Read at your own risk.
A Twilight fangirl sits in front of her computer writing fanfiction.
The door bursts open and people in SWAT tactical gear come running inside.
Random SWAT guy points his gun at the fangirl. "FREEZE!!"
The Twilight fangirl screams really loudly and then passes out from suprise.
After many interesting dreams about pink llamas, an army of mini-bots, and Edward demanding to have his pants back the fangirl wakes to find herself tied to a chair in a pitch black room.
"WTF?! Where am I?"
A light turns on revealing an old lady sitting behind a desk surronded by big, beefy goons.
Oh shit. The Twilight fangirl thinks. "Whatever it is I didn't do it!"
"Oh, but you did." Says the old lady. "You posted fanfiction without a disclaimer."
The fangirl attempts to look innocent. "No I didn't."
"You have attempted to steal the credit for a story that is not yours. Face the consequences."
Without giving her a chance to defend herself, the big, beefy goons drag the foolish fangirl to an undisclosed location where she is foced to watch Mike Newton dance to I'm so sexy in nothing but a thong. FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE!!
I. Blame. SANTA!! I was digging through my grandma's pantry and I found these Santa shaped chocolate things and I thought to myself, "Chocolate doesn't go bad. I can eat it." WRONG!! So totally wrong! WARNING: Chocolate doesn't go bad but after a while it tastes funny and makes you twice as hyper. (points to the story as proof)