A/N: Edited Version. Taking a break from world domination long enough to grab a cookie. Also just because I was bored.

A/N addendum: Slight warning for my potty-mouthed plotbunny and gruesomeness (blood and a hula dancing Beast Boy). Still a slave to my supplier of chocolate and allowance, though it's been revised to supplier of mosquito repellent and ice cream (still chocolate, of course).

Dedicated to all my nice reviewers, Raven A. Star and chicken butt (I CHOOSE YOU! Not pokemon!) in particular, thanks for your great comments. Dedicated also to "die mosquitoes die associations." Thanks for the bugs spray, luvalot.

Aquafish: Victor Stone is Cyborg's real name. Troika means group of three so it's a convenient substitute for HIVE, Tim Drake was one of the many Robins, and Kory is Starfire's adopted name. Her alien name was Koriandr, hence Kory Anders.

Later, our escapades find our beloved heroine foaming at the mouth, temple vein throbbing, and having some sort of epileptic fit. What in the name of dirty diapers has happened? Massaging her temples, Raven stood in horrified shock. Whatever possessed those insolent brats to destroy her room?

Teletubies.

Barney.

Big Bird.

All fellow conspirators, who betrayed, schemed with four conniving little brats to do this!

Oh the horror, she should have let Dr. Light blind her when he had the chance. Anything but witness the annihilation of her dark abyss of a room and its gloomy shadows! Stupid booger faced, snot caked babies (and why did she sound like Gizmo?)! They desecrated, defiled, pilfered and worst of all--Raven was greeted by tiny B.B hula dancing in her bra, in her room--playeddress up.

With an extremely sour expression, she surveyed the damage.

Dancing yellow-feathered menaces, cookie crumb hogging vermin and nauseous messes of red fur pranced on her new bedspread. Suddenly, she remembered why she hated Big Bird and his associates (Cookie Monster and Elmo). THEY ATTACKED HER ROOM!

"God damn Sesame Street," she thought vehemently. "God damn age-shrinking rays and perverted, cross-dressing toddlers!" Strands of black emerged, dragging Teletubie toys to the chasms of oblivion. And then, among the horrid, odious Sesame Street bedspreads, tickle-me-Elmo dolls, and the resident hula-dancing pervert, she spotted it.

A singing Barney clock radio.

"Great." She croaked grimly, "Just what I need."

"I love you," The purple and green dinosaur that she abhorred sang, "You love me. We're a happy family with a--" Raven catapulted the evil singing clock to joins its evil Teletubie friends.

Unfortunately, Tim and Garfield rushed in to finish the song, "Great big hug here, Raven felt herself suffocating and a kiss from me to you and here, she was covered in doggy drool, won't you say you love me too?"

Somehow I don't think you'd believe me if darling Raven said, "Yes dearies. I love you with all my heart!" So instead she replied, "Oh yes, copulating cads whom I'll castrate if you don't GET OUT!ยก" (Roughly translated: Get out fucking bastards, before I relieve you of your manhood.)

While the meaning of the threat was somewhat lost on them (Beast Boy because of that damn itchy grass skirt and his miniscule tolerance of big words, Robin because he was suffocating himself in her chest), they both understood "GET OUT". "Get out" meaning "to leave" and the capitalization meaning "under penalty of Supermom's wrath."

So they fled, parading in black silk bras and waving pantyhose banners. Who knew Raven wore pantyhose? Who knew Raven had a grass skirt? Well, enough pondering. Now stomp!

Stomp.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Three stomps led Raven to a room of messy diapers. No babies. Only enough infant stink bombs to eradicate a rampaging army of angry mongooses. Oh yes, and there were landmines. Lots and lots of landmines. Poopy landmines. Of course being our heroine, Raven just happened to get her foot stuck...

"Stupid brats. Wait. JUST WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!!!" And so an outpour of disgusting brown stuff is forever engraved in her memory. That was when the spewing of unpleasant things originating from a mewling, cruddy baby's backside began.

Of all horrors...But worse was to become of her. Definitely much much worse. For when Raven finally reached the bathroom, her mournful wail came.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

There...was...no...shampoo...Only a nasty soy cubed based substitute, which was brown as a sickly disgusting puddle of mud. Did she dare dump that stuff on her head? "Over my dead, infested body," She thought miserably. Cursing all organic sludge monsters pretending to be innocent bottles of shampoo, Beast Boy's beloved tofu joined Jinx, Mammoth, and Gizmo.

And while our antagonist of soy swears ghastly vengeance on all tofu ever coming into existence, more havoc is being wreaked elsewhere...

Low and Behold, the Amazing Mumbo!...Pulling a not-so-amazing bunny out of a not-so-amazing hat, a normally not-so-amazing hat.

Today, the said hat of the poor and rather wasted magician was brimmed to its frayed edges with diamonds. Strange how the police hadn't arrived. Surely after robbing the largest jewelry store and turning it into a stack of cards, you think they'd notice. For Pete's sake, is this where the taxpayers' money goes? On donuts and coffee? And who is this Pete?

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Waving his wand, Mumbo was quite off his rocker. Quite off, indeed. "Nosenuggets, my bunny! No more room for you. Out with you, I say. Get out of my hat! Be gone, ABRACADABRA!"

And with that, Mumbo gave the evicted bunny a good kick in the rear and sent it hopping. Now, besides being charged with animal abandonment and abuse of a particularly handsome white rabbit, he should have been condemned with thievery and jailed. But where are the police? And what has befallen the Titans in this time of madness?

Honestly, dear reader, you know what has so terribly plagued the Titans. So take a look at the Jump City's police force instead.

Meet Assistant Commissioner Royd Bergren and the 54th division of Sector 7, C-15. Meet their charge, Miss Libuse Hudec, daughter of a Czechoslovakian ambassador, whom they are supposed to protect.

"Supposed to" are keywords here because they are failing miserably.

C-15 of Sector 7 was analogous to Broadway of New York City, very prosperous. Most likely where annoyed grenades of gooey tomatoes and other miscellaneous veggies, surely all rotten of course, harass bad performers like Mumbo Jumbo. Superheroes can't do all the work, can they?

Yes, the critics and the police department are quite formidable, wielding their reviews and nightsticks. Critics could send the not-so-amazing Mumbo running for his mommy. On the other hand, the 54th division could only stand behind a barricade of police cars as a monster destroyed the East Side.

"HEADQUARTERS, THIS IS ASSISTANT COMMISSIONER ROYD BERGREN, OVER. REQUESTING BACK UP IMMEDIATELY. DO YOU READ? REQUES--"

"Commissioner!" A young police officer saw something moving, slithering along the shattered glass. Something not quite human (well duh), almost reptilian the way it moved, shiny and skeletal limbs...He opened fire...

And missed.

Dodging the bullets, the creature wound around, snaking around his hand and crushing it, tearing his arm off at the elbow and red glistening threads jamming themselves into the bone. Long and rope-like, ripping the muscle off his appendage as the skin melted off, five tentacles rippled over the fingers, reaching for the gun.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Two officers in front took shots to the chest as the creature sprouted eight new legs, and sucked their flesh off their bodies like some demented figment of an octopus, much like one who ate the living room furniture. Needless to say, after such a fulfilling meal, the spindly branches were no longer quite so spindly. Layers of skin were rippling over, purple skin.

Three shots fired, two police down, which meant...Who else had been shot? Here, we get to why Assistant Commissioner Royd Bergren, hereby referred to as AC Royd Bergren, and his division were failing miserably.

Perhaps because some person of the police department failed all his admittance exams or because it simply is a convenient plot device, there happened to be a truck of some sort, which had gone through the roadblock of police cars, carrying an important load of chemicals.

That final shot hit the truck, smack-dab in the middle.

BOOM!

The result of being ignited from the eight-wheeler and breaking beakers of dangerous, toxic acids and whatnot was a large explosion wiping out the entire East Side. This includes the Hotel Imperial, which the Miss Libuse Hudec was staying at.

Buildings were toppling like stacks of cards, some because they were stacks of cards, curtsey of famous magician Mumbo. Luckily, the ambassador's daughter was huddled alongside the police barricade, but her luck ends here.

"GET HER BACK! PULL BACK!" Royd Bergren yelled furiously as another splotch of chemical mixture took out another a massive chunk of building, showering them all with dust as the solid concrete supports toppled, destroying half the street. "GET THE GIRL OUT OF HERE!"

Police officers gathered around the large hole, where the creature had last been binging its thirteen tentacles off. "Is it dead?" A paramedics lady squinted in the distance, in addition to the cars and buildings, the collapsing pillars had taken the burning chemical truck.

"No...Impossible." Her eyes widened as suddenly, the remaining street was blasted with an explosion, tumbling as cracks split the road in two and red fleshy legs emerged.

Libuse Hudec was screaming in broken English. "HELP! Police, Mister Bergren!"

Two tentacles were dragging her vocal cords from her throat, her skin bubbling, oozing as it melted off her bones. Her eyes were dilated, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth, her broken ribs puncturing her lungs and allowing the maroon-ish fluid inside to spill as her face swelled.

"Help...me." Her body convulsed, fleshy veins twisting around her already broken neck as it suddenly exploded, spraying the street and burning holes into the buildings.

Apparently, the monster had absorbed some acidic chemicals during his trip in the blasted hole.

"Dammit!" Bergren cursed. Libuse's skin had completely peeled off but some alien membrane had spread itself over her body, purple strands of bloodied flesh flailing where the acid had eaten through her organs and was dissolving as it formed into some sort of creature

"This is the AC. Call the Titans. NOW."

And that is why there was no police to interfere which Mumbo's mad robbing spree.

Now this is why the Titans or rather, Raven won't be aiding the AC anytime soon.

Of all things created to torment the Titans (bath time, Barney, doors that could be broken into by mere toddlers) a murderous man-eating monster that strongly resembled the foul mess of tofu sludge was not very extraordinary.

All our beloved heroine had to do was to get incurably angry and dump the stupid thing into the next dimension. Of course, you wouldn't think that to be difficult when a toddler steals your bra and poke holes in your pantyhose for the flagpole to go through.

But it is, seeing as how Raven has finished with her shower only to find that her towel and clothes have be taken hostage by a bunch of immature brats and a ear-splitting ruckus has been raised by the "We need your help, Titans" alarm.

And they didn't leave her shoes!

What had she expected?

These were babies she was talking about...No worse, TITAN babies.

Babies with superpowers.

They hadn't the grain-sized bit of morals to spare a few crumb carrying ants from cremation, which is why Beast Boy has a miraculously missing patch of fur and a considerable burn.

They probably couldn't even pronounce the word!

M-O-R-A-L-S.

So now our heroine is in the same predicament as Beast Boy was quite awhile back (chapter one), except that he had a towel to aid him.

Swearing vengeance on all horrible, room-redecorating, cape-abducting babies, Raven teleported to her room, hoping the almighty gods had some decency to leave her spare outfit intact so she can don it and hurry to fight the evil sludge monster. (By herself of course, what would the city say if they saw the Titans, as...BABIES?)

Three words.

No

Such.

Luck.

And so a mad cackling glee was heard in the tower, or is it just my too-fat-to-fly self?

A/N: WORLD DOMINATION! May disclaimers be sat on by elephants!