Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, seriously. And blame insomnia for the plot if there is one, but there isn't. I don't think....

Summary: Sorta Parody. Takes place at the last scene of the movie after the buildings all blow up. Lots of dry, darkish humor. Rating for language. Extremely short one-shot.

Note: Well, here's my first ever Fight Club fic. I couldn't sleep, so I'm up at... ::checks watch:: ...12:20 a.m. writing this. It was swirling around inside my head and wouldn't let me sleep.

2ndNote: Dialogue in italics is Tyler speaking. And just because he doesn't have a name, we're calling the narrator (Ed Norton's character) Jack. Oh wait, and I've just now decided he'll be the narrator in this too...so maybe we won't even mention him as Jack. And don't ask me why I keep say 'we', it's almost 12:30 in the morning so leave me the hell alone.

You're Not Real

I watched the buildings all around us collapse and crumble to the ground. It was a wonderful sight really. It made me feel better about myself, better about being me, better that Tyler was gone.

"I'm not gone you idiot."

Shit. Okay, maybe I was wrong about that. "Leave me the hell alone, I've got Marla now. You go away."

I didn't really notice, but Marla suddenly gave me a strange look and I faintly heard her say, "Who the hell are you talking to?", but I guess I ignored her.

"I'm not leaving."

There he was, Tyler, standing proud as ever and grinning at me. "You've got a fucking exit wound from a bullet in the back of your skull. How can you still be there?!"

"I wasn't ever here asshole. I'm not even here now. And this exit wound...it doesn't exist." He paused, then reached around the back of his skull where that gaping hole was. I wanted to vomit. "Sticky, smells a little funny too." He shook his head. "Nevermind that."

"Cut it out Tyler." It was Marla, she was talking again.

I looked at her strangely. "You see him too?"

"See who?" Marla gave me that, 'You're crazy', look again.

Tyler started laughing like a hyena. He was like a hyena. A big, blonde, smirking hyena with a bad fashion sense.

"You're neck is bleeding."

He had to point that out as if I didn't already know. I glared at him when he started laughing. "Shut the hell up."

"I wasn't saying anything." That was Marla. Maybe she should shut up too. She was beginning to get on my nerves. I don't really know why I was so glad I had her now in the first place.

"You shot yourself in the fucking neck! You shot me too you idiot."

I am Jack's sense of frustration. "I wouldn't have to have shot me if I wasn't trying to shoot you!"

"You were trying to shoot me, what?!" Marla was screaming now, frantic. She thought I was looney tunes. I just wanted her to shut the hell up right about now. I had to finish this with Tyler, make him go away.

I looked at Marla for a second, remembering how we'd met. Then I got angry, as if Tyler was taking over me. "You're cancer! Shut up!"

He was now rolling on the floor in hysterics. Real fuckin' hysterical. Right. Well, maybe it was. "Maybe I should just shoot you again. You're not real."

"What the fuck are you talking about you psycho? I thought you were over this?!" Marla shouted more. I think my eardrums almost popped. Really. It was loud. Wait, now she's repeating herself. We'll skip over that part, it's not important.

"Maybe you should just shoot her. I'm done with her. She's annoying."

I was beginning to think he was right. I turned to Marla, she looked like she wanted to slap me. The gun is in my hand.

"Go on, I'll wait." Tyler looked at his watch, I think he was getting bored. He would do it if I didn't have the guts. I do, she's fucking pissing me off.

"What the fuck are you staring at?!" Marla glared at me.

I am Jack's trigger finger.

Bang.

"Okay, can we go now?"

"Sure, what do you want to do?"

"There's an X-Files marathon on."

"Okay."

"Do you want me to stop and get some popcorn?"

"Yeh, sure."

"Before we watch it though, I wanna check my email."

"You have email now?"

"Yep, a fan club too. People are saying I look alot like some Brad Pitt guy."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Never heard of him."

"Yeh, me neither. But sometimes the fans send me pics of naked hot chicks."

"Nice. Can I check those out some time."

"I don't see why not."

"Nice."

- - - - -

Note: Okay, that's it. I'm done. And that was the weirdest thing I've ever written.... x-0 But I am oh so proud, and it's now 12:44 a.m. I think I'll be able to get my mind to shut down and get some sleep. Oh yeh, please review. You really don't have to, but it would help pay to feed my muse.