Categories > Original > Fantasy > MegaMistake2 Reviews
Fanfiction.net has an extraordinarily bad day, and sends his cousin a birthday present.
The world ends with a lazy teenager who forgot his cousin’s fourteenth birthday.
I anxiously messaged my best friend, hoping he’d have something to say.
[Fanfiction.net (FFN) messaged Pottermore! (PM)]
FFN: Oh my God.
FFN: WHAT DO FOURTEEN YEARS OLDS EVEN LIKE?!!?!
PM: Like I know, mate.
PM: Get her a...
FFN: A horse.
FFN: A. Horse.
FFN: Where am I going to find a horse?
PM: Sorry, mate.
PM: Just tryin’ to help you out.
Oh, Pottermore. I met him about three years ago, and we’ve been bros ever since. We both love Harry Potter. Like, PoMo’s a freak. He knows everything there is to know. Unfortunately, he doesn’t ship anybody. Isn’t the point of new things to ship? I don’t get it. I ship everything. All the time. All the time! Twenty-four-seven! So awesome!
PoMo sends me another message.
PM: Why don’t’cha ask Youtube?
PM: She’s a girl.
FFN: NOPE NOPE NOPE. >:0:
FFN: NO WAY. YOU KNOW WHAT SHE’S LIKE.
PM: Just ‘cause she’s a little insane in the mainframe doesn’t mean she won’t help.
PM: Wait a tick.
FFN: (Enough with the Britishisms, says FFN.)
PM: Shut your face. Get her a copy of Homestuck!
I had no idea what he was talking about.
FFN: What even.
PM: No, no no! It’s free an everything! Just download it off of the internet!
PM: No. Find it yourself. Tosser.
I laughed at that. Pottermore is sort of an idiot sometimes, but at least he’s honest and respects my language issues.
One quick internet search and download later, I was set. A list of rules and Terms of Agreement came up, but I got rid of those. Like, really, who needs rules, right?
“I do what I want! I am an independent person!” I shout to nobody in particular, pushing off my desk, rolling back in my desk chair.
My chair caught on something, and tipped backwards. I fell backwards, hitting my head on my bookshelf.
Agony! Horrible Agony! My head! I have done nothing!
Rolling into a crouch, I examine my room. A wire runs across my room, set up to trip my chair.
My sister would think this is hilarious. She probably did it, too. I’ll fight about this later.
I flick my brown hair back over my eyes, and run a hand over my snakebite piercings. I’m proud of them. They show that I’m different from the rest of society. I am an individual.
Pulling the illegally-downloaded game into a email, I send it to my cousin with a quick “Hey, Happy Birthday didn’t forget this year!”
(I have forgotten in years previous. Not this year, though! WHOO!)
About fifteen minutes after I send my cousin the Homestuck thing, I realize I’ve got no idea what I’ve actually sent her. What if it’s like, porn or something?
I AM OFFICIALLY THE WORST COUSIN EVER. WHAT HAVE I DONE.
I quickly try to message Pottermore, but he’s not online. Ahh! I’m screwed! Who do I ask?
A quick thwack! sounds to my left. A knife is imbedded in my computer desk, complete with a note.
Pulling the knife out of my desk, I read the note. “Get off the computer. Go outside. From your sis.”
This is war.
Yanking open my door, I storm forwards, and-
My sister gets a swift roundhouse kick to the back and takes my knees out.
“You haven’t been practicing.”
“I have things to do. Not now.”
“No slam poetry. No editing. No slashing, plot bunny slaying, nothing! I am not raising you to be a failure, Fanfiction!” she shouts. Black hair caught back in a ponytail, red pants, white tee-shirt, and Pen-sword ready to strike, my sister is pissed at me.
“Fictionpress. Go away. I am working.”
Fictionpress swings the Pen-sword around in an arc. “Unarmed! No fair!” I shout, leaping to my feet and dodging her attack.
“I have to visit your cousin. Fight before I go?” she asks, no, not asks, commands, that I fight her. The nerve! The very nerve!
Opening up my sylladex, I press my finger to the touch screen, selecting my very own Pen-sword. My sis hath trained me well, and Reviewer’s Revenge serves me better than Mightier Than The Written Word does her.
I block her first parry, but she leaps over me. I twist, expecting a sucker-stab, but my sis does the only thing reasonable. She slashes the light with Mightier Than The Written Word, and everything goes dark.
“Sugar Honey Ice Tea,” I spit, backing into the wall.
“Got that right!”
My sister plants her foot into my sternum, and with a street-fighter worthy kick, sends me through the drywall.
“Pathetic, FFN. I’ll expect you to do better when I come back.”
“Urrrg. ‘Kay. Whatever you say, Fictionpress.”
My sister spends six months of the year at my cousin’s, looking after her, but the other six months of the year, she looks after me. She’s a cool big sister, and she taught me the ancient fighting style of slam poetry, along with the useful skills of editing, Pen-sword strife, and grammar.
Shaking drywall dust out of my hair, I notice that somebody’s been trying to message me. Youtube. Not dealing with her right now. Last thing I need is Schizophrenic Crazypants screaming at me.
Slogging back to my room and regretting my instant loss, I log on to check up on Homestuck.
I get a whole bunch of weird stuff, like that it ends the world. Not just one report, but a lot. Flipping through more pages, I hear stuff like “Alternate Timelines”, “Heroes”, and “Extremely High Mortality Rate”. What is this?
[Fanfiction.net (FFN) messaged Ficwad (FW)]
FFN: Hey, chick-cousin.
FW: WHAZZUP, MY UNICORN BRO?
FW: Awesome program you sent me! running it rgiht now!
FFN: STOP. DON’T DO IT.
FFN: DESTROY THAT DISK.
FW: yeah, no, don’t think so.
FW: i’ve already downloaded stuff for it.
FFN: What kind of stuff?
FW: like machincal stuff! i’ve made these cool crystal stuff, and i got them all shaped.
FW: sez i get to make stuff to. awesome! can’t wait!
FW: i’ve also got some sort of countdown. it says I need a server player. will you be my server player?
FFN: Okay. What’s the countdown mean?
FW: i’ve got 3 min 14 secs. Sex, lolz.
FFN: Censorship, FW. Countdown to what?
FFN: FICWAD! OH MY GOSH, YOU OKAY?
No answer. Oh, Sugar Honey Ice Tea I’ve killed my cousin. Who’d know what to do about this? I try Pottermore, but he doesn’t answer.
Who’d help me now?
Only one person I’ve got. I swallow my pride and message Youtube.