sort of. “Come on, you! Isaac will want to see you.” He grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise (he’d gotten practice from previous Sues) and dragged her to Isaac.

“Ow! Let go of me! Geeze, you people are creeps! Where am I? Why are you hurting me? Who’s Isaac? What’s your name? Geeze, could you let go of me?! You’re bruising me! What if you break my arm? Why are we surrounded by corn? What are you wearing?! OMIGOSH! You got mud on my shoes!”

No, the group-gutting of Big Earl’s Bulldogs did not affect Mary in the least. Her shoes? Oh, that was a different matter entirely. But to protect the sanity of the kind readers, the authoress will not record the rest of Mary’s monologue. She will, however, inform the readers that the only reason Malachai did not kill her right then and there was because the Sue Spell was too strong. Unfortunately.

After roughly, I don’t know—ten, fifteen minutes—of pushing through the cornstalks, Malachai and Mary finally tumbled out of the fields. This, however, did not cause a pause in Mary’s rant, and she continued her tirade, not noticing as most of the Children of the Corn stopped to stare at this scantily-clad and whining girl. Their revulsion quickly changed to admiration, for they, too, were hit by the Sue Spell.

“Wait here,” Malachai ordered as soon as Mary had paused to take a breath. He motioned to Amos, who ogled Mary unashamedly, his holy-rolling eyes fixed on Mary’s well-endowed chest. “Amos, make sure she doesn’t escape. I’m going to see Isaac,” Malachai proclaimed in a dark, angst-filled voice.

Amos nodded, grabbed Mary’s upper-arm stupidly, and watched as Malachai slammed the door behind him, entering the building. Once the red-head was out of sight, Amos turned to stare stupidly at Mary. She, of course, was used to this, being a Sue and all, so she tossed a wave of blonde hair over her shoulder.

“I’m soooo not in your league, pal. You’re like those Ishmael people—“

“Amish?” Amos suggested, recovering his senses for a split second.

“Oh, yeah! Those people. Anyway, you’re like a freaking pilgrim in those clothes, and you’re butt-ugly, and you’re stupid. Plus you live in this dump,” Mary declared, not seeming to care that his eyes were once again fixed on her chest.

“Um, Malachai, who you seemed to be flirting with, dresses just like a pilgrim, too. Plus he sounds like a caveman. Plus he lives in this dump too,” Amos pointed out, inwardly admitting that he thought Malachai was somewhat attractive.

Mary’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t say that!” she shrieked dramatically. Before she could rant Amos’s poor ears off, the door swung open. Both teenagers turned to look in the doorway, where Malachai was handsomely silhouetted.

“Isaac wants to see you.”

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A/N: Ok, so this isn’t half as fun to write as the other Sue parody I did; nor is it as funny, I’ll wager. But I felt that a Mary-Sue parody was in order. I mean, seriously; have you guys even looked at the Children of the Corn section? If you haven’t, don’t. You’re not missing anything good, trust me.

So, that being said, please review! And if you don’t want to review and just alert this or favorite it, that’s equally awesome, because at least I know you’re reading and enjoying!

Cheers,

bubblymuggle