Filing cabinet of Jicky and Jet

The snake And The Rose.

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 07:11:18 GMT

Jicky

Jet

Fernanda Cortez

Diclaimer: This story can be found at http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2346536/1/ It is titled The Snake And The Rose and was written by suncloud10. The PPC is used with permission and Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. And bases are by If looks could kill

In the PPC cafeteria two agents sat eating – or attempting to eat – their meal. The younger, brunette agent poked hers with a spork.

“What is that?” Jicky asked as the glob of food wobbled threateningly.

Jet peered at the identical blob on her own plate. “Tantaflaff, I think. From HFA. We always seem to get their leftovers.”

Jicky groaned. “Better than Mystery Meat, I guess.”

The redhead snorted. “There’s nothing mysterious about it. Everybody knows it’s Sue meat.”

Her partner shrugged. “The mini’s have to eat something, I suppose.” An idea seemed to strike her. “Ow!”

“What?” Jet asked indifferently as if she couldn’t be bothered caring about what Jicky was up to now.

“I was struck by an idea, but anyway…” her voice rose. “Celbrian! Celbrian, that’s a good mini.”

Following the sound of her voice a mini-balrog appeared. Jicky grinned and Jet leant forward to see what crazy experiment the brunette was going to try now.

“Here, Celbrian, would you like some nummy Tantaflaff? Mmmmmm,” she spoke down to the flaming mini while zooming her heaped up spork around like an airplane. Minutes later, to Jet’s amusement, she received a face-full of hot, melting Tantaflaff.

“I take it that means ‘get stuffed’,” she said dryly as Jicky wiped the mess of her face. Her partner just grinned.

“We’ll bring her back some Sue next time. Otherwise she won’t come near us again.”

“That’s a bad thing?” Jet asked sarcastically.

Jicky became indignant. “Celbrian is my mini. Don’t speak about her like that.”

They fell silent until Jicky began to talk again. “So why do they feed us this, anyway? I mean it’s obvious that we work better if we’re feed and if we eat this stuff we’ll most likely die. Fanwriters at the OFU’s can be brought back to life but we can’t.”

Jet lifted an eyebrow and sampled another mouthful of food. Her face paled drastically. “Are you so sure of that?” she coughed. “It seems that the Plants wouldn’t waste agents by letting them just die.”

Jicky shrugged again. “Maybe. But they have to know that we always get food in our missions anyway. The store doesn’t sell more than chocolate bars anyway.” Her face lit up. “Hey, do you think that’s it? They want us to be hungry so that we’ll go on missions just to get food!”

Jet looked thoughtful. “That’s a very Slytherin thing to do,” she said almost admiringly. Then she looked down at her plate. “Or maybe they just don’t care.”

Jicky looked at her plate too. “Yeah, maybe that’s it.”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with you.”

The smaller agent grinned. “It could be worse,” she began and everyone that heard her turned towards her with horror on their faces. The closest ones began to leap. “You could have two partners,” she finished before she was buried under the agents that had wanted to stop her challenging the Ironic Overpower.

Jet rolled her eyes and stood. This was almost a common occurrence, although Jicky’s predictions changed. “I am going to the store,” she announced to the air in front of herself.

“Mmmf,” came a sound within the dogpile of agents. “Ge’mme a bottle?”

“Why,” Jet began slowly, dreading the answer, “do you need a bottle?”

“To collect Sue Blood.” Came the reply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Jet considered this. It’s not so bad. “You can buy Sue blood,” she informed her partner, still talking to the air and not the sprawled heap at her feet.

“Want fresh stuff,” Jicky mumbled as she attempted to heave herself out from underneath another assassin.

Jet shrugged and left.

When she returned to their RC, carrying chocolate, bleeprin and the requested bottle, Jicky was already there.

“Hey, you’re back! Great, cuz I was beginning to think that I’d have to go alone.”

“We have a mission?” Jet asked interestedly as she put away the fresh supplies.

“Yup, it’s pretty nasty.” Jicky wrinkled her nose.

“Oh?” Jet intoned, her interest peaked. She picked up her satchel and pulled out the remote activator. “Shall we?”

They entered the portal and came out in the Hogwarts Great Hall, dressed as students. There was no one about.

“Shouldn’t there be people here?” Jicky asked in confusion. “Shouldn’t there be something here?”

“Lack of description,” Jet said, scanning the words. Her hands rose to her ears seconds before an authors note boomed out.

My Notes
The year is 2005, and the characters you know at Hogwarts are in their sixth year. However, there is a new edition to the group, a wallflower with fairly good looks by the name of Fernanda Cortez.

“Ick,” Jicky described as it finished. “We haven’t even started the fic,” she complained, “and there’s already time-continuum disruption, and a Mary Sue.”

“Yes,” Jet said, looking thoughtful, “if everyone is in their sixth year, who is teaching?”

Jicky paused, then burst out laughing.

“Yes?” Jet asked coolly, raising an eyebrow in her partner’s direction.

“Just imagining all the teachers in sixth year. Would Dumbledore already have a beard, do you think?”

They wandered over to where the Sue was standing in front of Draco. She had no speaking parts so they held little fear that she would point the out.

“This is an extremely dull fic,” Jet stated after listening to Draco’s inner-monologue of how pretty the Sue was. “No one does anything and yet she still manages to put Draco so out of character that I don’t even need a CAD to tell.”

“She makes so many mistakes too,” Jicky stared at the words, eyes unfocused, “in the first few sentences she is standing in front of Draco and in the last one he goes off to find her. Honestly.”

“Let’s just kill her.”

“Okay,” Jicky said cheerfully, bringing out the wand she had found in her robes. “Can I?”

“I suppose,” Jet allowed grudgingly.

They cornered the Sue in an out of the way, undescribed corridor. She was practically the only thing that had been described and it had been very over done.

“Fernanda Cortez,” Jet began, “you have been charged with being a Mary Sue, sending Draco out of character, making time/continuum damages to Hogwarts, making so many grammar and spelling mistakes I wont list them, having an extremely dull fic in which the only plot is Draco loving you, not keeping track of where you are supposed to be and pissing off my partner and me. You are sentenced to die.”

Jicky happily froze her and pulled out a dagger. Leaning against one wall Jet looked over in interest.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

Jicky held up the bottle. “Sue Blood,” she explained while making a few cuts to the Sues body.

Jet shrugged, if Jicky wouldn’t tell her, then so be it. “What will we do with it?” she said motioning towards the soon-to-be corpse.

“Celbrian can have her. We haven’t brought our darling mini any treats in ages.”

“Your mini,” Jet refuted. “I won’t have anything to do with it.”

“Aww,” Jicky said as she capped the bottle, “don’t be angry, she didn’t mean to burn your papers.”

“Those papers were a goodfic. Do you have any idea how hard those are to find?”

“Yes,” Jicky said dryly, “I do work here, you know.”

Jet sniffed. “Therefore you should know that there can be no forgiveness.”

Jet moved forward and, using her wand, decapitated the Sue. She did like to keep reminders of missions and she hadn’t had any pretty heads lately. Her shelf was getting rather boring.

Jicky shrugged, tiring of the argument that she was on the verge of losing. She grabbed the Remote Activator from her partner and opened a portal into their office.

“You are not dragging that in there,” Jet said crisply. “You’ll get Sue Blood all over the floor.”

“All right, all right, your highness.” Jicky sighed. “Celbrian!” she called. The mini appeared quickly. “How’s my little darling? Have a nice plump Sue for dinner, love.”

The mini-balrog did.

“That is disgusting,” Jet said after a minute to the chorus of ripping sounds and the smell of burning flesh.

“I thought you liked torturing Sues?” Jicky asked puzzled.

“No not that.” Jet sighed. “The way you speak to it. That’s disgusting.”

Jicky rolled her eyes. “You just hate it that I have a pet and you don’t.” She stuck out her tongue but hastily pulled it back in as the Sue’s finger went sailing past.

Jet flushed. “I am not,” she hissed. “I wouldn’t want a nasty, little, fiery rat like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Jicky agreed completely unconvinced. “Well ‘that nasty, little, fiery rat’ is finished.”

“Good,” Jet said and stomped back into the control room.

“Uh, hi?” a new voice asked. “Are you Jicky or Jet?”

Whatever happened to Kid Flash?

Sun, 30 Jan 2005 22:47:48 GMT

Jet.

Jicky.

Disclaimer: I own only Jicky and Jet. The teen Titans are property of DC comics and they story PPCed can be found here:
http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/story.php?no=31735
The dolls were created by me but the bases are property of If looks could kill

In the PPC HQ cafeteria, a large portal (or perhaps it was many small ones) opened and deposited a large percentage of the assassin population. There was a low hum of conversation as they all spread out to go back to their respective control rooms.

“That was … interesting,” Jicky summarized as she dropped into ‘her’ chair, in RC #3021. Said chair was a giant, red, stuffed armchair that looked suspiciously like it ought to have belonged in the Gryffindor common room.

Jet glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “You do have such a way with words,” she said sarcastically.

Jicky flipped her middle finger at her partner. “Whatever,” she said as she tapped the keys on the keyboard. “Oh lookie, it’s already up: Woodsprite" she browsed the mission report for a few minutes.

“Sane?” Jet commented from where she was reading over her partner’s shoulder. “Should we be insulted?”

Jicky considered this, “Well…” she cast a look at the shelves that contained Jet’s head collection and her own pile of randomly pilfered ‘stuff’, “I think it’s objective. Compared to others in HQ we’re sane, but compared to others outside HQ we’re not. I mean, practically all agents are kleptomaniacs, so I‘m not really unique or anything.” She frowned. “And you! You’re always calm. It’s crazy. You’re not a Vulcan are you? I might not know much Star Trek, but you don’t look like one.”

“I’m not a Vulcan,” Jet said dryly, settling back into her own Gryffindor contraband chair.

“So what are you then?” Jicky asked.

And really, Jet thought, that was far too good to pass up. “I’m just a figment of your imagination.”

Jicky stared at her, wide eyed, for a moment. “Don’t,” she instructed firmly. “Don’t say something like that with a straight face. I might believe you.” She hesitated, then reached forward and poked her partner in the shoulder. An incredibly relieved expression worked its way across her face.

“Had doubts for a minute?” Jet asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” Jicky said emphatically, waving her arms around. “You should know better. This is Headquarters; things like that are entirely possible here!”

This appeared to placate her partner who then moved over to her head collection and began rearranging the jars.

After a few minutes of staring at the computer screen waiting for a beep, Jicky realized something very important. “Where the heck is Celbrian?” she asked, referring to her mini-balrog. The metal cat basket in the corner, which usually housed the fiery demon, was empty.

Jet didn’t even look up as her partner hunted around the room as if there was anyplace that a fiery mini could hide in the tiny room. She didn’t even twitch as, the exact second Jicky reached the door, the computer let out an enormous beep.

{BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP}

“HAH!” Jicky crowed, ready to go on another mission as soon as possible.

She changed her tune however after reading the mission brief. “What?! Is this even in our jurisdiction?”

That gained an elegant snort from her partner. “You know as well as I do that our departments mean nothing. They just send us what ever they want to send us.”

“Yeah, but look…” she gestured at the screen. “ I don’t know anything about comic books.”

“Comic books?” Jet repeated as she moved to look at the screen. “Teen Titans? It’s been a while since I read those. I didn‘t think that the PPC dealt in comics, given the difficulty there is in establishing continuity.”

“You read comics?” Jicky goggled before laughing, “You, Miss-I-only-read-quality-literature. That’s priceless.”

“Shut up,” Jet said irritatedly as a faint blush spread across her cheeks. “It was years ago.”

“Sure,” Jicky smirked, glad to be the one laughing for once. “You ready?” she asked as she set the disguises to ’super villain’ and brought a portal into existence.

Jet picked up her bag and moved through without answering. She really didn’t know why she put up with that annoying little girl.

As they entered the Teen Titans Tower (dressed in something tight, black and heroish looking) Jicky looked around thoughtfully.

After a few minutes, Jet’s patience gave out. “What?” she snapped.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jicky asked innocently even if she was aware of the answer.

Jet took a minute to look around. She scowled and glared at her partner for picking it up when she couldn’t. “Write it down as a charge,” she said with ill grace as she picked up a curiously flat cup. It looked fine from one side but from the other it was strangely two-dimensional.

“Okay,” Jicky said agreeably as she got out her pen and pad, “what should it be, bad grammar or bad formatting?”

Jet shrugged, uncaring, “Put it down as both.” The author seemed to have a fear of the space bar so wherever there was punctuation there was no space, causing the compression. She set the cup back down and watched with amusement as Jicky filched it and stuck it in her bag.

“Here comes Kid Flash,” Jicky noted as she glanced at the words. They both faded into the shadows and watched as the debriefing went on.

"I've got here as soon as I've could,Guys.",said Wally,while he was catching his breath."What's up?"

“Wally? Out of breath?” Jet whispered incredulously as the story unfolded in front of them. “That’s… ugh.” She saw the confused way her partner was looking at her, “He’s Kid Flash, the speedster,” she explained.

Jicky wrote down ‘mangling with a characters biology’ as the closest match she could think of.

"We've just recieved a call from the NYPD,who in turn had recieved an anonymous tip about the Fearsome Five planning on hitting the Metropolitan Museum,where the most wonderous treasure on Earth,the Richardson Ruby is being placed on public display.",answered the team's leader,Robin,after he had allowed the ruby's image to appear on the large computer screen."If we don't stop them,they'll use the ruby for a far more sinister purpose."

“You gotta love those anonymous tips, they’re a great dues ex machina,” Jicky snarked. She didn’t know this fandom, she didn’t really know much about vigilantes at all but she could guess that this wasn’t how things really went.

“Considering it isn’t mentioned again…” Jet let the comment hang as her partner scribbled something else down.

After listening to an inane argument about what could be down with a ruby Jicky whispered to her partner, “Look out there’s a…”

“… placement shift,” Jet finished as she picked herself up of the museum floor.

“That’s odd,” Jicky said whilst frowning at her CAD, “there’s nobody here.”

Jet was quick to find the problem, “Damn, we’re too late; the WallySue is already boinking them.”

“What?” Jicky yelped, “but we haven’t had the scene where he gets his magical sex change yet.”

“That’s the problem,” Jet hissed. “Quick, get the Remote activator before the police see us.”

Jicky fumbled with the device for a second before calling up a portal back to the Titan’s Tower.

"Aaaahhhh,yes!That's it!",said Wally,while Kory was carressing her suddenly firmed breasts and after Dick had placed his stone hard dick inside Kory's asshole."Touch me!Touch me there!Aaaahhhh

“Dammit, did you have to land us in the middle of a sex scene?” Jet glared at her partner who looked very contrite. “A very bad sex scene,” she amended.

“I didn’t know,” Jicky winced as the acts in front of her continued regardless of the extra watchers. Normally she wasn’t averse to ogling the various (and usually hot) people who she saw naked but right now that was the last thing on her mind (even if that Robin was eyecandy).

“Whatever. Let’s just grab the Sue, find the real Wally, and get out of here.” Jet said as she prepared to launch into the fray to grab their victim.

“Wait,” Jicky said urgently, “They’ll be finished in a minute then you can get her.”

Jet nodded, that sounded better than having to pry a naked Sue away from naked canons who were under said Sues control while they were having sex.

And after they had snuggled up to each other,Dick,Kory and W had had fallen asleep within their naked arms.

“Now!” Jet called as she leapt forward, snagged the Sue and escaped through the portal her partner had created.

They landed in an abandoned warehouse, though the Sue had her head smacked accidentally on a beam and was knocked unconscious.

“So where would the real Wally be?” Jicky asked as she nonchalantly bound the Sue with enough rope to make the end result resemble a mummy.

“I don’t know, give me the remote and I’ll go find him,” Jet said as she snatched the object in question.

“Hey! We’re supposed to stay… together,” Jicky finished with a sigh as she realized her partner had already gone. Maybe after this she could convince Jet to let her see the Bat cave?

Sitting down she began to wait.

About an hour (or so Jicky estimated) later Jet reappeared with a bound and gagged Kid Flash in toe. Taking note of her partner’s harried appearance she asked, “Where did you find him?”

Jet glared with such strength Jicky was briefly afraid (only for a moment though because the Flowers wouldn’t let Jet kill a functioning agent without some major penalization) and didn’t answer. The subject was dropped.

For about three seconds. Nobody had ever accused Jicky of having well developed self preservation skills. “Well?”

“The Speed Force,” Jet said through gritted teeth.

“I have no idea what that is,” Jicky admitted. “How did you find him?”

Jet smirked. “These come with super powers, you know,” she said, tapping a hand on her chest.

Jicky’s mouth dropped open. “No way!” she squawked. “No way! You could have told me that before!”

“You should have known. You were the one who set the disguises,” Jet replied. “It’s not my fault you didn’t. Now wake up the Sue,” she instructed.

Jicky pulled out her knife and rapped the hilt on the Sue’s head. The Sue let out a groan and immediately Jicky began rattling of the charges.

“Sue, you are here-by charge with the following: Replacing an existing canon character (Wally West), mangling with an existing characters biology, mangling of the English language, bad grammar and formatting, abundant use of capitalization (yelling doesn’t need to be in capitals) and royally pissing off of PPC agents.”

With that she pounced on the Sue and began to hack of it’s head. Decapitating a person wasn’t as easy as in the movies, Jicky reflected; there was too much gristle and tendons and stuff to make one big sweep. As the blood splashed everywhere (urple sparkles and all) and the Sue died, Wally West began to wake up.

By the time he was fully conscious there was no one in the warehouse but himself; although there was a nasty coloured splash a few feet away from him.

The Sue’s body was dumped in the Bludhaven harbour (nobody would notice an extra body there) and her head was carefully bagged and ready to be taken back to its new formaldehyde home.

As they stepped through the next portal Jet looked around in confusion. “This isn’t HQ,” she said shrewdly.

“Nope,” Jicky replied as she whipped out her camera and began taking pictures. “I need some souvenirs.”

“This is the Bat cave, it’s not like you can see anything down here.”

“So? How many people can say they’ve been in the Batcave?”

“Probably all the assassins working in the Batverse?” Jet replied irritably whilst looking round carefully. She kept an eye on her partner, just to make sure Jicky didn‘t try and steal anything. “Can you hurry up?”

“Nope. You’ve got your head so lemme have a little fun.”

“Fun,” Jet sneered, “Whatever. I just don’t want to be caught by the Bat. You know that once the Sue is dead it’s easier for them to see us.”

“Easier, sure,” Jicky replied uncaringly still snapping pictures. “But we still have a little protection.”

“Won’t help us.” Jet said pessimistically.

“Oh, all right,” Jicky sighed and gave in.

“Thank you,” her partner said primly as she stepped through the portal into their control room. “Now go have a shower, you stink.”

Never Wander

Sun, 05 Dec 2004 04:32:56 GMT

The Agent

The Sue
For your viewing pleasure the dress has been changed to a style that is easier on the eyes.

The original story can be found at: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2156224/1/
Obligatory apologies to the author, but really, the only good Sue is a dead Sue.

Disclaimer: Duinia belongs to Tru Eve, her author, and LotR belongs to JRR Tolkien. Bases for the dolls are from: If looks could kill

___

[Beep, Beeeeeep, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP]

“All right, all right, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jet said crossly as she moved the short distance to the console. Her partner was still away doing a mission who-knew-where but it wasn’t uncommon for teams to be split up if there was too much work to be done. In HQ there was always too much work.

She looked at the read out, blinked, then looked at it again.

“Okay…” she drawled, relieved that it wasn’t that bad; it would be easy enough to do on her own.

She spun on her heel and picked up her bag. It was already packed; no seasoned agent bothered to unpack anything.

“Now, let’s see… she stays in Rivendell so I guess I get to be an elf.” A devious smirk plastered itself to her features as she talked on, unaware that there was nobody near to hear her.

A quick thump on the keyboard produced a shimmery portal and a few seconds later Control Room #3021 was empty.

___

Jet arrived in Rivendell in time to see the Sue make her way up the stunning marble stair. It was an amusing sight watching the Sue try and climb up the huge stair.

“And that is why ‘s’ is your friend,” Jet murmured as she pulled out her notebook. “One charge of Bad Grammar coming right up.”

“Woah!” Came a commanding shout

Jet shook her head, “How can ‘Woah’ be a commanding shout? It’s an exclamation fer’chris’sake.” She jotted down another charge of mangling the English language, then for good measure she added ‘Causing a canon character to use modern slang.’

“Where, in Illu'vatar’s name are you going dressed like that?

“I think we have a mini,” Jet said in a sweet sing-song voice as she narrowed her eyes.

Elrohir started speaking but the Sue blew him off, then pretended she had been witty.

“Ungracious bitch,” Jet mumbled. “You aren’t worth the shit on his boots.” She scribbled something in her book that looked more like ‘poor elf’ than any actual charge but as she was alone on this mission there was no one to tell her off for it.

She rushed to her room, shed her soiled clothes and found a bath already drawn. Alright, there are always wonderful benefits to be treated royally, she noted. It had been over a century ago when she had first appeared on King Elrond’s doorstep, orphaned, alone, and with only one possession besides the clothes on her back: a letter from her mother with one sentence scrawled in ancient Elvish: “Rivendell of Elves”

“Whaa…?” Jet stared as the sue managed to mangle several cannon aspects in one sentence. “Turning Elrond into a King,” she scribbled. “Making Rivendell have a doorstep, and another count of bad grammar. What the hell does ‘Rivendell of Elves’ mean anyway?”

Waiting for her partner to answer the rhetorical question made Jet feel very depressed; it wasn’t half as fun to chase a Sue without someone else to snark to.

She added ‘pissing me off’ to the charge list and felt better.

“Uh…” she began only to be cut off by:

The door to Arwen’s suite burst open and her friend posed dramatically, “What do you think?” Duinia asked from the doorway. The dress was long and sculpted perfectly to match her shape, while not revealing too much. It was white and red and black all melded together into a material that slipped across her skin like liquid, framed by draping bells at the end of each sleeve and a V neckline that showed only enough to attract any male’s attention… and hold it. Her brown, gentle curls were kept at bay only by a shining golden head piece that shown out against her porcelain skin, her face paint only accenting the beauty that was already there.

“Oh,” Jet finished as she landed with a thump in Arwen’s rooms. “Space time distortions,” she added to the list then whistled, “You are really clocking up the charges, girl.”

Then she looked up and caught sight of the Sue's dress. Jet whimpered, a sound that she immediately denied making. “Red, white and black?” she asked in a pained whisper. “That’s awful. That must be a charge, ‘mixing colours,’ or ‘using urple’ or something.”

Jet scrambled for her remote control before she was caught in another time-space distortion. She ended up in foyer, where Legolas’ and Duinias first romantic encounter would take place. After this she would be free to dispose of the Sue; she wouldn’t even have to listen to Legolas’ whinging that he wasn’t good enough for her.

“Elrohir said you wished to speak with me?”

“And so it begins,” Jet whispered as she stood in one of the non-described corners.

“Ah… well, yes. That’s right.” She avoided his intense gaze, “You’ll be staying more than the usual five days, correct?” When he nodded, she continued, “I was wondering, or rather, I was hoping you’d assist me with my archery… my aim has been fraying, and nothing any Elf here has done has changed the issue. I assumed that if anyone could aid me, it would be you.”

He smiled, showing visible relief as he began to laugh gently, adjusting his formal white tunic.

Duinia paused and looked at him, somewhat annoyed. When the laughter continued she crossed her arms across chest and her deep purple eyes sparked with dangerous fire, “What exactly is so funny, friend?’ She asked coldly.

Legolas turned to her and smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders and jostling her slightly to shake out her annoyance, “Nothing dear one, you just had me worried that it was something far more serious.”

She feigned shock and anger, “And what, my Prince, do you consider more serious than my current problem?”

Apparently, he wasn’t prepared to answer that, as his eyes immediately began to search the intricately detailed ceiling above them. Her continued silence, however, told him that she wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Ah… well…” He glanced at her, careful to avoid those treacherous eyes of hers, “I was afraid it was more along the lines of… ah, you-finding-a-lover” His last words fell out too fast into a messy pile.

“Ewww.” Jet looked at the messy pile on the floor. “I’d hate to be the one who had to clean that up.”

After that there was an encounter with Elrohir, and another attempt by the Sue to be witty, which failed immensely.

Jet followed the Sue out into the gardens. This was the best part of the mission; the part that all the assassins lived for.

“Duinia,” she said stepping out of the shadows with an arrow pointed at the Sues heart. “You are here-by condemned to death by the organisation known as the PPC for the following charges: Bad Grammar, mangling of the English language, causing a canon character to use modern slang, creating the mini-balrog Illu’vatar, turning Elrond into a king (that is, changing the structure of an existing canonical society) changing the architecture of Rivendell, several counts of space-time distortions, mixing colours that should not rightly be mixed (Red, white and black, are you blind, girl?), using disgusting metaphors, causing Legolas to act like a lovestruck human teen (he’s an elf! Wise and all that jazz) and pissing me off.”

“You can’t do this to me,” the Sue wailed, her beautiful voice rising like the song of nightingales. “I am Elrond’s adopted daughter, Arwen’s…” Whatever she was going to say was cut off as the arrow embedded itself in her chest.

“Oh, yea, the only reason Elrond took in Aragorn is because the Dunedain are relations of his. You are a no-good Sue that should have been killed at birth.”

As the life faded from the Sues eyes Jet took out a large sword and hacked her perfect head off.

Placing the head in a brown sack she had brought for just that purpose she opened a portal and dumped the body in one of the lower tunnels in the mines of Moria. Orcs would find it soon no doubt.

Humming Jet returned to the HQ ready to preserve the head and add it to her collection.