Disclaimer: Algebra Quiz, problem #42: Solve the following equation.

Owner of PPC Jay and Acacia, Owner of LotR and all that comes with it JRR Tolkien

Jay and Acacia, JRR Tolkien ≠ Gabrielle

Solution: Owner of PPC, Owner of LotR and all that comes with it ≠ Gabrielle

Prologue

There are many evils in this world; some are ecological, some were bound to happen whether we were here or not and some were purely man-made and cannot be revoked. War is one example; so is racism, hatred and a desire to be ahead. Better. Richer. Above all.

Compared to global warming, pollution, genocide, AIDS and the rapidly degenerating ozone layer, human being's desire for power seems like a small thing.

But it is not a small thing. In fact, it is worse than all the evils and disasters in this world put together.

Desire for power and superiority is, in fact, what caused all these problems in the first place.

Some people were different, as it is in all cases where there are 2 'sides', so to speak. Some people didn't want power; they just wanted to live their life in peace. Those people are the ones that we call 'authors'.

They realized that this world is so deep in its own self-created hell, that they knew there wasn't any possible way that they could escape it – short of committing suicide, which wasn't only futile, was also just plain stupid.

So they used their intelligence, and made it go a little farther than other people have tried. They used a small forgotten part of their consciousness called 'imagination', and created their own worlds in their heads.

There are various ways to use your imagination. Write songs, paint pictures, dance. But what made this branch of art different, was that people had to imagine their own world. They didn't have it laid before them in a painting, or told to them in the beauty of movement. It was written down on plain paper and the rest was left to the other people to imagine.

Books were very popular. Libraries were created; printing was invented; books were cherished, and reading became essential for people to learn.

And then came Hollywood.

Not that I have anything against Hollywood, of course; some of its fruits are works of art unto themselves. Movies are also a way to tell a story. But they don't make you think. They just lay it all bare, and the only thing you have to do is look.

I don't know who was the first person to adapt a written tale for the silver screen, but it became a trend. Many stories were now told, with one common difference: people's imaginations were unemployed.

Of course, when parts of you don't need to work anymore, you either stop using them and they become rusty, or that leaves you more room for different things.

There was one person that had a particular affinity for imagination. In fact, he used his so much that a whole world was created. In his mind, of course. He wrote it all down, and people became entranced by the fullness of this place.

Of course you know who I'm talking about. Johnny Ronnie, or more commonly known as JRR Tolkien.

For a few decades, his tales were untouched and unbesmirched by the monster known as Hollywood. A few weak attempts were made, but they never really came through.

And then came Peter Jackson.

He was a genius in his own right, but he did not know what kind of monster HE was creating. He filmed the stories of JRR Tolkien with live actors, reenacting the tales told by the Headmaster.

And then came the fangirls.

Fangirls are defined by the Encyclopedia of the Inane as "known to rave, squeal, post until all hours of the night, faint, swoon, drool, save excessive amounts of photos, procrastinate and say 'Ohmigosh!!'. See also: complete nutter."

Of course, they're not always complete nutters. Some of them are intelligent enough to type.

And that was the downfall of canon.

A fair amount of these fangirls started writing fanfiction, which was already a venerable and honored institution unto itself. The problem was, they were so lust-crazy that they completely forgot that there was such thing as spell-check and BETA.

The stories were not about regular occurrences in Arda. Not at all. In fact, they were so far from canon, that they could barely be recognized as being fanfiction if it wasn't for the characters.

For this was the true reason fanfiction had flourished – lusters all over the globe began writing stories about their lust objects, who fall in love with them. Or, at least, a 'new-and-improved' version of them.

I'm sure you've all ran into one of those in fanfiction, one time or another. Perfect girls with beautiful bodies, perfect abilities and so nice that you could puke? They make you want to strangle them, and then strangle the author.

These are MarySues.

And they are the real evil of this world.

They are people's imaginary perfected versions of themselves. People that are not perfect create these characters, wishing that they were them. These characters then enter the canon, and ruin it. Desecrate it. Change it. Make it so screwed-up that even the canonical characters can't recognize it anymore.

And that is the real havoc – Mary Sues tamper with IMAGINATION. They don't leave people a right place to escape to when they grow weary of the hell that is Earth.

Enter the PPC – Protectors of the Plot Continuum. These tireless agents work night and day to clean the imaginary worlds of Mary Sues and make the canon a better place to imagine.

This is the story of a Mary Sue that became a PPC agent. Her road to becoming an agent in the Department of Mary Sues was riddled with prejudices, hate, pain and insane taxidermy-obsessed trainers.

This Sue was unique, though – she actually wrote herself. This meant one thing.

A person from Outside was now trapped in PPC HQ. Forever.

How long will it take for her to go completely insane?

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(Mackenzie's A/N: My name's Mackenzie and this particular idea came to me while reading one of my fics (that's a WIP). I'm not going to stop work on Chemical Reactions, though, because I'd like to see where exactly my mind will roll with the particular plotline.

So sue me (in the legal sense). I'm writing a slightly Mary Sue-ish story. That version of me is, in fact, a highly altered one. The sole reason that that is so is because I am so paranoid that I change my password every time I sign into any account – e-mail (which I have 10 of, lest a virus kill one) or otherwise – and then change it back, because my memory and I are in the middle of a particularly nasty divorce.

And for whoever was curious, Johnny Ronnie is my nickname for JRR Tolkien, whose full name is John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. My, what a mouthful. "JOHN RONALD REUEL! STOP DAYDREAMING!" Man, his mother must have been insane.

(I currently have 1 partner, but having another one won't be at all bad. I don't think I've heard of a PPC spinoff with a threesome (kinky ) as assassins. If you want to join myself in abolishing the Sues of this world, contact me at the e-mail in my profile or (in a review) leave your name, main fandoms, lust object and why you think you can cope with having a MarySue as a fellow PPC agent.

Also, to keep from excessive strife, I won't be accepting prospects who are Boromir Buffs. Sorry.)

A bit long for a prologue, I know, but better than the 200-word ones I did for my previous fics.

Until the beginning of the story, then!)