AN: It's Not Big And It's Not Clever is back, with a kind of unnatural glow. Because we've been eating batteries. Review or Die.

Us

A familiar tune strikes up, and is immediately recognisable. But in case you'd missed out on the last twenty years of pop culture, the logo flashes boldly onto the screen. "CHARLIE'S ANGELS".

Cue the crayon of wonder. After some minor tasteful cinematic alterations, the screen now reads "SHAK AND VIOLET THE FANTASTIC".

The scene cuts to Miss Violet Snowe wearing a skintight pvc catsuit. A kitten is dangling in the mouth of a great white shark, and she backflips her way across the water, balances on the shark's nose, pouts sexily and rescues the feline, before backflipping to dry land and handing the kitten to a grateful small child who tells her that she wants to be just like her. She flashes a grin at the camera and says huskily, "You may want to reel in that shark, boys. I carved the cure for cancer into it's hide with my stiletto heel".

There is then a parade in her honour.

Meanwhile the lovely Miss Shakahnna Warren is dressed to kill. A red cocktail dress (digatAdadigatAda) shows off her hourglass figure, and her gleaming red hair could have come straight from a shampoo advert. She looks like a movie star, yet needs no makeup. But her super senses are activated! A busload of schoolchildren is heading for the edge of a cliff. And the bus has a bomb strapped to it. And the bomb has a giant Nazi spike of evil on it. She steps out in front of the bus and instantly the bus is mesmerised by her stunning beauty. It stops immediately. She is also so gorgeous that the bombs are offended that anyone could want to hurt her. They immediately unhook themselves (complete with giant Nazi spike of evil) and fly back to the lair of the evildoers and blow themselves up. The children all cheer and she turns to the camera and smiles. She's so renegade. "But remember, kids, true beauty is on the inside!" she declares, and gives a wink.

There is also a parade in her honour…

"RIGHT! THAT'S FUCKING ENOUGH!" A loud booming voice intones, and the screen fizzles out to static. When picture is restored, we see a rather indignant looking Shakahnna. The real Shakahnna, complete with "Wesker murders redheads because he's obsessed with me" t-shirt.

Violet looks at the catsuit hanging up. Her eyes dart from the catsuit, to herself, from the catsuit, to herself, from the catsuit to herself. She eventually shrugs, pulls out a lighter, and sets fire to it. Then immediately begans to choke uncontrollably on the stench of burning plastic.

"Hullo…" choke, choke, "And welcome to another…" choke, "episode of…"

"IT'S NOT BIG AND IT'S NOT CLEVER!" Shak booms enthusiastically as Violet dissolves into coughs again.

The redhead turns and faces the camera with a serious look on her face. "Today we will be examining the scourge of fanfiction…nay society…."

"…the Mary Sue." Violet concludes, before pulling out a blackboard from apparently nowhere and pointing at a needlessly complicated chart. "Now class, a Mary Sue, for those of you who may not know…"

"…or may have repressed…" Shak interjects.

"…is a self-insertion fanfic. Where the main character is invariably fantastic, beautiful, gorgeous, clever, kind, generous…"

"…renegade…"

"…brave, talented, blonde and in a relationship with one of the more desirable Resident Evil characters."

"And don't forget, loved, respected and feared by everyone," Shak reminds us. "And let's face it, until you all become short, fat, S&M loving redheads, Wesker ain't gonna want you."

"Which can only be a good thing. He's a right dick." Violet is tactful. "Hey, Shak, do you want to smell my hair?"

"No, fuck off."

"It smells really nice."

"Roll the projector."

Scene: Jill and Chris are in Racoon City. There are zombies, man, ZOMBIES. They are in O'Grady's bar cuz were original.

Jill (shooting stuff): OMG! There are zombies, man, ZOMBIES everywhere.

Enter a handsome and dashing hero. He is all James Dean, fuck the system. He has a stash of A-grade weapons, even though he's still in high school. He's a vampire too, infused with the G virus, and he's got a trenchcoat. He doesn't need to go to the toilet and he can withstand temperatures hotter than the sun. He punches a zombie and they smash straight through a concrete wall.

Jill swoons. Even though she and Chris are a couple.

Jill: OMG, you saved me, you handsome renegade!

Handsome stranger: My name's Englebert, but you can call me Dante. (translation: I get picked on in school. I wish I was a real vampire. That would be cool.)

Jill: And you can call me anything you want, baby.

Chris, meanwhile is watching. He would be angry, but he's too in awe of this dude's coolness. There are more zombies.

A chick shows up. She probably crashes through the window on a motorbike or something lame. I don't know.

Motorbike: Vroom, vroom.

Chick: Need a hand, handsome?

Chris: A hand…job more like!

(haha at us)

Chick shoots loads of zombies. Evilly. She's wearing Claire's alternate outfit from Code Veronica. You know, the white one, with the hotpants. She has blonde hair and looks innocent. But tough. And sexy. Really sexy, like way, way hotter than Britney. And she can do kung fu and stuff. She's probably a vampire too, or a BOW like Wesker but stronger and cooler and sexier etc etc ad infinitum.

Chick: Hey, stranger. My name's Greasy McPie, but you can call me Ferrari Sexkitten. (translation: It's Prom Night and I'm at home on my computer because the boys in my class said I have a face like the back of a bus that's been dragged backwards through an acne factory)

Chris: You're so beautiful, let's make out.

Ferrari Sexkitten: No, for I have a dark past and am easily hurt.

Chris: I will win your love, fair maiden of asskicking sexiness.

Five minutes later they make out. She probably makes out with Jill too. All the cool girls are bi-curious.

"CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT!" Violet is screaming.

Shak brings out a razor blade.

"Not that kind of cut!" Violet says, rolling her eyes.

There is canned laughter.

"Do we really need to explain the lesson here?" Shakahnna groans, pleading with her eyes at the camera.

"Ok, so the lesson is…DON'T WRITE MARY SUES!" Violet shakes her finger vehemently and scowls. "Or Gary Sues."

The credits begin to roll, and Shak and Violet share a well earned cigarette as the screen fades…

Hang on. No it doesn't.

A heavenly trumpet sounds, and the room is flooded with the light of God, and the voices of angels (so that means Shak is in fact not singing).

Guess who?

The Dove From Above soars down. It's made of cardboard and attached to the ceiling with string, because we blew our special effects budget on crack and hookers. The girl riding gleefully atop it is oddly familiar, yet…somehow different. Actually, who the fuck are we kidding, she looks exactly the fucking same. For it is none other than…JASMINE!

"That's right, geniuses, my real name is not, in fact, Shakahnna," she announced. Shak looks confused. Violet wonders if she's seeing double from all the times she banged her head.

But before there is time to postulate, the Beast from the East (also made of cardboard) zooms in, in a flash of lightning. Sitting on it is another, oddly familiar, girl. Except her hair is blonde. But it is still none other than…

"You are all cretins."

Yep, it's Jennifer-Louise.

"Woah!" Violet points at her real life alter ego and sniggers, "Dye job!"

"Get it up you, Violet. At least I didn't lose out to Annette."

Violet spreads her hands and shrugs, "I concede."

Meanwhile, Shak and Jasmine are swapping tips on how to blow things up. Or castration. One of the two. I can't hear them, but I know they are.

"Right, you two," Jennifer-Louise points at the two fictional characters, "Sit down and shut up. And give me one of your fags."

"This is a piss-take of Mary Sues," Jasmine begins, "We write Mary Sues. We are aware of this." She is sitting with her hands behind her head and a smug smile of general satisfaction. "And the first person who feels the need to point this out gets the castration special."

"The thing is," Jennifer-Louise takes a draw from her cigarette, and glares at the camera, "We are entitled to write Mary Sues. And do you know why?" Pause. "Because we are fantastic."

"We are so interesting, that it is inconceivable that people wouldn't want to read about us," Jasmine adds in a fit of modesty.

"We are your coffee in the morning. You need us. The Resident Evil section needs us to brighten up their dull and otherwise empty lives. We are the two most fascinating, dynamic, humourous, witty and all round stalkable people you have ever met."

"And the world deserves to have us in fiction form, because there isn't enough of the real thing to go around." Jasmine finishes, before her face darkens, "I swear to God, the next anorexic fucking Barbie they put up there and label as "tough" I'm gonna go strap myself as explosives and go blow something up."

"And the next pseudo-intellectual fuckwit who read a paragraph out of a high school chemistry textbook once and didn't understand it and now thinks that the t virus is real and they can make it in their mum's kitchen is going to get poison in their tea. I swear to God. IT'S SCIENCE FUCKING FICTION." Jennifer-Louise pinches the bridge of her nose and scowls. "But we digress…"

"Mary Sues are terrible." Jasmine brings the dialogue to a point.

"Don't write them, unless you're us." Jennifer-Louise adds. "I've officially given us permission. But not you." She points at the camera.

"So, that concludes another episode of…"

"IT'S NOT BIG, AND IT'S NOT CLEVER!" With four people trying to say this in unison, the results are predictably nonsensical.

Fin