A/N: This story is meant to be in good fun, but it also brings up some important points.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth, any of the famous people mentioned below, or the real life person that JadeAmy is based on. I would like to thank that person for not fussing too much when I used her in the story.

It was five a.m., and Sarah was absently typing away at her computer. She had to be on the set in less than an hour, but she had awakened inspired and felt compelled to write for a while. This was happening to her more and more these days. It was her secret obsession.

Ten years ago Sarah had gone on the most remarkable journey of her life. She had traveled through another world, defeated its ruler, and learned several important lessons along the way. Near the end of the journey, during her final confrontation with the Goblin King, he had offered her her dreams in exchange for…well she had never quite figured out just exactly what he had wanted. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave. It had been a strange request, full of dark promise that at fifteen she had been just too young to understand. She had rejected his offer, mainly because she had no idea what it would mean to take it, and because accepting the offer wasn't in the SCRIPT. The SCRIPT was very important, after all, and must be followed closely.

At least that's what she had thought at fifteen. Now at twenty-five she knew she got more attention when she ad-libbed her lines. She had, after all, won an Oscar for her role in the remake of Gone With the Wind, and she had ad-libbed nearly the entire script. Ebert and Roper said they had never thought of Scarlet O'Hara as actually having an Irish accent and cursing like a sailor, but Sarah had made it work.

It seemed that that Goblin King had granted her her wishes anyway, because Sarah was now an actress with worldwide acclaim. She had been romantically linked with every major motion picture star from Hugh Grant to Jude Law. She had nearly married Ewan McGreggor, if the National Enquirer was to be believed anyway. (She seemed drawn to men with sexy accents, and she had no idea why.) At the tender age of twenty-five she already had three Oscars, two for Best Supporting Actress and one, of course, for Scarlett O'Hara. She also had countless Golden Globes, a couple of Emmys, a Tony (She had played Eponine for a year when she was eighteen.) and even a Grammy.

That Grammy is what made her think the Goblin King had something to do with things. She had always been a fairly decent actress (or at least she thought so.) But although she dreamed of singing, she had never been particularly good at it. She was as surprised as anyone when she had landed the role of Maria in the remake of Sound of Music. She hadn't gotten an Oscar for that one, but she had gotten a Grammy. Ten years ago she couldn't hold a tune in a bucket, now she was a regular songbird. And she could dance. And, she discovered in a guest appearance on "Angel", she was a natural with swords and martial arts. She also could ride a horse like a pro, despite having never seen one before climbing on the back of one for Return to Sleepy Hollow. In fact, if she was forced to think about it, she had a great deal many more talents now than she had gone to the Labyrinth with, and she was quite sure she had the Goblin King to thank for that. Maybe she should be worried, but she was having too much fun.

One of her most secret talents, and one of the few she had had all her life, was writing. Oh, she ad-libbed lines and that was a form of writing she supposed. And occasionally she took a shot at a script or two, though none had been optioned yet. But her real heart, her secret love, was fan-fiction. And the only fan-fiction worth writing about, in her eyes anyway, revolved around that little red book that had started it all.

She logged in now, looking for "The Labyrinth" under books, when she saw there was new news on the home page. It was all fine and useless to her. Yes, yes, we now have stories in Ubangi and Tagalog. Yes, yes read only mode on Saturday. Then something caught her eye; something extraordinary and frightening and wholly repellent in the sheer Orwellian nature of it. "It has come to our attention that some people have been putting song lyrics in their stories. This must stop immediately. If you didn't write it, don't post it, we've always believed this here at Fafinet. These posts must be removed immediately to avoid account deletion."

Sarah's jaw dropped. What the hell? How could you write fan-fiction without music? How was it even possible? How would they even have a website left if they took away all the stories with music in them? And the biggest question of all, how were properly disclaimed song lyrics any different from properly disclaimed stories? Hell, there was no difference at all! Nothing on the site was original, it was all tied to someone else's original and copy written ideas. That was the whole point, that's why it was called FAN-FICTION!

Sarah wanted to cry. She had seventeen stories posted in the Labyrinth section, and all of them had song lyrics in them somewhere. The Labyrinth she remembered had been a very musical place, and she liked to write it that way. Many of the songwriters whose work she used were personal friends of hers, or at least acquaintances, and she doubted they would mind their songs being used in such a way. Of course, didn't know that she had dinner with Trent Reznor last Thursday, and they didn't care. All they cared about was that she had used the lyrics to 'Head Like a Hole' in one of her stories. They didn't care that she had recently attended an art exhibit with David Bowie and his lovely wife, all they knew was that the song 'Moonage Daydream' had played a prominent role in one of her fics. It was downright frustrating.

With a heavy sigh she shut down Explorer. She had to get to the set, and maiming her stories to make them fit into Fafinet's skewed view of the world would have to wait until she got home. She was about to shut down her computer when her AIM popped up with a message from JadeAmy. Amy was fan, of sorts. She had discovered her stories while she was still writing the fifth one, and had liked it so much she had IMed her to tell her so. They had been chatting ever since.

Of course, Amy had no idea who she really was. Sarah's IM handle as well as her pen name was Goblin Queen. (Yes, she was aware of the implications, but in this case was prepared to throw caution to the wind.) As far as Amy knew, she was a thirty-five year old mother of two who worked in a mall in the Bronx. Still, despite this Amy was one of her most cherished friends, because, oddly, Amy liked her for who she was. Geez, the world is a screwed up place sometimes.Amy claimed to be an secretary from New Jersey, but Sarah had her doubts about that as well.

'Hey Girl' Amy chimed.

'Hey!' Sarah answered.

'You writing?' Amy asked. This was always Amy's next question. She was Sarah's biggest motivator in that regard.

'I was, now I have to undo it all.' Sarah replied.

'What? Why?' Amy asked.

'Because of Fafinet's new rule.' Sarah pouted. She really was more upset about this than she should be. After all, she had a career, a life, why should she care if some suit's in a boardroom far far away hated music? But damn it, she didn't want to mutilate her stories!

'What new rule?' Amy asked. That Amy, always with the questions. Sarah reopened the web page and cut and paste the offending paragraph for Amy's viewing pleasure. There was a slight pause before Amy chimed again.

'What? That's ridiculous!' she raged.

'Its ri-goddam-diculous is what it is.' Sarah agreed.

'I mean, come on!' Amy continued. 'That's going just a bit too far! How are song lyrics any different from stories or movies or comic books?'

'That's what I said.' Sarah told her.

'I mean, it's like we're living in Russia or something!' Amy cried.

'Preach on, my sista!' Sarah laughed.

'So what are you gonna do?' Amy asked her.

'Right now I'm going to work. After that, I don't know.' Sarah said.

'You're not actually gonna take the music out of your stories are you? I mean, that would ruin them! That would be like taking the music out of Sound of Music.' Amy said.

'I agree.' Sarah told her, laughing at the analogy. 'But if the only other option is to have my account deleted… Anyway, I have to go to work now. Talk to you later.'

'Later'

Sarah hurried to her car, kicking herself for running late again. She hated being late, and that Tim Burton was a perfectionist.

&$&#&$&&(&

Meanwhile, underground….

The Goblin King sat lazily on his large purple throne, one leg thrown haphazardly over an arm rest, tapping his exquisitely muscular thigh with a riding crop. His head in his hand, he was concentrating on a disturbance that had made its presence known that very morning. He had no idea what was causing it, but a feeling of dread was slowly creeping over him. Even the playful antics of his goblins could not shake him from his gloom, nor could his favorite past time of kicking them into the wall.

As a last resort he summoned a crystal to his fingertips, uttering those words that never failed to bring a smile to his lips even on the worst of days. "Show me Sarah." He whispered. Unfortunately what the crystal showed him was not very cheerful, not to him at least. Sarah was wrapped in a passionate embrace with Johnny Depp. The Goblin King scowled with such force he nearly got a cramp in his cheek. Then he noticed the outlandish clothing they were wearing and realized they were filming a movie together. He heaved a sigh of relief. He could put up with most of her dalliances, but he wasn't sure if even he could compete with Johnny Depp.

As he was lost in his crystal and thoughts of how much better he could kiss Sarah than this weasly little man was doing, a goblin approached him tentatively. "Sire." It said. "You looks sad. Sing us a song?"

The Goblin King looked at the little goblin with a mix of amusement and disgust. Perhaps a song would make him feel better. He stood from the throne with such quickness the little goblin nearly fell over himself trying to get out of the way. As Jareth leapt from his throne he gave a wave of his hand and music began to permeate the throne room. A ticking, playful beat that caused all of the goblins to cheer and begin to dance. Jareth looked down at the little goblin who had suggested the song and put the riding crop beneath his chin. "You remind me of the….of the…" Jareth frowned, and the music stopped. Something was very wrong. He couldn't sing. No, no, he could sing, quite well in fact, but something was preventing him from singing. The words literally were stopping in his throat.

Jareth began to pace. Was this the disturbance he had felt? Was this what was upsetting the balance of his world? An inability to sing…that could prove disastrous for the Underground. The very life force of nearly every creature here depended on music, without it they would surely die. His goblins watched him sadly as he wandered away to ponder this threat to his kingdom, then they went back to chasing chickens.

(&&(&)(&)(&()()

It had been a lovely day on the set, and Sarah was desperately tired. But Fafinet had set a deadline for removing song lyrics, and she had to get it done before her account was deleted. With a heavy heart she began the arduous task of tearing the soul from each of her stories. Some of them, she realized, made no sense whatsoever now that the music was gone, and so those stories she deleted all together. She felt as though she were killing her own children, but if it had to be done, it had to be done.

One story in particular stood out among the rest. The Goblin King and the Beautiful Young Girl (whom Sarah always called Kara, since the book had never really named her) were married and had a son who lived above ground and was a musician. The story was called King of Rock n' Roll and while it was a bit cheesy perhaps, it was one of her favorites. In the story, the young Goblin Prince (who looked and acted remarkably like his father) falls in love with no other than the great actress Sarah Williams. She loved it, and had gotten great reviews for it. It tickled her to no end that she had used herself as a character and no one even knew. It didn't matter now, though, because it had to go. It was chock full of song lyrics and would make no sense at all without them.

When she was done destroying her work she went to the bathroom and took a long hot bubble bath. She lay her head back in the tub, enjoying the feel of the warm bubbles as they played against her skin. It reminded her somehow of a ballroom filled with bubbles she had once seen, long ago in a far away place.

This thought led her back to her stories. She often wondered what the Goblin King would think of her stories. She usually made him look good, because deep down she felt she owed it to him. She almost always let him get the girl, because she was beginning more and more to believe that is what he would have wanted. But above all else, she made him musical. She surrounded him with music and singing because that's how she remembered him. Now the music was gone, and even though it was only in her make believe version of his world, the thought of it brought tears to her eyes.

She got out of the tub, drying her hair with a towel and wrapping herself in a soft white robe. She padded into her opulent bedroom and climbed in to the large oak four poster bed. Her room was appointed quite extravagantly and perhaps with more masculine tastes then most would have expected. She often found herself choosing artwork or knick knacks or even furniture not based on her own preferences, but on what she thought the Goblin King would like. She had no idea why, but she was quite aware that she was doing it. If she had any idea how comfortable it made him as he watched her sleep, she might have stopped. Maybe.

She slipped the robe off and climbed naked into bed, not liking to have anything come between her and the two thousand thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets she had paid so much for. As she drifted off to sleep she thought she heard music playing, and the painful sounds of someone not singing.

A/N: Okay, okay, let the flaming begin. I'm sorry, I know a lot of you were expecting an update to GSTK, but this new rule was brought to my attention via a review the other day and I have been fuming about it ever since. I think most would agree with Sarah and her friend Amy that its ri-goddam-diculous. I haven't been able to write a lick on GSTK because of it, so I had to get this out of my system. If there are any monitors for out there, I hope you realize there is no disrespect intended. I am merely expressing my discontent in the most creative way possible. Please feel free to email me if you would like to talk about it.

Anyway, please review. This may be a rebel story, but its still a story and I worked hard on it and I'd like to know what people think. I love you all!