890: Quarter Quell Sequels – The End, Chapters 2, 3, 4, and 5

Title: Quarter Quell
Author: L.Q. Brooks
Media:  Books/Movies
Topic: Ice Age/Hunger Games/Underland Chronicles/Michael Vey/Percy Jackson and the Olympians/The Hobbit/???/Alpha and Omega
Genre: Family/Suspense
URL: The End: Chapter 2
URL: The End: Chapter 3
URL: The End: Chapter 4
URL: The End: Chapter 5
Critiqued by Herr Wozzeck

Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome back to this series.

*flops down on the couch*

Four chapters. Four chapters in one fucking installments. This is gonna be one hell of a doozy.

But fuck it, I can’t deal with this shitty story anymore. By now, I just want out. So if the story won’t let me out, I’m going to just bull rush through the end of it.

*claps hands together*

So let’s not waste any time, shall we? Let’s finish this sucker off!

We start with this:

Manny woke up to a blinding light, sort of what Sid had faced not too long ago. He turned his head immediately and looked sternly into the eyes of the salt and pepper girl, who was picking up a small tablespoon of broth in a small cup.

The salt and pepper girl? Um…

NO! NO, GODDAMMIT, NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!

*runs and hides*

“You! You brought my friends to their death place! Why?” he demanded.

Manny, do you really think an explanation is going to solve your current crisis? I mean, you’re in this shitty fanfic, why do you think you were brought here?

The girl looked up at the mammoth, and he could see there were tears in her eyes. She wiped them and said, “You don’t understand, Manfred. It’s much more than that.

“You see… Orrin Hatch is secretly Spiderman!”

“They captured us. Mareth, a man with only one leg, Ichabod, a man as old as time itself, Kayla, a girl who was put in an orphanage at the age of 3, due to a plane crash that killed her mother, father, and two sisters. Tranapple, a lady way overweight, and me, Virgil. I’m sorry I had to do that, but Hatch would kill me if I didn’t.”

So we have Mareth from the Underland Chronicles, Ichabod who may or may not be Ichabod Crane, some orphan I don’t give a shit about, some female expy of The Blob, and… this person.

You know, isn’t it kind of funny that this fic didn’t think to employ a vast majority of these characters well before this point? I mean, really dude, you had, what, six fucking installments to establish these guys as having a predicament before this point? And the only one you showed beforehand was Mareth, who gave no indication that this was happening to him.

Call me crazy, but I think this may just be a case of extremely lazy writing.

Manny couldn’t help feeling bad for Mareth, Ichabod, Kayla, Tranapple, and, most of all, Virgil. How had Hatch captured them? It must have been all in different places.

You feel bad for their predicament… which is why you immediately start thinking on the “how” more than the “what is their predicament like”. Smooth, Manny.

“Yes. Mareth, he stole from New York, New York.

Wait, so Mareth just returned to New York, New York after dealing with the wolves?

*hits buzzer*

And They Were Never Seen Again Count: 9

Unless you explain otherwise, I’m calling shenanigans.

Ichabod was stolen from Norfolk, England.

Normally, I would complain about how stupid that would be, but you know what? If this means that The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is not involved in all this, fuck it. I’ll take it.

Kayla was stolen from Columbus, Ohio.

And not the various vampire characters that were never mentioned again after the start of that third sequel. Speaking of which, actually…

*hits buzzer*

And They Were Never Seen Again Count: 10

Tranapple was stolen from Las Vegas, Nevada.

Oh dear, she’s not the fat girl from Showgirls, is she? I hope not: the last thing we need to verify this fic’s shittyness is for the confirmation to be given that the author somehow thinks that fucking Showgirls is a good movie for the right reasons.

And, I was stolen from Topeka, Kansas. I can read minds, you know.”

Wait, she can read minds? And her name is…

Oh fuck no.

*looks it up*

Oh thank God, her name isn’t Virgil in the Justice League cartoons! Thank. Christ.

They were both silent for a moment, then Virgil continued, “I’m sorry I have to do this. Hatch wants too…fatten you up, I cannot tell a lie. Then he’ll rip you open. If you get away or any of us five get away, I will be shocked immediately. Why me? That’s the same question I ask myself.”

So the villain’s evil plan that they were “building up” for six installments (and I use that term way more generously than I really should) basically amounts to “I wanna eat these guys”.

*hits buzzer*

No Parodies For This Count: 22

Manny took a sip of the broth and tasted the best thing he had had in his entire life. Chunky Noodle Soup, they called it.

*headdesk*

On the one hand, it would be cliché if Manny was being fed his own wife and daughter, and I bet that’s what he’s going for with a name like that. On the other hand, it doesn’t seem like Mr. Brooks would be desperate enough to fuck the character blob up even more than it’s already been fucked up.

Either way, this bit is still fucking stupid. So thanks for that, Mr. Brooks. Thanks.

When he went in for another bite, he looked up at Virgil’s still weeping face. He looked down at the broth and said, “Here. Have a taste.” The salt and pepper girl looked down at the soup and, even though Hatch would shock her painfully for it, she had only ever gotten a fourth of bread and a Dixie Cup of water for lunch. For breakfast and dinner she had nothing.

Well, I guess that would be a tiny diet, considering all the factory machines that are busy sawing away in the background right about now. Now if only there was some hot sausage and mustard…

She took a small sip when a ringing alarm went off. Virgil left the room, and another man came in.

He was carrying a small briefcase, and he had a black jumpsuit. He sat down his briefcase and stumbled into the chair Virgil had been sitting in only seconds earlier.

So these “minions” are playing musical chairs. You know what, I’ve seen dumber from this fic. Let’s just move on!

The mammoth studied the man carefully and asked, “Mareth?” The man smiled and nodded, but did not touch the cup of broth, to feed Manny. Instead he grabbed a small thing of medicine, and carefully put it on his hip, right where his leg had been cut off.

And that did… absolutely nothing, evidently. Either because Manny hasn’t lost any legs, or because Mareth had lost a leg at some point in the distant past and Mr. Brooks was too goddamn lazy to establish that before this point. Either way, that was pretty pointless.

When he was done he turned to the mammoth and smiled once more.

“What’s wrong with Virgil? She told me about your leg, and Ichabod’s age but, what about her?” Manny asked. “Oh, a tornado whisked away her home and she was left alone on her tiny farm with nothing but a seed for a tree, and a chicken egg. Nothing else. She had to take a sip of the raw egg each day just in order to stay alive.

*headdesk*

First of all, Mr. Brooks, you should not be trying to rip off The Wizard of Oz at this juncture. Your fic is already stupid enough without it. Second, how the fuck are you supposed to survive on just a single raw egg for [error: timeline not found]? I mean, that shit would rot eventually, right? And even if it didn’t, you’re talking about it being out in the open in fucking Kansas: wouldn’t that shit cook at some point? Third, so it whisked the farm away, but it didn’t do anything else? So why didn’t she just go to town or something? I’m sure she could’ve found something over there that would’ve been better than the raw egg! Fourth, what kind of tree did the seed plant? I mean, granted, I know it would take ages to grow anything with it, but if it were a fruit tree I could easily see her planting it! Fifth: if Manny already knew this information enough to recite it back at Mareth, then why the fuck did you have Manny ask in the first place? And how did he find out?

*headdesks onto buzzer*

No Parodies For This Count: 23

Then, Hatch, after he caught me and Kayla…you can guess.” Manfred softly nodded. “How long have I been asleep, Mareth?” “Oh, about six days. Long rest. No pills or anything.”

Sure, and next you’ll tell me that this fic was not written on a cocaine high.

Manny didn’t say anything, mostly because he, really, had nothing to say. Finally he came up with, “How, exactly, long do I have before I am fattened up and skewered?” The mammoth asked, softly shivering at the thought. “A day. I’m sorry, Manny, I don’t want you to hate me for this…” “No, I don’t, I understand. Virgil told me all about it.” Mareth nodded.

*headdesk*

God, all those fucking sequels, and the only reason the villain wants everyone dead is so he can eat them. I don’t even know what to say to that, that’s so incredibly stupid.

After at least an hour of being silent, thinking over everything, Mareth spoke once more to the prisoner that he had rather not imprisoned.

I’m sorry, Mr. Brooks, but I think you a word there…

“Manny, after an hour and a half a small bell goes off, as you heard with Virgil. Then, another person walks in. You’ll meet everyone, Virgil was your first one of the day. I don’t really know who is coming next, but, I must warn you, they are all not such as kind as Virgil and I. Kayla is, of course, but I don’t know when you will have her. When that bell goes off, I will leave and your next supervisor will come in.” Soon, ironically, a bell went off and Mareth stepped out of the room.

Okay, why the fuck is Hatch doing that? I just… Why, Mr. Brooks? Why would you subject us to this shit in the first place? I just… I can’t even…

*headdesk*

Kayla couldn’t have been more than thirteen. She was about Sid’s height, and maybe Wiress’ size around.

So she was somehow both as short as Sid, and the same size as Wiress. Well, I guess it’s never too late to introduce shapeshifters into Stupid Land.

So she was a pretty average looking girl, and she had more in common with Wiress than Manny ever believed.

Like her propensity towards being traumatized to the point of being unable to speak in coherent sentences!

After her mother, father, Brenda, and Michelle, had died in a plane crash, she had never been quite the same.

Hm… Y’know, speaking of propensities to being traumatized…

*hits buzzer five times*

Crayon Drawings On Cardboard Count: 24

And yes, I’m counting Ichabod and Tranapple in this buzzing, because let’s face it: they had just about the same thing going for them.

She didn’t even stay in the room for a very long time, and she left without her alarm going off. Finally, after 30 seconds of waiting, Mareth, Kayla, Virgil, Ichabod, and Tranapple all walked in and said in unison, “We’re tired of being bossed around by Hatch. We’re busting you, and your friends, out of here.

And of course, the fic forgets all its “woe is to these guys” bullshit and just decides to have them break out now. Because sudden turns of alliegance with no build-up to them are totally how you write stories, am I right?

*BAM*

Good Gravy, Mr. Brooks, what the fuck is wrong with you?

Anyway, after this, the chapter ends, and we get an author’s note.

AR: Thanks to KaylaDestroyer, I have made a success in this series,

*snerk*

Wait, so thanks to one reviewer who is the only person to consistently review the shit that you continually try to pass off as a fanfic, your fic is a success. You know, despite the fact that you don’t have very many reviews, favorites, or alerts listed on your fic’s information.

*BAM*

Sir, your fic is about as successful as The Adventures of Pluto Nash!

so I thanked you with putting you as a character in the last book. Hope you’re liking the story so far!

And there it is, ladies and gentlemen: the zenith of stupidity. Putting in your friend as a major character just because she supported your piece of shit fanfic. Whoop de frickin’ do.

*BAM*

Mr. Brooks, I get the feeling that you may just not know what the fuck you’re doing when it comes to writing. I mean, what’s next, is there gonna be some stupid Gravity Falls reference to open the next chapter?

“Onward, Aoshima!” which was the first thing that popped into Manny’s flabbergasted mind when they all decided they would risk their own lives to save the questers, which really meant a lot to the mammoth.

Wow. You know you’ve fucked up when even Mabel is trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.

I just… I don’t even know anymore.

Who knew he would be saved by the people who tried to fatten him up so their boss could skewer him?

Um, just about every cliché ever in this type of story? I mean, it made absolutely no sense, but—

It made absolutely no sense,

—and the fic acknowledges that!?

*BAM*

Great going, Mr. Brooks. Keep showing us why we should never, ever trust you with a keyboard ever again.

but it didn’t seem that any of them, which meant Mareth, Virgil, Kayla, Ichabod, and Tranapple, would take no for an answer.

Because reasons.

Tranapple looked around to see if he heard right. “Um, right, we’re all Aoshima, apparently.” Manny turned red in the face, more sheepish than he had ever been.

And apparently, Mr. Brooks forgot that the comedy of that situation came from the fact that Mabel was in the middle of a massive sugar high while she shouted that. So no, Tranapple, you don’t know what to do with that.

Also, Tranapple apparently changed genders when we weren’t looking.

“All right, well, enough chitchat, we can do that if we win the war.

WHAT FUCKING WAR IS GOING ON HERE!? This has just been nothing but a bunch of people running around like idiots while the plot sat on its ass for five fucking fanfics, and now there’s supposed to be some kind of epic war going on here!

*BAM*

Hey, Mr. Brooks, here’s an idea you might want to think about: conflict consists of stakes. We don’t have a sense of the stakes here! What the fuck is going on? Why is any of this important!? Jesus Christ, even in Twenty Warriors I tried to give a sense of the stakes. I kept invalidating those states ‘cause I was Herr Dumbass back then, but I at least tried to keep the stakes apparent throughout! And what do you do? You say “fuck the stakes, I do what I want!”

*BAM*

I just… I can’t even…

*headdesk*

Moving on!

Let’s move it, guys, before all the questers become roast pig, and rat food. Does no one, but me, care?

Everyone, say it with me:

“What do you THINK, doofus!?”

Let’s get on with it!” Ichabod exclaimed in his rickety and rigid old voice, that seemed as though it was an old plank of wood, that could break in half at any moment.

That’s a rather… odd metaphor to use, Mr. Brooks. I mean… Ichabod says stuff and we’re supposed to imagine it sounding like breaking wood? How would that even work…?

Mareth, who couldn’t very well run, was hoisted onto Tranapple’s back and they all ran out of the hospital room, and yet, no one, but Virgil, though even she forgot at that moment, knew where the feeding room was, so they could save Diego, Sid, and Buck.

*headdesk*

You know what? I’m not even going to question it at this point. Instead, Mr. Brooks, have this for the run-on sentence:

*BAM*

They didn’t have a lot of time, either, at that, but they had to burn time.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?

I mean, seriously, Mr. Brooks, do you have no idea how fucking vague that sounds? Come on! Get with the fucking program here!

Manny turned to his guardians as he said, “Do you know where they’ve got the wolves and the humans?” Virgil was the first to speak up. “The next hall to the right. Each is neighbors of hospital rooms.”

So the big bad has a bunch of hospital rooms in his domain. Unless this is an abandoned hospital, I call bullshit.

The six people rushed towards HALL 02B, where they had hidden Humphrey, Kate, Crash, Eddie, and the others. They glanced around for any sign of questers, and the first room they found held Crash and Eddie. “Alright, everybody! Let’s get them free!” Manny demanded, and they immediately followed his orders.

Oh, whoopee, these questers are getting freed. I’m totally invested in this. You can tell how invested I am by the sound of my monotone which will never ever reach a meaningful crescendo. Hooray.

*BAM*

Ichabod stumbled over to the bed, where the guardian was a person named Georgia, who was stolen from the Atlantic Ocean. No questions.

*BAM*

Mr. Brooks, whether or not you tell us not to ask questions is not the point. If you have to tell us not to ask what the fuck this random Georgia person is doing here, then maybe, just maybe, you might be doing something that is incredibly fucking stupid.

*BAM*

Good God, when will the stupid end!?

The old man finally reached the bed, when the entire hallway went up in flames.

You know what? I really, really want to rejoice the fact that this means everyone will burn to death, but I know better by now. There’s gonna be some stupid-ass Deus Ex Machina, everyone’s gonna live happily ever after… And it’s just gonna be stupid!

Is there nothing to save me from the stupid around here?

THIS IS THE VERY LAST NUT, SCRAT MY FRIEND
BUT IN THE MARK IT SHALL GO IN THE END OF THE END

Oh, thank God, it’s a Scrat segment! It’s not much, but screw it, I’ll take it!

What the hell did that mean?

Stupid, Scrat. Whatever the actual meaning is, it means stupid at the end of the day.

In the mark it shall go in the end of THE END? Alright, then. Scrat thought about marks. Marks…marks…marks…Nope, none came to mind when he thought about it? Marks of Secret? No, that was in New York. Well, where would the mark be?

It’s probably the mark inside the anus that the author pulled this entire series out of. Though, I dunno, I really don’t think I want to read how Mr. Brooks would describe Scrat crawling up an anus. That would constitute my nightmares for the next three weeks.

He needs your help!

Did you just have a little Dora the Explorer moment there?

Oh, wow. We just had a little Dora the Explorer moment there.

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAMS BUZZER*

No Parodies For This Count: 24

What the fuck is this? Is this fic that is presumably aimed at an audience of adults really so starved for ideas that it’s now going to fucking Dora the Explorer for ideas on what to write next!? I just… I can’t even… What in the fuck…?

*headdesk*

Just get it out of the way, please!

Hmm. Anyway, he needs your help! Scrat is telling me to say 20 letter words to pass the time while he is thinking. Alright.

acetylcholinesterase
adrenocorticosteroid
adrenocorticotrophic
adrenocorticotrophin
adrenocorticotropins
anthropocentricities
anthropomorphization
antiauthoritarianism
anticonservationists
antifluoridationists

Got it! Scrat knows what he’s gotta do!

Yeah, patrons, don’t try to figure out what the fuck the point of that was. ‘Cause trust me, that was just… well, you already saw me buzz it, so there you to.

Anyway, we then cut back to the main plot:

Virgil and Kayla screamed as they watch Ichabod’s jumpsuit catch on fire. No one would be dumb enough to go in there now!

What the hell are you blathering on about, fic? Anyone dumb enough to enter the fic did so whenever they entered the fic!

Finally, in desperation, he flung Crash and Eddie over to the others, and Manny caught them on his tusks. Ichabod stumbled over and planted a small kiss on Georgia’s cheek, and they died in each other’s arms. Ichabod: he was kind, old, wise, and brave. Did Manny expect him to go? Not really. But did he expect Swordneck, or Violet to go? Exactly.

*hits buzzer three times*

Pointless Death Count: 11

Crayon Drawings On Cardboard Count: 25

So long, Ichabod! I’m glad we knew you for the duration of one chapter, during which the characterization you were given was contradictory and stuff! Goodbye! Have fun in that malt shop in the sky!

“Keep it moving, keep it moving!” Mareth demanded, and they all started heading down the hall, screaming to everyone, “There’s a fire! Run for your lives! Meet us outside Elgen! I have a plan!”

Ten bucks says that plan is this:

Manny’s plan, of course, was quite simple. He would get to the feeding room and get Diego, Sid, and Buck, while everyone else evacuated from the fire.

Okay, great. Now where the fuck is the feeding room? Because you do remember that Mr. Brooks mentioned that nobody knows where it is, right?

Right?

*headdesks onto buzzer*

And They Were Never Seen Again Count: 11

Luckily no one was successfully hypnotized.

*frowns*

Wait, what? Since when had characters been getting hypnotized? ‘Cause I definitely don’t remember that!

Suddenly they changed paths and headed towards the mischief of rats room itself, and they would win the final battle.

Well thanks for spoiling the ending, Mr. Brooks, you talentless hack. You’d think that with two chapters left you’d have actually put a little suspense in there. But nope, that’s obviously not the case! Because screw tension and release! Nope, we’ll just play our cards early!

The feeding room wasn’t a very bad place. It was very well put together. Glass ceilings, walls, and floor. Behind a small glass wall was Diego, Sid, and Buck hanging from wires, and below them, at least 200 rats waiting to devour them.

Wait, so they weren’t feeding Hatch, but those 200 rats. Uh…

*headdesk*

No. Just, no. I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, ‘cause seriously. This is just… what the fuck do they want to stop these questers from doing!?

Virgil and Manny screamed from behind the wall, and looked for anything to get them into the rat cage. Then, an idea popped into Kayla’s head, and reached into her pocket, bringing out a small but effective rock. In one shoot, they had broken the glass wall.

Well, I’m sure glad Hatch didn’t use bulletproof glass like any half-decent person attempting to prevent escapes would. That would almost have made this whole thing impossible!

*headdesks onto buzzer*

No Parodies For This Count: 25

“Good idea, Kayla!” Manny told her, and she merely nodded. Tranapple bravely jumped through and grabbed onto a loose wire. He carefully reached for the animals’ paws, but it was no use. The fire had spread into the feeding room, Hatch appeared and flipped a switch, breaking the wires, and sending Diego, Sid, and Buck plummeting to their doom.

So wait. The fire spread into the room…  and that had no effect on the wires because Hatch flipped a switch anyway.

Ugh, what is wrong with this fic? Everywhere I turn, there is more stupid!

Ugh, I’m just glad this is the end of the chapter. Now, let’s see what Mr. Brooks says, shall we?

AR: You’re welcome. That’s all I really have to say. You’re welcome. Bye!

Right. Mr. Brooks, I know you may be slightly stupid, so let me spell that out for you: we weren’t yelling out to thank you, we were yelling because this fic is causing us physical pain!

*headdesk*

Jeez, and it’s just gonna keep on finding ways to get stupid, isn’t it?

*sigh*

Okay, what’s in the next chapter?

A warning to the people
The good and the evil
This is war
To the soldier, the civillian
The martyr, the victim
This is war

*reads ahead*

Oh hell no!

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAMS BUZZER*

No Parodies For This Count: 26

When the fuck did this turn into Now you’re thinking with portals? I just… really? You just posted complete song lyrics here to substitute for action. Really. You’re that fucking lazy.

*headdesk*

And it takes up most of the chapter, too! What the shit is this!?

*headdesk*

Yeah, yeah, so it’s two fucking pages of song lyrics, with the song being This is War by Thirty Seconds to Mars. I am going to do you guys a favor and just skip right to the end of it, whereupon we see this:

Those words seemed to be bursting through the air as Diego, Sid, and Buck fell.

*headdesk*

Good Jesus Christ with a side of Cincinnati chili. I’m just… I’m at a loss for words. I really am.

But soon, they would catch on fire, and they had to escape immediately.

Wait, weren’t they about to fall into a pit of ravenous rats? And weren’t they…? I dunno…?

*headdesks onto buzzer*

And They Were Never Seen Again Count: 12

Let’s just move on.

When they tried to get through the way, they quickly noticed that Hatch had already blocked it. “I’ll die here if I have to. But I’m not letting you escape either, if I do.” Tranapple, in a moment of bravery, grabbed onto Hatch’s shirt, looked out to the glass, and threw him out with the little strength she had.

So the big bad of this whole thing is killed by… being tossed out a window.

*headdesks onto buzzer*

No Parodies For This Count: 27

Seriously, we waited seven fucking installments for that? And mind you, this fic wasn’t even good!

When Hatch landed, he opened his eyes and found his boss staring sternly into his eyes. “Sir, I promise, just give me one last chance,” he tried to speak, but it was no use. His boss was carrying a bloody dagger, and Hatch knew exactly what was to happen. He closed his eyes and waited for his death.

Well, it looks like there was a man behind the man, and that furthermore said man behind the man acts really quickly when it comes to the original man failing. Dude, come on, how did you find out about Hatch’s failing so fast?

Wait, you got a telegram from the PCC, didn’t you?

Way up on the feeding room, the questers heard nothing but a big scream. Manny, from the vibration, was knocked into the wall, and one of the possums flew off his tusk.

Whoah, so Hatch’s death scream was so loud it blew a fucking wooly mammoth clear across the room when he wasn’t even in the same room!

*headdesks onto buzzer*

No Parodies For This Count: 28

Seriously, is it me, or is this buzzer apparatus about to overheat? It’s been getting a real workout this installment.

He flew into the mischief of rats, and the two possums, confusingly, chased each other until no one could tell who was who. One of them rushed out, while the other, with Diego and Sid, was left to rot.

You know what? I’m not even going to attempt to dignify that with any kind of analysis. ‘Cause honestly, I have no idea what the fuck just happened.

Anyway, we get a scene change, and then we jump to this:

When they got outside, there was almost nothing to look at, for most of it had gone up in flames.

If only we could say this exact thing about this shitty fanfic series…

Anyone in there had died, but Diego, Sid, and one of the possums were sure to be dead either way.

I’m not sure how “people that were left in there were gonna die” is somehow a contradiction of “these three people that were apparently left in there were gonna die”, but screw it, this fic stopped making sense halfway through the first installment. Clearly I’m a fool if I’m trying to make any sense of it now

All that was left of Elgen was a bunch of flames. Then, three mysterious figures came out of the fog, and no one could tell who, or what, they were. Patches of their fur had been burnt off, and the tallest one’s face was crooked, and the nose was broken. But their voices were undeniable.

“The war is won!” Diego exclaimed.

*sigh*

You know, on the one hand, this is hokey as fuck and not good storytelling at all. On the other hand, this means I don’t have to add more tics to the pointless death counter. ‘Cause seriously, that’s just… ugh!

Okay, that ends that chapter (yes, the song did take up that much space in the chapter). So what does the author’s note say this time?

AR: The war is won! The war is won! The war is won!

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM*

WHAT FUCKING WAR ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?!? This series consisted of nothing but a massive blob of characters going about doing nothing except dying in increasingly stupid ways while the villains just sat there being evil and generally doing nothing for four out of seven fucking fanfics! THERE WAS NO FUCKING WAR ANYWHERE UNTIL LITERALLY THIS CHAPTER, YOU MORON!!!!

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM*

WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS!? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!?!?!?

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAMS BUZZER*

No Parodies For—

*KABOOM*

*is thrown back*

Oh fuck, don’t tell me…

*runs over to the buzzer room*

Oh fuck, I blew up the buzzers for this fic! No! No!

–Three Hours Later…–

Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to salvage these things.

*shrug*

Oh well. There’s always next time.

*sigh*

So what’s left?

But whatever happened to Scrat? Well…

*braces for impact*

Scrat finally found the mark: the mark of wolves. He, also, soon found a way to put it into the mark in the end of THE END. Just stuff it in, mirroring the opening and the closing scene of Ice Age. There was a loud snap, crackle, pop, and then, without knowing it, Scrat just freed the other questers from Elgen.

Ladies and gentlemen, we followed Scrat across six installments of stupid scavenger hunt… and all the quest was meant to do was to provide closure to a fucking visual gag that doesn’t work in prose. Which freed the other questers from [Error:Location Not Found]. Because blue or something.

*headdesks onto buzzer*

Oh, right, buzzers don’t work right now. Oh well, I guess that’s what I should’ve expected.

*breathes in*

Just one more chapter of this shit to go, Herr. You’re almost there… You’re almost there… It’s not like he’ll pull a dance party ending out of his anus because he’s run out of way to—

“Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday Dear Peaches, Happy Birthday to You!” Yes, it was true, Peaches was already celebrating her 2nd birthday. Can you believe it? And guess what her first words were? Guess? I’ll tell you, then.

We are, we are
Not your ordinary fami-li-ly
But we can all agree that we are we are
Close as close can be

*headdesks onto buzzer*

Oh, and there’s a song on top of it all, too!

We are, we are
Not your ordinary fami-li-ly
But we can all agree that we are we are
Close as close can be
We are, we are
Not your ordinary fami-li-ly
But we can all agree that we are we are
Close as close can be
We are, we are
Not your ordinary fami-li-ly
But we can all agree that we are we are
Close as close can be

Okay, are you just gonna repeat those lyrics again and again? ‘Cause this is just getting out of hand here!

“Hey, Buck, but that makes no sense. We saw possum bones in the pit,” Tranapple told him. Buck shrugged and said, “Possum bones? That must have been Eddie’s. Brave kid, Eddie was. Brave, brave kid. But there was nothing we could do about it. Now, let’s boogy down!”

And of course, it wouldn’t be this series if there wasn’t one last pointless death scene.

*headdesks onto buzzer*

Aaaaaagh, can this series just fucking end already!?

I do believe in the light
Raise your hands up to the sky
The fight is done
The war is won
Lift your hands
Towards the sun
Towards the sun
Towards the sun
Towards the sun
The war is won

MA HA NEI BU, EEBOWAI!!! MA HA NEI BU!!!

*falls onto the floor*

Just get the last author’s note out of the way, please!

AR: All’s well that ends well. Well, I hope you enjoyed THE ICE AGE GAMES heptology. Now, let’s make like Buck and boogy! THE WAR IS WON!

I’d get down on the ground if I had the energy to, but… this fic. Just… this fucking fic.

Fuck. This. Series. I just… I don’t have anything else I can say. Fuck. This. Series. How the fuck did I survive it? I just… I don’t even know! What the shit did I just witness!?

*headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk*

*sighs*

Good God… I’m just gonna get out of here while I can. I’ll see you guys next time, patrons. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to attempt to get the taste out of my mouth with this:

Save me, German post-romantic lushness!

Advertisements

35 Comments on “890: Quarter Quell Sequels – The End, Chapters 2, 3, 4, and 5”

  1. leobracer says:

    Whelp, now that we’re done with this shitfest, what’s gonna come next week?

  2. The Crowbar says:

    Good christ.

    I have no fucking idea what the fuck happened in this entire goddamn fucking fic. At any point.

  3. Manny took a sip of the broth and tasted the best thing he had had in his entire life.

    Yeah, no – I’ve seen elephants drink before. There’s nothing as subtle as “sipping” involved.

  4. …a fourth of bread…

    A what of what? In what measurement system is that a thing?

  5. TacoMagic says:

    Hmm. Anyway, he needs your help! Scrat is telling me to say 20 letter words to pass the time while he is thinking. Alright.

    What. The. Fuck?

    I mean, who does that? Who…

    You know what, never mind. I’m just going to go and have Eliza unleash the gong launcher on me for a few hours so that I don’t have to think about how stupid that is.

  6. TacoMagic says:

    He flew into the mischief of rats

    *Facepalm*

    Brooks, it’s a plague of rats. Mischief is mice.

    • Herr Wozzeck says:

      Honestly, by this point this series had gotten so stupid I frankly gave up on concentrating on some of the wording snafus. Doesn’t mean it’s not dumb, but I had much bigger fish to fry…

  7. SuperFeatherYoshi says:

    It is finished! Praise be unto Herr Wozzeck!

  8. whatthefuckever says:

    *sigh* Alright, Herr Wozzeck. You win. Yes, I have read all of your reviews of my shit fan fictions. Good job. You ripped my stuff to shreds. I took them all down. All the fan fictions. Changed my pen and my bio. Guess you wouldn’t care, though. Mr. Wozzeck, I congratulate you. You got through my fucking shit fest of fanfiction that I wrote when I was, like, 12. Bravo.

    Although, friend, I have read far worse fanfictions than the likes of mine. Review any of KaylaDestroyer’s fanfictions, rip them to shreds. You’ll have a fucking field day.

    So, again. Congratulations on making it through. I didn’t think you could do it.

    Love always,
    LQ Brooks

    • Herr Wozzeck says:

      Careful, Mr. Brooks. Your passive aggression is showing.

    • erttheking says:

      Herr, I fail to see what’s passive about this. This is plain old aggression.

    • SC says:

      I always love when badfic authors throw other authors they think are worse than them under the bus to try and claim that riffing their work was a waste of our time, “because this guy is so much worse.”

      It’s like how teens who get pulled over for speeding complain that there’s drug dealers up the road doing far worse things than them, but THEY’RE not getting arrested!

      The cops say it best: We found you first. Not our fault fanfiction.net put your fic sooner in the search results than this other author you think is so much worse than you.

      Oh, and furthermore, Brooks: I said it to another author, I’ll say it to you now – I could care less what age you were when you wrote these trainwreck fics. I started writing when I was five. What counts is how much of a shit you give about making your work GOOD, and these fics are clear proof that you didn’t care. God knows if that’s changed any since that time. Probably not, if you’re getting butthurt over poor quality work getting called out for what it is.

    • SuperFeatherYoshi says:

      Nice name, whatthefuckever, perfectly sums up my opinion towards you.

      • whatthefuckever says:

        You’re all missing the point. I love this website. I read your reviews way often. I’m not saying that reviewing my fanfictions was a waste of time. That’s not what I’m saying at all. And I was never trying to defend my work. I’m not saying the author fanfic writer I mentioned is worse than me, but she’s still a bad fanfic writer, and I’m just saying that maybe if you guys needed new material to review you could look at hers. I know my writing was bad. Some of the worst on the Internet. I know that, and it was interesting to see your take on it.

        LQ Brooks

        • Herr Wozzeck says:

          Well, we didn’t get that from how sarcastically your comment was worded. Because let’s be real, your comment is worded similarly to how someone who is actually miffed would write it out if he were being passive-aggressive about it. And unfortunately, I have dealt with people like that in the past. Hell, I’m considering snarking something of his, but I’m going to have to wait for certain somethings to do that.

          So, just for the record… you’re not actually that angry?

      • whatthefuckever says:

        I’m not angry at all. To be perfectly honest, I agree with everything you said.

        And I do apologize for how sarcastic my comment sounded. It was certainly not intended that way.

      • whatthefuckever says:

        *thumbs up*

        Yeah, like I said. I really enjoy this website. I love reading all your reviews. And I also love the constr…well…destructive criticism I guess. It’s fun to read and I feel like I’m becoming a better writer thanks to you. No sarcasm, promise.

      • SC says:

        Uh oh, did I let loose the fuck-you cannons on an innocent person?

        Well shit, sorry bro.

      • "Lyle" says:

        Coolbeans. Welcome, glad there’s no butthurt :-)

    • what the fuck ever (i regret the name now) says:

      I am looking back at my first comment and, yeah, it sounded pretty sarcastic. Sorry again. But yeah, no butthurt. (Lyle, I don’t know if you’re reading this, but glad to meet you. I really love all your reviews of My Immortal. They’re some of my favourites on this website.)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s