AN: This is not a serious story at all. It's just another one of 'my bad Narnia fanfiction' spoofs. Sort of picks up where "Meet the writers" left off, but I guess it can also be seen as a completely separate story as well. Basicly, to get out of co-staring with mary-sue in yet another horrible fanfic, Peter makes Edmund pretend to be him.

"This is so stupid," Edmund commented flatly, glancing into a tall, glittering mirror that looked like it was a missing set piece from a live-action movie version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. He was wearing a short, light platinum blonde wig over his dark hair; courtesy of his lovely, lovely brother (note the sarcasm).

"Come on, Ed, it doesn't look that bad," said Peter, standing at his side, even though it actually sort of did.

"I'm taking this off before I become the first person to literally die from embarrassment."

"Edmund, I'm asking you as a brother, as a friend," Peter pleaded with him. "I just can't stand to be in another fanfic with Mary-sue. I'm losing it."

"Um, judging by your taste in cheep wigs, I'd say you'd already lost it." Edmund grimaced.

"Cheep?" Peter protested, clearly a little insulted. "I paid a tenner for that!"

"Wow, you seriously are having a mental break down."

"See? I told you."

Edmund sighed; he loved his brother and he understood how awful it must have been for him to be in so many horrible fics. After all, ever since the Prince Caspian movie had come out, fangirls had been writing more about him than they used to, so he knew the feeling. He wanted to help his brother, he really did, but this just seemed too moronic a way of doing so.

"Look, Pete, I know you're having a rough time of it," said Edmund, "but what idiot is going to think I'm you just because-"

Before he could finish his sentence, his cousin Useless (did I say Useless? I meant Eustace), walked by, saw him, and said, "Oh, hey Peter."

Peter arched a brow at his brother.

Noticing the real Peter, Eustace's own brow wrinkled considerably, and he said, "Say, Peter, did you know there were two of you?"

"Come on, Ed, please?" said Peter, ignoring his cousin for now.

"Edmund's here?" Eustace's eyes widened. "Where's that balmy boy? He owes me money."

"Don't look at me," Edmund blurted out, "I'm Peter."

"Right-o, then," said Eustace, shrugging his shoulders. "Bye Peters!"

"Someone should lock him up," muttered Edmund, watching his useless cousin bounding off into the distance looking for him.

"So you'll do it?"

"Lock Eustace up? Sure."

"No, I meant pretend to be me," Peter clarified.

"Come on, Pete, I really, really don't-"

"Eustace thought you were me-this could really work!"

"Eustace is pathetic, of no use at all until he's been turned into a dragon then back again."

Peter's nose wrinkled and his expression went distant for a second. "And he does burn down the set breathing fire every single time they do a VDT-related fic."

"Peter, you're seriously going to plead with me until I break down and agree to this, aren't you?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"Fine," sighed Edmund; "let's just get this over with, then."

"You're the best, Ed!" Real, honest to God tears filled Peter's eyes. "I won't forget this."

"But, if I'm you, who are you going to be for the fanfic?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Why, you, of course! The wigs were buy one get one free." He pulled out a short dark wig roughly the colour of his brother's hair and put it over his head.


Five minutes later the director called for all the Narnia fanfiction cast to come to stage, so Peter (or rather, I should say, Edmund as Peter), grabbed his-okay, no wait, Peter's (is anyone else already confused?)-Rhindon lunch box, and went to face what he feared might be the most dreadful Mary-sue yet.

The set was quite awful, to say the least. The stage was set for a post-Narnia-time England, but it looked all wrong because the fangirl writing it hadn't done any research what so ever on the 1940s, nor had she ever even read the Narnia books or paid attention to the actual plot of the movie. Everything was stylish and shinny, sort of like Las Vegas with a Barbie-pink version of the Big Ben in the middle of it, and everybody had mobiles. The flashing lights resulted in many "oohs" and "ahhs" from the poor, dazzled talking animals who were somehow in England instead of Narnia-which of course, as in most bad fanfics, wasn't explained.

"Petey!" squealed Mary-sue, with a playful flip of her long golden hair, when she saw Edmund come in.

Figures she'd be dumb enough to fall for it... Edmund rolled his eyes.

Peter, standing on the side, still under the guise of pretending to be his younger brother, tried not to laugh at Edmund's discomfort. After all, he was doing him a huge favor; best not to bite the hand that feeds you...look a gift horse in the mouth...yada yada.

"Alright, Peter," said the director, not because he was so stupid he didn't recognize Edmund in a blonde wig, but because he didn't bother to look up-one Pevensie brother being drooled over by an obsessive writer, who didn't realize she was going to grow up some day and might have to explain her embarrassingly bad Peter/so-called OC stories to her children who would never be able to take her seriously after that until everyone ended up in therapy together because they couldn't even sit through a game of Monopoly without having issues, was as much the same as the other. It didn't matter. Getting the blasted chapter up and going on lunch-break did. "Go stand next to Mary-sue."

Cringing, Edmund did so.

"Okay," said the director, "Please turn to page three in your scripts."

"What script?"

"The one in your hands, Edmund."

"Oh!" He glanced down, amazed to see a script loaded with typos and misspellings and over-use of the word "like" had materialized in his hands. "Where did that come from?"

"Why did you just call him Edmund?" Mary-sue asked the director.

"Did I say Edmund? I meant Peter." The director had to come up with to avoid delaying the chapter-posting process any longer.

"Whatever," said Mary-sue, batting her beautiful eyelashes which were so totally lovely that Peter and Edmund fought for the sake of them in her story-as opposed to, you know, fighting actual giants and battles in the Lone Islands and whatever else kings were supposed to be doing in the golden age of Narnia.

The director pulled out a bullhorn, which had appeared sort of like Edmund's script. "And action!"

"Oh, Peter, do you feel anything for me? Anything you couldn't tell me in Narnia because you were king and had to marry that stupid princess who was, like, way less pretty and sweet than I am?" Mary-sue cooed, supposedly as part of the fanfic, though with her no one was every really sure.

Edmund looked at the script, wrinkled his nose, and said, "I don't know, do you ever stop tooting your own horn? I mean, if I'm the high king, why would I fall in love with some girl who's mean to the woman who was supposedly my wife in Narnia?"

Mary-sue couldn't come up with an answer for that, so she looked at the director. "Mr. Director, Peter's being mean to me!"

"Edmund-I mean, Peter," huffed the director into his bullhorn, "can you puh-lease just read what it says on the page?"

Edmund pouted. "Why would I say, 'you're hot and way, way, way, way, way," -here he had to turn the page- "way, way, way, way, way, way beautiful. That's what's important to me as a king'? That's not how I think, that's not how anyone who runs a country should think!" He glanced back down at the script and added, "And since when is there a y in 'beautiful'?"

The director's stomach rumbled; he wished his assistant's grandmother had chosen a different day to die, he could have really gone for a sandwich right then.

"Fine," he gave in, "let's just skip to the next chapter."

"Ooh," Mary-sue said, clapping her smooth-as-silk, lily-white, manicured hands, making a most musical din. "I love that one!"

"Is it as lame as this one?" asked Edmund. "Are you sure you have readers?"

"Course," pouted Mary-sue. "People love my stories, they just leave me bad reviews cuz they're jealous they can't write as good as me can."

Edmund's right eyebrow arched slightly. "Did you just use 'me' as the subject of a sentence?"

"Director!" wailed Mary-sue. "William's being mean to me."

"Skandar-I mean Edmund; no, I don't, I mean Peter," the director rubbed his temples and tried not to scream. "Stop upsetting her, okay?"

"I'm not doing anything!" he grumped, fed up, glaring over at Peter-as-Edmund.

"Okay," said the director; "in this chapter, Peter finds out Susan is adopted, and Mary-sue worries that she's going to steal him away."

"You're joking," said Edmund, his tone very flat.

"No, Petey, he's not." Mary-sue's voice rang out like bells.

Petey? He reminded himself to give his brother a good cuff upside the head for putting him through this when the fic was over. Why did the writer even bother updating?

"Where's Susan?" asked the director.

Just then a small, familiar-looking girl bounded onto the set carrying a large dictionary.

"What-ho, Lucy!" said Edmund in a friendly voice, glad to see at least one original character on set. "Where's Susan?" He stared at her for a moment, noticed something, and added, "I say, Lu, did you dye your hair? It looks really dark."

"I'm not Lucy, I'm Susan."

"No you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Um, Lucy, just because you changed your hair colour doesn't mean..." he stopped; she was looking at him funny.

"Wait, you're not Peter!"

"Yes he is!" said Mary-sue, turning to Edmund (but she thought it was Peter) and cooing, "See, this is why you chose me at the end of the fic, she's too dumb for you."

"Edmund? When did you go blonde?" Lucy ignored Mary-sue. "This isn't the BBC."

"Give us a second," said Edmund, grabbing onto Lucy's arm and putting up his index finger at the director apologetically.

"Edmund, what's going on?"

"What's going on with you?" he countered. "Why are you pretending to be Susan?"

"Susan's sort of not here and someone needed to fill in for her."

"Where is she?"

Lucy pouted and pulled out a postcard, handing it to her brother.

Edmund glanced down at the postcard; it showed a picture of the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, and Susan was standing next to it. Standing at Susan's left was Warren (aka the guy who thought her name was Phyllis); he had a big, slack jawed grin on his face and was pointing to Susan excitedly as if to say, "Look who I'm with!"

The back of the postcard just said, "Ha ha. PS: Lucy, please cover for me."

"No fair!" whined Edmund, looking very LWW for a moment. "How come Su get's a vacation? First she gets to go to America while we're stuck with Useless-Eustace, and now this! What gives?"

Lucy folded her arms across her chest. "Why are you pretending to be Peter? Isn't that him right over there, impersonating you?" She pointed to the real Peter.

"Because he begged me; he's on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"Wait, I'm confused," said Lucy, putting up her hands for a moment, dropping the dictionary to the floor where it opened magically to the page that had 'gastrovascular' on it. "If this is a Peter/Mary-Sue/Susan fic, but neither Peter nor Susan are actually in it, only us, doesn't that make it an Edmund/Mary-Sue/Lucy fic?"

"I don't know," Edmund moaned. "I just wish it were over."

"Is Aslan even going to be in this thing?" Lucy whispered.

Edmund flipped through his script. "Briefly in chapter 23 to tell Mary-sue that she is, 'like, you know, like, part of the, like, prophecy'."

"Why is Aslan talking like a valley girl?" Lucy's eyes widened. She was used to bad stories wrecking her brothers' characters, but this was just too much.

"I haven't the foggiest," Edmund told her.

"Um, hello, Petey-kins!" Mary-sue waved over at them.

"Okay, come on, Lu, let's just get this over with."

"So," said the director, squinting very hard at Lucy, wondering why she was there instead of Susan. Whatever. "This chapter starts when Peter is comforting his sister who's just found out she isn't a real Pevensie and Mary-sue walks in. So Edmund-I mean Peter-go give your sister-who's not actually your sister, that's Lucy-I mean Susan-a hug, and we'll start."

"Aw, come 'ere you!" Edmund hugged his little sister, just glad to be hugging anyone that wasn't Mary-sue, hoping the writer hadn't written a group hug or anything into the story.

"And action!" yelled the director.

Mary-sue stared at them, made the most fake-surprised face in the history of fake-surprised faces, and promptly burst into beautiful tears that gleamed like diamonds as they slid down her stunningly good-looking cheeks. Unlike when normal people cried, Mary-sue never got red or puffy, and she just looked even more exquisite for her all her pain.

"Oh, Peter, how could you?" bawled Mary-sue.

Edmund let go of Lucy, frowned, and said, "Seriously? You're flipping out on me because I gave the girl I-according to your lame story-thought was my sister all my life a hug? By the Lion! Are you sure I end up with you? I mean, why would a High King like someone who gets jealous of-"

"You're so hurtful!" sobbed Mary-sue, thrusting her delightfully pale face into her perfect hands.

Lucy tried-in vain-not to laugh.

"Okay, I can't take this anymore!" exclaimed Edmund, stamping his foot. "Why is 'Seven Things' by Miley Cyrus playing in the background?"

Lucy blinked at her brother. "You can hear it, too?"

"Oh good, you can both hear it," said Peter-as-Edmund, walking up to them. "I thought my medication was going bad."

"Can't we just write to the site for guideline rule breaking and get this story deleted already?" Edmund begged.

"No," sighed the director; thinking, 'if only'.

"Let's just skip to the chapter where you save my life and I forgive you," Mary-sue put a hand on Edmund-as-Peter's shoulder.

He shuddered. "How do I save your life?"

"Tumnus comes from Narnia because he wants to suck my blood," she told him.

"Uh, fauns don't suck blood," said Lucy, rolling her eyes. "Read a book!"

"Maybe you should read a book, Susan!" snapped Mary-sue.

"She's read more of them than you," Edmund jumped in to defend her.

"She's in more of them than you," Peter-as-Edmund added.

"That's it, I'm leaving you for Caspian in the next chapter."

"Thank the Lion!" Edmund looked so happy that he might actually cry.

"Oh, don't be sad, Petey." Mary-sue threw her arms around him, hugging Edmund with a death-grip that nearly choked the life out of him. "I hate it when you're sad."

"But you just said-"

"I hate to think of you pinning away for me while I'm in the arms of another man."

"I'll be okay," said Edmund, stiffly, holding back a nervous chuckle.

"But it makes me so sad..." she bawled. "But what can I do? I love Caspian."

"Since when?" Lucy muttered under her breath.

"Since she saw that Ben guy playing him with a Spanish accent," Peter-as-Edmund told her in a short whisper.

"But it makes me so sad to break your heart," wept Mary-sue.

"Help me!" Edmund whisper-hissed to his brother and sister as they started to leave the set. He wanted to follow them, but Mary-sue was still clinging to him like a leech.

"Do you want to grab a sandwich down at the cafe?" Peter asked Lucy, ripping off the dark wig and taking her arm.

"Sure, Peter, sounds like a plan."

"Wait, come back!" protested Edmund as they vanished down the corridor. "I'm trapped, she's got me, I can't breathe!"

"Well that's what you get for betraying your family for Turkish Delight," said the director, tossing away his bullhorn and checking the clock; a magical Cinderella-style grandfather clock that had suddenly appeared next to Mary-sue who was now wearing glass slippers. "Hey, Lucy, Peter, wait up!"

"I did that one time!" cried Edmund, desperately. "One time!"

AN: That wasn't too stupid was it? It was supposed to be funny...dunno if it was...but it made me chuckle a bit when I was writing it. Anyway, please review and tell me what you thought.