Of Butterknives and Tuna

It rained books in the Library that day, and Hermione was wretchedly pissed off. She had a large zit on her forehead and a second before the bell rang - and to top it all off, Draco was stalking her. She thought.

"I hate wet books!" she screamed, and the two Authors started laughing uproariously at the direction their fic was already headed.

"Hello, Hermione!" said Draco, appearing from behind a sodden pile of scrolls. "Funny place for a shower, isn't it?"

Hermione was shocked. "My name is Granger to you," she said, squirting him with the water droplets coming off of her tangly hair.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," said Draco, sounding as though a massive iron butterknife had cleaved off his testicles.

"You sound like a massive butterknife has cleaved off your testicles. Not that that's any loss..."

Draco made a lemonface. "Eugh! Pain! Oh the unbearable, excrutiating pain!" he exclaimed, pulling what Hermione called a 'Juliet' and being remarkably good at it.

Hermione poured herself a glass of water from out of her tangly hair. "Here's hoping they grow back," she said, as she raised her glass to his pale self.

At this point in time, the Authors realized that the bell was supposed to have rung.

"Riiiiiiing!" said the bell.

"There," said the Left Author.

"Here's hoping they grow back," said the Right Author in a tipsy stupor.

The Left Author rolled her eyes. "I swear, you'll never get any more Firewhiskey in this house if I can help it."

The Right Author pouted. "It's MY house, and I can drink what, and whoever I want," she muttered.

"I'm aware, but somehow I doubt your dad is," and that settled the matter.

Draco tapped his foot impatiently against a bookshelf, waiting for the Authors to finish their little dialogue. The Authors blushed, but that was mainly because they could see Draco's boxers through a slit in his robes.

"What exactly is he wearing under that?" asked Hermione, posing the question to the Right Author.

"I don't care," replied the Eight Author, who was promptly shot by the Left Author for invading their computer.

"Augh. Now the floor will be stained. What a shame," said the Right Author rather unconvincingly.

"Don't worry, it'll wash out," replied Draco.

"She wasn't asking you!" the Left Author said in annoyance. Draco whimpered, because that's the sort of thing the Left Author liked to make unruly main characters do.

The Right Author suddenly remembered that she could also make unruly characters do what she wanted, so she stared straight at Hermione, who promptly jumped out the window.

Draco whimpered more loudly. "But what about the unresolved sexual tension?" He asked, looking at the Left Author hopefully.

The Right Author sighed. "I'll just leave then, if it's alright," and she left, off -

But then she didn't, because the Left Author grabbed her arm and assured her that no snogging would take place between herself and Draco, who looked rather put out.

"Alright then," the Right Author sighed, "no comment."

The Left Author decided not to comment either, and just get on with the nearly-abandoned fic.

They turned back to the computer to find Draco sleeping on soggy books, snoring softly and looking rather unattractive.

And since you insist, Right Author, he had a teddy bear on his head.

The Right Author scowled. "Well, I wouldn't have had to say that if you had just let me go off in search of more interesting people to bring into our fic."

The Left author rolled eyes, something she tended to do quite often. "We already have one! Didn't you notice Harry in the corner?"

And sure enough, when the Right Author looked, there was Potter, making out with the Eight Author.

"I thought you were dead!" screeched Draco, paling from whipped cream to paper.

"Me?" Potter asked. "Er, no, it's only Mr Voldie who can do that..."

Draco was confused. Then he was unconfused, and just annoyed.

"Not you, prat! Him!" he hollered, pointing to the Eight Author, who was currently scratching his ear and hoping that the Authors would return him to whence he came - the deep recesses of the Authors' minds that tend to collect a frightening amount of dust and toenails.

"No such luck, Eight!" smirked the Right Author, patting Eight Author on the head condescendingly. "I'm forcing you to make out with Umbridge!"

Draco fidgeted.

"I'm sorry, but I don't swing that way," he said in a mock-downhearted tone of voice. The Right Author wondered why Draco was so relieved to hear that, while the Left Author suddenly became fascinated by a fly buzzing merrily around the decaying books.

"Bzzy buzz buzz bzzzyyyyshmeil."

Everyone wondered who had said it, even the person-fly-ex-Ron who had said it in the first place.

"It was Creevey!" exclaimed the Right Author. "He never showed up for our date, the slimeball!"

And with that, the Left Author was shot into déjà  vu with the aid of the Time-Turner Hermione left behind, and returned less than a second later with Hermione and the Prisoner of Azkaban book.

"Yup, you did steal that word," the Left Author said decisively, slamming the book shut and looking mighty pleased with herself.

"Well, I would have used 'scumball', but you suggested something else," the Right Author retorted.

"Ay," said Hermione, who in the process of returning from the dead had morphed into an annoying pirate figure with an apple. Draco smirked.

"I... I..... I don't know what to screw," said Fleur, who had just watched her date be eaten by Fluffy the three-headed afro and was at a loss.

"It's okay, Fleur," said the Left Author sympathetically. "We all get that sometimes."

The Right Author smirked and said nothing.

"Virgin," said the Left Author, pointing to her Author friend and thereby explaining everything. Draco smirked again, and suddenly found the Right Author a lot more attractive.

The Right Author coughed loudly, making Pirate Hermione wonder whether she was feeling the effects of drinking seawater.

But the Right Author was coughing loudly not because of an overload of salty water, but because she had a cold and was plotting the revenge of her date, Colin Creevey.

Draco finally said something. "You're just jealous because you can't have me!" he said.

The Right Author snorted. "I can do better than you, Draco. And you're wrong. I could have you. I know how to make a love potion. But you're too boring to capture my attention for more than five seconds."

And with that, the Right Author turned away and completely forgot that Draco was there.

"I'm being forgotten!" whined Draco, which had absolutely no effect. He then jumped out the window and landed on Hermione's body. But since Hermione was alive as a pirate, Draco didn't. And the Authors, faced with too much paradox in their fic, decided to go elsewhere. So they sent their fic to fictionalley.org and hoped beyond all hell that Draco Malfoy wouldn't find it.

THE END

Of the Authors, if Draco comes back...

EPILOGUE:

Supertuna is after you, everybody. I couldn't stand it, so I sent it to YOU. When you see Supertuna, run like hell and eat carrots, cos it's not fun to be tuna, kids! But it helps when playing park bench.