Really, we don't like this piece. We like this chapter a lot more than first. No offence if you liked the first chapter. Hopefully, this will either be a satisfactory penance or a heightening to your enjoyment.

We have been avoiding writing this follow-up. To make getting this over with more enjoyable, we decided to do what we affectionately call "self-insert buffoon." We don't actually act like this. We don't? I thought it was fairly accurate ;p If it was, we wouldn't be able to stand each other long enough to write any fanfiction.

Ooh! And for those of you who have read the A/Ns of "It's Tired and I'm Early": You get to see the out-of-character stick in action!

However you felt about the previous chapter... Enjoy!

Two writers stared at the unsatisfactory bit of writing.

The dirty blonde girl groaned, "Why did we write that? Much less publish it!"

A girl with light brown hair broke an awkward thinking face to reply, "Because we were desperate to post something." She slipped back into her awkward thinking face.

"And we promised a second chapter. What were we thinking?"

"Again, desperation."

"Do we have to? No one cares."

"Except that our word is our bond."

"Crap. Let's just get this over with."

"'Excellent notion.'"

Both women disapparated.

Merlin cut his over-long hair. He was thinking that he needed to get rid of the catastrophe in his room. Then he heard a loud crack. He wheeled around. The warlock was barely able to register the two women before the brown-haired girl hit him in the face with a stick.

Merlin's face went slack. "Master?" He said in a squeaky, awe-filled voice.

"See all this hair?" The brunette asked.

"Yes, I see it, master."

"Hurry it up, Fern," snapped the blonde. "Before it wears off."

Fern waved her hand impatiently. "We can always hit him again, Zab. Anyways, Merlin, you are going to deal with your hair later. You have more important things to do."

"Of course, master," Merlin droned.

"You don't remember seeing us."

"Or hearing us," Zab added.

"That too," Fern agreed.

"That too," Merlin repeated lifelessly.

"That's just creepy," Fern and Zab said in unison.

"That's just creepy," Merlin repeated.

"He's copying us; it's about to wear off. Let's go," Fern said, turning to Zab.

The women disapparated.

A minute later, Merlin shook off his trance. Looking at the hair, he suddenly felt that he couldn't waste anymore time. And he now had a strange sense that repeating after people was creepy. Not that he generally cared to copy-cat others before then.

Arthur Pendragon scoured the castle for his lazy, idiotic manservant. Finally, his search brought him to Gaius's. He heard an indistinct muffled noise from Merlin's room.

"Merlin!" Arthur called.

No reply.

He stomped up the stairs and opened the door. The sight of the room nearly caused the crowned prince of Camelot to stumble backward. Shiny white... Dare he say it? Fluff. Arthur drew his sword. He wasn't certain whether Merlin had gotten himself into trouble and/or come up with a harebrained plan. Hair? Arthur grimaced as he realized what the white fluff was. Hair. Long, repulsive bale loads of hair. How or why so much hair wound up in his manservant's room was beyond Arthur.

He tentatively poked the massive lump of hair. Well, it probably wasn't alive. Arthur pulled his sword back. The prince stepped into the room and onto the hair.

"Merlin," Arthur called, "what is all this?"


Several minutes earlier in Merlin's room...

"No, I've already told you. You can't have it," Fern said firmly. With one hand, she held her sister's forehead at arm's length. Her other hand clutched the out-of-character stick at arm's length in the opposite direction.

"But it's my turn!" Zab protested. She pulled the offending hand off her forehead. Then she made a dive for the stick. And missed.

"No, it isn't. You hit Arthur last time! I want a turn."

"No. You used it last time. That makes it my turn."

"No, it doesn't. You hit Arthur last—"

"That's beside the point. The last person to use the out-of-character stick was you. Now hand it over."

Zab grabbed Fern's wrist. Using her sister's wrist as leverage, the blonde girl threw her body between her sister's arms. This effectively blocked Fern's ability to protect her treasure. Zab pressed her advantage and began using both of her hands to pry the stick from Fern. As the struggle ensued, Fern noticed something terrible.

Her nail polish was chipping. Fern yielded in an effort to save her poor chipping nails.

Zab, holding the out-of-character stick above her head, triumphantly flounced away from her sister.

"Now, are you sure that this is the right time?" Zab demanded. She scratched her legs.

"I'm sure."

"It's itchy and gross! I think we're too early or too late. Did I mention that it's itchy and—"

"That's what you get for wearing capris... and flip flops," Fern replied blandly.

"Doesn't change the fact that it's gross and itchy."

Fern was about to retort when they heard the signal to shut up. Arthur's voice calling for Merlin. The women pressed their backs against the wall on either side of the door.

Arthur entered the small room. Zab lunged forward and managed to hit the 'ultimate killing machine' with the out-of-character stick.

"Master?" Arthur turned his now slack face toward Zab.

"You didn't need to hit him. A poke would have done the job," Fern reprimanded.

Zab fought the urge to point out that it was only fun if you hit them. After all, she had a victim under the influence of the stick. Right now, he was extremely pliable. And Arthur Pendragon did not need anymore encouragement to hit people. Especially not with a message that could be translated into 'life is no fun unless you hit others.' The effects would wear off... eventually. Still, it was a bad plan. Zab opted for a retort that couldn't be mistaken for a disastrous command:

"You're to talk. Hit any old men lately?"

"No, I haven't, master," Arthur answered in place of Fern. "Would you like me to?"

"No!" Zab answered quickly. "No, I have a different task for you. This hair," she indicated the fluff, "is a monster. It ate Merlin. There is still a chance you could save him. React accordingly."

Arthur awoke from his trance, unaware that he had even been in one. Suddenly, he had the most amazing epiphany. The hair was a monster. It had eaten Merlin. He needed to save Merlin! Arthur wondered why thought that idea was so amazing as he plunged his sword into the hair.

He swayed slightly. Why had he been standing on one leg? It didn't matter. He needed to save Merlin!

Arthur hacked madly at the hair. Bits of white flew everywhere. The hair wasn't putting up much of a fight. But the prince continued his violent attacks on the seemingly defenseless opponent.

"Sire!" Gaius's voice rang out. "What..." The old man was at a loss for words.

Arthur ignored the physician. He needed to kill the hair!

An hour later, Gaius managed to convince his royal highness to leave. The physician had said he needed to research the "creature." He would call for the prince's services once a way to "defeat" the hair was found.

Arthur was chasing "Dragoon the Great" down the halls. Arthur turned a corner. He saw a fluttering of clothes. The old man was hiding just around that corner. Arthur was going to catch—

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed. "You're alive!"

Focus, he told himself.

"Where did the sorcerer go, Merlin?" Arthur asked.

Merlin twitched very oddly. "Wha—" He croaked. "He went... He went that way." Merlin pointed at the wall behind him. He jerkily looked at different angles of the ceiling.

"Sound the warning bell," Arthur ordered to the guards. "Search the entire palace. I want him found." Then he turned back to Merlin, who was now hugging his cheek with his hand, "Are you telling me that you let run straight past you?"

"He was—he was—he was too fast for me."

"He's a doddering old man!" Merlin was now tugging on his cheek. What was he doing? "Well, at least you're alive."

"What? He didn't attack me... just... out ran me."

"Out ran you?" What was Merlin talking about? What did the old man have to do with the hair monster? And why did Merlin just cringe?

"Arthur... Why are you standing on one leg?"

In case you're wondering we told Arthur that he had to stand one leg. Whenever he staying still for more than 10 seconds.

Please review! We grudgingly kept our word (even if you don't care). We need to know how you feel about this chapter. Better? Worse? About the same?