A/N: Well, this is a legit author's note. I actually wasn't intending to create another chapter to this. However, recent events inspired me to write a parody about authors notes. And not the legit ones, the ones when they start threatening people that they'll take down the story and whatnot. Because when it comes down to it, you shouldn't be on Fanfiction if you can't take the heat. So now, on with the show!

For reasons unknown, Clopin as well as most of the other protagonists from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame are STILL locked in a room.

After nearly a 2 month hiatus, the Hunchback characters were finally back in action. The fangirls were gone, the Mary-Sues had vanished, and overall, life was good. Esmeralda was dancing with her tambourine, Djali skipping at her heels. Quasi was making another wood carving, Frollo was reading a Bible, and good ol Clopin was sewing another puppet. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Phoebus, can you get that?" Esmeralda asked her husband sweetly.

"Alright," he sighed, clutching the brass knob. As soon as he opened the door, a girl tumbled into the room, bawling her eyes out. She had blue eyes and stringy brown hair. Her nose was quite fat and her chubby cheeks hid most of her mouth.

"What on Earth?" Frollo cried, looking repulsed.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT!" the girl bawled, "I WRITE SOOOOOOOOOOO WELL AND NO ONE LIKES MY STORIES!!!"

"There, there," Clopin soothed, patting her shoulder and handing her a handkerchief "dry your eyes." Sniffling, she accepted it and blew her nose. Quite loudly, mind you.

"Aren't you from that organization?" Quasi asked, "you know, the people who were here last time?"

"Fanfiction?"

"Yes! That's it!" Quasi exclaimed, beaming.

"Well then what seems to be the problem now, Miss?" Phoebus asked.

"I was just writing a story about you guys, and then out of the blue someone said something REALLY mean!" the girl whined.

"Do you have a copy? Perhaps if we read it we can provide some constructive critiscism," Clopin suggested. The girl, who still was nameless up to this point, shot him a nasty glance.

"NO! YOU CAN'T SAY MEAN THINGS ABOUT MY STORY! ITS PERFECT! I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY EVERYONE HATES IT!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Looking fearful now, Clopin took several steps backwards. Calming down, the girl reached into her back pocket and pulled out a stapled paper. Taking it, Clopin began to read.

"Well?" she asked as watched him read.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Clopin exclaimed, holding a hand to his mouth and dropping the paper.

"If its making even a Gypsy scum like you sick then it must be awful!" Frollo sneered.

"No its not!" the authoress said defiantly, "it only talks about a girl named Liliana Maria Rose Smith who is a half Gypsy. Her mother died when she was young and her father was a drunk and she ran away to the Court of Miracles. And get this--Clopin falls in LOVE with her! Isn't that the most romantic thing ever?"

"No wonder you're getting bad reviews!" Phoebus exclaimed, "that plotline has been recycled so much the EPA even has a problem with it. And they're a bunch of tree-huggers!"

"And look," Esmeralda said, reading the description of the Mary-Sue, "you said how her 'lucious brown hair flowed down her bare back'. And her 'eyes glowed like sapphires ' and her 'slim nose complimented her rosy cheeks'".

"So what's wrong with that?" the authoress asked, "I was just using figurative language to describe her apperance!"

"But the girl is exactly like you but without as many flaws. Add that with the recycled plotline and Clopin falling in love with you and you've got a Mary-Sue. That's why no one likes your story," Phoebus said.

"And then you say upon glancing at my ugly face," Quasi added "how you 'weren't afraid at all and that I was even CUTE!'" Without another word, he put a hand to his mouth and ran to the corner to join Clopin.

"But why does everyone have to be so MEAN about it?" the authoress whined over Quasi's retching.

"Because part of becoming a great author is learning to take the heat," Frollo remarked.

"OH YEAH!" the authoress said, snapping her fingers, "I nearly forgot to tell you guys! There comes a scene when Esmeralda can't dance and Liliana gets to wear this GORGEOUS dress and--?"

"Wait, don't tell me," Frollo said, holding up his hand to cut her off "I start to lust after you rather than Esmeralda. Then you add in a bunch of chapters of angst and how I can't choose who is sexier. Then I procede to sing Hellfire and rant and rave."

"Actually, yes!" the authoress said, "you got that word-for-word."

"So what is your name?" Quasi asked curiously.

"My name is Lindsey," said the authoress, "but you still left out one very important factor."

"What's that?" Esmeralda asked.

"It turns out that Liliana was betrowthed to Frollo when she was four! So she has to decide who to marry: Frollo or Clopin. The very city of Paris lies in her hands!" Lindsey squealed.

"Good grief," Clopin said, wiping the vomit from his mouth.

"What happens next?" Phoebus asked.

"I'm not sure, now that you think of it," Lindsey exclaimed, "there are so many possiblities I just don't know what sounds better!" Then, her face contorted into rage, "BUT IF I GET ONE MORE BAD REVIEW MY STORY IS GOING OFF THE WEBSITE FOR GOOD!"

"Aw, how sad," Esmeralda said, sarcasm dripping off her words.

"People shouldn't flame my story anyways," Lindsey added, "its not nice."

"True, but life isn't a bunch of roses," Frollo said, "instead of dedicating a chapter about their woes to people they'll never meet, why not just use the criticism they supply for the better?"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! THEY HURT MY FEELINGS! WHY SHOULD I CARE ABOUT THE OPINIONS OF PEOPLE I NEVER MET?" Lindsey screamed, "IF THEY DON'T LIKE IT, THEY SHOULDN'T READ IT!!!" And with that, she opened the door and left the room, slamming it as hard as she could.

"Sheesh, and how old was she?" Quasi asked.

"It says in her story Liliana is sixteen," Esmeralda said, looking at abandoned Fanfiction.

"Well, she acted like a toddler," Phoebus remarked, "Clopin's puppet has more maturity than her!

"Hey, I heard that!" the Puppet squeaked, appearing on Clopin's hand.

"Perhaps people can learn from Lindsey's behavior. People won't respect you if you whine about your own work," Frollo suggested.

"Let's just hope that it works," Esmeralda replied.