A/N: No, this isn't meant to incite rage or offend anyone – this is simply a humorous, unbiased view on what Mary Sues may look like from the boys' point of view. 8)

Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.


Feet shuffle onto the stage – pause – Ryoma turns to stare imploringly at his seniors huddled behind him, but one pretty smile from Fuji, and he feels a chill up his spine and walks once more. He takes his position in front of one of the three mics lined up in a neat line in the center of the stage; Ryoma glances back at Tezuka in the hopes that perhaps his captain would save him from this-

-but Fuji catches that glance, and his smile widens. Ryoma freezes, and turns dutifully to face the front.

He's soon joined by Ohtori Choutarou and Wakashi Hiyoshi from Hyotei – who are then followed by an obviously irate Kirihara Akaya, whose eyes are already beginning to turn a blood red. The four share a resigned look, and then-

"So we're here today-" Ryoma pauses, and checks the script in his hands for the correct wording, because Fuji would gut him if he said the wrong words, "-on behalf of our senpai-tachi, and captains, to offer you fanfiction writers a little bit of advice."

"Before you write a single word, stop. Stop, and just- don't write it. But if you insist on writing, here are a few things we'd like you to know. Tezuka-buchou is Tezuka-buchou, and there is no girl in existence in the entire world – or realms beyond – that will have him break character and smile softly or, for the sake of all things holy, laugh. On that note, there will never, ever, ever be a girl so brilliant at tennis that buchou would let her onto our team – besides, that would mean that one of us already existing regulars would have to be booted out to make space for a girl with lumps on her chest, and that's not happening anytime soon."

"Yukimura-buchou would also like me to state," Kirihara began, looking at his own script, "that he is the Child of God, and he hasn't led us to victory at Nationals before by frolicking around and having menstruating females on the team. He's done it by having sturdy males, like Sanada-fukubuchou (who, by the way, would have an aneurism if someone even brought up the idea of breaking the rules and having a girl on our team) on the team."

"Gekokujo," Hiyoshi states proudly. "There is no girl in Hyotei that can defeat me, or wow Atobe-buchou enough so that he temporarily forgets about how beautiful his self is, and lose his sanity, and allow her on the team, either. Atobe-buchou is narcissistic, not certifiably manic. He would also like me to tell you that he is indeed, disgustingly wealthy, and girls that are as rich as he is are very, very hard to find. It's also unrealistic for random foreigners to appear in Japan and be gorgeous enough to have entire teams (who, by the way, are filled with extremely good looking people already, so we're not easily impressed) fall at their feet. Or for foreigners to just appear randomly mid-year in Japan, for that matter."

"Unless you are writing a poem, i-it might be best not to center all the text," Choutarou said shyly. Shishido smiles in encouragement, and he continues. "Prose, as most fanfiction is, is meant to be justified or left-aligned, as is the tendency of the English language. "

Ryoma raised his hand slightly then. "I also don't have a twin sister, or a sister, or any siblings other than Ryoga – I enjoy my time as an only child, and I'd appreciate if people didn't make up any fake female family members who happen to be able to do every one of my moves. Those didn't just materialize out of thin air, thank you very much, and I'd like to rest in peace knowing that my signature moves are mine and do not belong to some 'gorgeous blue-eyed girl with an English name even though it's Japan.' And speaking of girls, if you haven't noticed by the way I single-handed ignored my coach's granddaughter for nearly 200 episodes straight, I'm really not interested in that species at the moment."

"We also don't have any fuckin' childhood friends that can miraculously beat us at tennis, or that we'll magically fall in love with," Kirihara grunts. "If they were that good at tennis, we'd have crushed them into the ground before this point, and most of us grew up with tennis on our brains and not random childhood friends that we didn't have."

"By the way, for you Suethors who think you have found a loophole in the whole 'girl on a boys' team' by crossdressing," Ryoma sighs. "We're not morons. We'd probably be able to tell if a girl was dressing as a boy – and again, what kind of girl would be insane enough to dress up as a boy, anyways? It's not as if she can't join the girls team, where she belongs."

"And if Sanada-fukubuchou ever caught your crossdressing ass, he'd have you expelled from the school," Kirihara finished.

Ryoma hears a sniffle from behind him, and catches a glimpse of Oishi wiping a proud tear from his cheek. Fuji blows him a kiss, beaming at Ryoma with all the happiness in the world, and Tezuka nods his approval.

From the other side of the stage, Atobe runs his hand through his hair with a flourish, and Yukimura smiles benevolently upon Kirihara.

Hiyoshi coughs none too discreetly.

"So yeah. None of us are too fond of Mary Sues, especially not ones that threaten our position as regulars on the team. So. Please. Don't lug them into our fandom."

"Thank you."


A/N:I am a girl, too, so all the bits about periods and stuff are just for fun! Teehee. :)