Whilst waiting for Huinesoron to update with the battle, I'm afraid my imagination ran away with me. This is the result

Disclaimer - ISPCE is being used with the kind permission of Huinesoron, Liliac with the permission of herself, Elizabeth is mine and I can therefore submit her to anything I wish (mwahahahah!). The concept of the Training Academy of Mary Sues is mine as far as I am aware, but if you already have had this idea tell me and I'll change this story.

Diary of an Undercover Sue

Chapter 1 - The Cost of Careless Talk

Piece of free advice, direct from me to you. NEVER ever compare your boss's hair to a rodent, no matter how innocently! It leads to misery and humiliation and in my case, being stuck on some faux marble doorstep listening to a doorbell that sounds remarkably like a cheesy pop song whilst wearing a dress 5 sizes smaller that I naturally am and lower cut than I would ever consider! And don't even get me started with the hair!!! I don't even look like me anymore! And . . . I've just realised you have no idea what I normally look like, because I haven't introduced myself. It's the stress. THIS was definitely NOT in the job description!


My name is Elizabeth Cottis, but everyone I know calls me Lizzie. I work for ISPCE, in the Theories Department. It's new, it's relatively unheard of, and it's the perfect job! All I have to do all day is think of dangers to elves, theorise on how to stop them, and write it all up in a nice double typed duplicate report, one of which gets sent to research and the other gets filed away. The next day I start all over again. Perfect excuse to spend my day daydreaming and I get paid for it!

So anyway, this story starts with a report I wrote. I was studying the problem of Mary Sues, and all of the research examining the trends. Now, even allowing for the fact that Mary Sues are normally written by adolescent hormone driven teenage girls, the types of Mary Sues, their behaviour and the like, were all remarkably uniform. Now, I'm sitting here staring at the walls (lovely marble effect, swirls and streaks, really unlocks your mind) when a sudden thought struck me. What if Mary Sues, instead of being individually created each time a fanfic was written, were being held somewhere in reserve, trained for the day when they could take the role of the "heroine" in one of the many atrocities posted across the web? Now, I know it's controversial and it goes against all the accepted theories, but it presented me with a very easy report to write. Solution, find this holding base, infiltrate and destroy. No more Mary Sues! So I typed the theory up, photocopied it, sent one off to research, filed the other, and forgot about it.

A couple of weeks later, I'm in my office, wrestling with the idea of how to protect elves from mythical creatures without harming the beastie, when I get a knock on my door. It's Liliac. My heart stops. Liliac doesn't like me. This goes back to the time when I was talking with a new trainee about a pet guinea pig I had, called Scruffy, and I was trying to describe its fur. I was just saying it was a chocolate and caramel colour, just like Liliac's hair, when the boss herself walks in. "What's just like my hair?" She asks. "Her old guinea pig, Scruffy" pipes up this trainee. Well, you can imagine! I tried to explain it was all a mistake, but I was a marked woman. Mess with the hair and you might as well jump under the nearest bus. It would certainly be less painful.

But I'm getting off the point. Liliac's standing in my doorway, smiling at me. Not a good sign. The only good thing I can see is she's in her Head of assignments robe, not her MEAPS. This means I don't have pet clean up duty. "A moment of your time, Lizzie?" she asks. I nod, and she comes into the office and sits down. "It's about this report, on some sort of Sue reserve" she starts, and I actually start to relax. 'It's ok, it's all about work, and I'm safe' I think. Idiot! "Research were really interested in your idea, and they've been scanning all the fan fiction linked dimensions for high concentrations of Sues." She continues. "Well, they've found somewhere. From the reports they've got back, it's some sort of training academy, filled with fangirls who want to go to Middle Earth. Varda only knows how they've managed to get away with this so long! But it's there, and something needs to be done about it!" Her grin widens, and I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. All is not good.

"Well, how can I help you? All of my suggestions were in the report" my mind races, trying to think of what it could be that she has planned for me. "Well, as you said, we need someone to infiltrate this academy." She stares at me. I stare back. Then I realise what she's thinking.

"You cannot be serious!" I shriek, jumping up from my chair. Then, realising that I don't want to upset Liliac if I want to remain untoasted (With Smaug and the Balrog as her new pets, it's a very likely scenario), I add "ma'am, I'm honoured you'd consider me, but there's no way I'm suited for this mission." I do have a point. I'm the furthest thing from a Mary Sue you can imagine. I'm short, I'm definitely on the plump side, and my hair is short, spiky and mousy brown. Plus I wear glasses. And I can't sing. But Liliac takes all this in with a wave of her hand. "No problem. Tech has developed a Sueifier. You'll be perfect for the job. I insist" She adds as I open my mouth to argue "As head of assignments."

Well, I'm beaten. I can't argue with her. So, like a girl condemned, I follow her down the corridors to Tech. I step inside the machine, and sit down. Lights start to flash, parts start to whir, and my head starts to spin. Then, the door opens, and the Tech assistant holds up a mirror. I literally scream! I make Barbie look realistic! I have a pencil thin waste, massively MASSIVE breasts and ankle length flowing blonde hair, which is pretty impressive considering my legs have almost doubled in length. I swear I can hear Liliac sniggering in the background. "I think we should tone it down a little. She's meant to be a fangirl first of all, so she wouldn't be that . . . beautiful" she stresses the word. "And we don't want them to send her on a mission now do we?" So I'm shut in the awful machine again. This time when it's finished I'm slightly less Barbie-fied. My hair is only shoulder length, but now it's burgundy. My waist is still tiny, but not as ridiculously so. The breasts are smaller, thank god, and the legs are slightly less impossible. Liliac looks me up and down. "Perfect!" she grins.


And that is how I come to be standing here in front of the Training Academy of Mary Sues, bag in hand. My mission, whether I choose to accept it or not, is to infiltrate and destroy this ghastly place. And, as Liliac put it 'Without breaking my new nails!' Why me?

(A/N) Firstly, an apology to Liliac. The hair is beautiful, I truly do love the hair, but I needed a reason for you to have a grudge against Lizzie, and it worked.

To everyone else, what do you think? Worth continuing? Can you face the workings of the inner mind of Mary Sues? Review and let me know!