A/N: I am SO sorry I abandoned this for so long. This shall be my comeback chapter. (It's a bit of a pathetic excuse for a chapter actually but I just missed writing this!) As always, if you are new to this story and considering reading it from the beginning, can I just advise you - don't.

It was two months after the release of young adult bestseller New Muffin, the second book in theMuffinlight series, and Kenny Dunne was already a rich, rich man. Someone bought one of his books approximately every three seconds, so every three seconds another fiver would go into his bank account. These days, one of Kenny's favourite hobbies was to count to three and then chuckle smugly to himself. It was a hobby that had lost him quite a lot of friends, but what did Kenny care? He was rich.

He happened to be chuckling smugly to himself when the phone rang. He composed himself and answered it. It was his sexy but unfortunately named agent, Pamela Spratt. "Hey, Kenny."

"Hey Pamela," said Kenny. "What's up?"

"The sky," said Pamela and they both laughed hysterically. They were well suited to each other.

"Oh, Pamela, you are such a scream," said Kenny when they had both calmed down.

"I know," said Pamela. "I don't know where I get these things, I really don't. Anyway, I have some exciting news! Generic Films - the people behind Twilight -want to make Muffinlight into a movie!"

Kenny's eyes widened. "A movie? Are you serious?"

"Yep," said Pamela happily. "A whole series of movies, hopefully. They think it could do even better than Twilight, because it has muffins in it. What do you say? Do you want to hand over the movie rights?"

"Of course!" said Kenny. "I love Generic Films. They did such an amazing job with Twilight. When can I sign the contract?"

"As soon as possible," said Pamela. "I'll let you know."

A month later, open auditions for Muffinlight were being held in Croke Park in Dublin. Thousands of people waited to get in. Some of them were reciting lines from the books to each other. Others were frantically eating muffins to make themselves feel more connected to Olive's character. There were so many people that the queues had disintegrated and just become one massive crowd. It was chaos.

Valkyrie Cain barged impatiently through the crowd, making good use of her elbows. She was nearly at the front when she felt her left one collide with someone's face. It definitely wasn't the first person she'd elbowed in the face that day, but this person felt weirdly familiar. Almost as if she'd elbowed them in the face before. She turned. It was Fletcher.

She frowned. "What are you doing here?"

He glared at her and rubbed his face. "That's going to leave a mark, you know. On the very day I'm relying on my beauty the most. Thanks, Val."

"Are you auditioning?"

"Why else would I be here?" He narrowed his eyes. "Are you auditioning?"

She sighed and looked away, embarrassed. "Yes. I'm auditioning for Valerie. Since she's basically me, I reckon I'm pretty much guaranteed to get the part, and I've always kind of had dreams of Hollywood. Just don't tell anyone."

He nodded. "That's why I'm auditioning, too. Except I'm auditioning for Casper, obviously. Not Valerie."

"Thanks for the clarification."

"I think I should get it, no problem. I mean, Casper is me, just like Valerie is you. Besides, I have experience in showbusiness."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I was in an apple juice ad when I was three. I got the part because I was the cutest."

"I need to see this ad."

"It's not on Youtube," said Fletcher sadly. "I checked. I used to have it on a videotape but I didn't bring it with me when I ran away from home."

"It would've been it a bit weird if you did. So where's Myra?"

Fletcher frowned. "Um, haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" said Valkyrie. "Is she dead?" she added hopefully.

"We broke up because she stabbed me."

"Muffin girl stabbed you?"

"Yep. Here." He showed her the scar.

"Oh well," said Valkyrie. "I suppose she had to snap sometime. It must be hard, always being nice. That's why I don't bother."

"She was a hired assassin all along. Can you believe that?"

Feeling an uncharacteristic wave of sympathy for him, Valkyrie hugged him. "I'm sorry about your crap life."

He hugged her back. "So am I, Val. So am I."

He let go of her. She kept hugging him. He frowned.

"Erm, Val?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you clinging to me like a love-starved koala?"

She let go and stepped back. "Sorry, it's just, you're really hot and you smell nice and I haven't gotten the shift in almost a year. Hey - is that Lana del Rey?"

Fletcher turned around and saw the beautiful auburn-haired woman she was looking at. "Actually... I think that's Scapegrace."

Valkyrie squinted. "Oh my God. Oh my God, it is. What is he doing here? What part could he possibly be auditioning for?"

Fletcher shrugged. "He might make an alright Olive."

"He looks nothing like Myra!"

"I didn't say Myra," Fletcher corrected her haughtily. "I said Olive."

"They're the same person!"

"Not anymore," Fletcher said darkly, and turned away.

Valkyrie rolled her eyes, and looked again. "Hey, Thrasher is with him! God, he's hot. And I never thought I would say that about Thrasher."

"Wow, you are desperate."

Valkyrie punched his shoulder.

"He does look good though," Fletcher admitted. "Hey, maybe he could play me! In the unlikely event that I don't get the part, of course."

Valkyrie turned back to the front. "This is so weird."

A frazzled-looking security guard opened the gate and gestured for Fletcher to go through. Fletcher stepped through it, then glanced back at Valkyrie. "See you later."

Valkyrie nodded. "Wanna hook up after this?"

He paused. "Hmmm. Maybe. I'll call you." And the gate closed.

Three hours later, the two of them sat gloomily in Pizza Hut, picking at their garlic bread. "I can't believe neitherof us even got a callback," Valkyrie said. "I mean, those roles were literally made for us. Are we that shit at acting that we can't even play ourselves?"

"The guy said my performance made him feel physically sick," Fletcher said sadly. "But he was the one who told me to pretend to be an embryo. Why couldn't it have been something I'm good at, like a badger? You love my badger impressions."

"He made me be a fork," Valkyrie scowled. "Then after I did some of Valerie's lines, he told me that I wasn't suited to the character. The character of myself."

"He said he remembered my apple juice ad," said Fletcher. "He said it was his least favourite ad ever."

Valkyrie leaned her chin on her hand. "Ah, well. I suppose we're just not suited to showbusiness. I'd rather be a detective, anyway."

Fletcher nodded. "And I suppose I can stick to bank robbing." He sighed. "I really did want to be in that movie though. After my modelling career fell through, it was my one chance at fame."

"Aww, poor Fletchichetchi." She reached for his hand across the table. "Maybe I can cheer you up?" she added innocently.

He sighed. "Valkyrie, desperation does not suit you."

"Does it suit anyone?" she retorted.

Fletcher shugged. "I think it kind of works for me. It's how I got Myra, after all. Actually, no, wait... she was paid to do that. Never mind."

Valkyrie stood up, sighing. "Just take me back to your place."

"Fine," he said and took her hand. Just before they vanished, he said, "Hey, I wonder who did get those parts?"

Meanwhile, in the Penguinmobile, Thrasher and Scapegrace waited anxiously by the phone. Finally, it rang, and they both jumped and made a grab for it. Scapegrace got it first and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?" he said in a quivering voice.

It kept ringing.

"Er, Master," said Thrasher timidly, "you need to press the answer button."

"I knew that," said Scapegrace and pressed it. He put the phone back to his ear and said "Hello? Yes, yes, this is Vaurien Scapegrace. Mm-hmm... mm-hmm... yes. Yes. What? Really? Oh my God! Thank you!" He did a little dance of jubilation, then calmed down and went back to talking on the phone. "Yes. Absolutely. Sure. See you tomorrow, then. And Thrasher. Bye!"

"Did we get the parts?" Thrasher asked, wide-eyed.

"No, idiot," Scapegrace snapped, "I'm doing a happy dance because we DIDN'T get the parts."

Thrasher looked crushed. "Really?"

"No, Thrasher. That was sarcasm."

There was a pause. "So... we did get the parts?"

Scapegrace sighed. "Yes, Thrasher. I'll be playing Olive in the movie, and you will be my Casper!"

Thrasher shrieked with joy and launched himself at Scapegrace. They clung to each other and danced around the Penguinmobile, which lurched around dangerously, but they didn't notice.

"Hollywood, here we come!"