Disclaimer: Thank heavens that I don't own the Inheritance Cycle, and take this piece of advice – don't anger the characters of your novel! Things can get nasty... *grimaces*

WARNING: This fanfic is laced with an unhealthy dose of crack, pointless fluff, and general silliness. Read at your own risk. The Winter Wizard will not be liable for any loss of breakfast, lunch or dinner or sanity for that manner.

Intro: Our favourite characters of The Inheritance Cycle discover the title and plot of the long-awaited Book IV and are not pleased! Err, sort of...

X~X~X~X~X~X

Most of our favourite characters from The Inheritance Cycle were gathered around lazily in a large sunlight pavilion, surrounded by lavish gardens and a vast, lush maze. They were extremely bored and lounging about couches and arm chairs drinking beer and eating Angela's new invention – chocolate cookies.

This group of protagonists is comprised of Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Nasuada, Roran, Katrina, Angela, Solebum, Elva, and King Orik. Even Brom and Selena had come back from the dead for a short visit but had grown so bored due to the absence of the last book of the Inheritance Cycle that they almost considered leaving.

Suddenly, a shadow flew over head and everyone jumped – startled out of their individual trances and various states of boredom.

"Hi ya'll!" Said a husky voice that made Nasuada swoon.

Eragon and Orik spun around and whirled out their sword only to share in shock at who it was. None other than Murtagh, the Red Rider, stood before them in front of Thorn holding a mysterious green book in his arms.

"Well someone's happy to see me," Murtagh drawled.

Eragon blushed but Orik just roared in anger at the king-slayer and charged for revenge. Murtagh side-stepped lazily and Orik zipped right past them, tripping over a rock and successfully passing out. Selena giggled while Brom looked approvingly.

"Good tactics, Murtagh," He said. "I like your strategy."

"Traitor!" Eragon gasped, faking a heart-attack.

"Why thank you Brom," Murtagh said, throwing the old ghost a dazzling smile secretly grinning at Nasuada who had a bit of drool dripping down her chin.

"What do you want, traitor?" Arya spat through clenched teeth.

"I am here on a truce," Said Murtagh. "And to offer you vital information while said truce lasts. It will be crucial information to both sides."

"..." Said Eragon who was still bewildered at Murtagh's calm and almost pleasant behaviour.

"Why are you not attacking us, Rider?" Katrina asked flatly, nudging Roran in the ribs who was clutching his hammer and growling like a dog disturbingly.

"It is The Book!" Murtagh replied mysteriously, his eyes taking on a faraway look and his face sombre.

"OMG!" Angela squealed, making Solebum (who had been in cat form and sleeping on her lap which jerked as she leapt up and down for joy) yelp and hiss in alarm. "Is it what I think it is?"

Murtagh only nodded, trying to act all the more mysterious but Eragon grew weary of his games.

"Give it to me!" He growled, lurching forward suddenly and grabbing for The Book.

Murtagh panicked and dropped the thing like it was hot coals, quickly stumbling back to avoid his crazed half-brother. Eragon smirked gleefully as he caught the book in the air. To the worry and fear of all, he danced around in circles making a high-pitched noise that sounded suspiciously like Tarzan's battle cry.

"Eragon, snap out of it!" Arya shouted.

"Huh?" Orik asked, just then waking out of his reverie and standing up shakily only to crash into Arya as she jumped up to strangle Eragon in hopes of stopping his depravity.

The poor boy had taken to wolf howls and doggie barks now, making everyone cower in open terror. Even Thorn and Saphira were afraid and took a wary step back. Arya was not so afraid though but Orik's stupid decision to wake up at the wrong time caused him to bash into her causing her to trip into Eragon causing the both of them to fall to the ground – on top of each other, mind! – that caused The Book to fly out of Eragon's hands and into the air.

"Wow, that was one huge run-on sentence," Angela said in awe.

But no one heard that for Eragon and Arya were both diving through the air after The Book in Matrix style, no less, with Eragon crying "Noooooooooooooooooooooo!"

"Yes!" A new voice shouted in triumph.

And The Book passed on to a new bearer while Eragon crashed to the floor on his back and Arya flew on top of him so that her midsection near her thighs landed on Eragon's face, which naturally caused Orik to pass out again.

Everyone gasped while the two young people panted for breath, cursing furiously at their bad luck.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Elva shrieked. "His Royal Fatness is here to slaughter us all! Run for your lives!"

Everyone screamed in terror and glanced about to see that The Book had fallen into the hands of none other than the Dark King Voldermort...oops, wrong story!

Take two: Everyone screamed in terror and glanced about to see that The Book had fallen into the hands of none other than the Dark King Sauron of Mordor...oops again! Sorry.

Take Three: Everyone screamed in terror and glanced about to see that The Book had fallen into the hands of none other than the Dark King Galbatorix who ruled Alagaësia with an iron fist (I really don't want to tell you what other perverted things he did to his poor slave girls with that thing).

"Bwahahahahaha!" Galbatorix laughed evilly.

Much to his dismay and sorrow, everyone stopped screaming and stared at him in disbelief.

"Seriously?" Eragon scoffed. "Is that your evil cackle? Because even I sound worse than that on Happy Time."

Everyone grimaced and looked away from him, highly disturbed, Arya in particular.

"What?" Eragon asked. "Doesn't anyone agree with me? I mean, isn't my evil cackle far worse than his? Or what about Murtagh's? Surely someone can cackle better than him!"

"No, Eragon!" Roran cried in distress. "Don't go to the dark side!"

"Okayyyy..." Eragon grimaced. "We're getting off topic here."

"Right," Said Nasuada, snapping out of her reverie. "Galbatorix, I demand that you give us The Book."

"Why?" Galbatorix asked drawled, and holding The Book by only two fingers as if it was Superman's underwear. "It has a dorky cover anyways, and the title is pathetic. And let's not even start talking about the back-page-summary-thing, 'case that would make even J. R. R. Tolkien – gods rest his soul – turn over and over in his grave if he saw this!"

"What?" Angela asked, sounding scandalized. "No it can't be! But it is!"

"Show me," Arya breathed fearfully, dreading the answer.

With such a disgusted sneer that would put even Draco Malfoy to shame, Galbatorix tossed the horrid book to the witch and quickly began to mutter some spells under his breath to cleanse himself from that filth.

"Oh my gosh, it's horrible!" Angela gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Let me see!" Everyone else cried and an epic battle ensued for The Book.

Finally Arya caught it and a look of utter horror crossed her face.

"Worst. Title. Ever!" She managed, a single diamond-like teardrop trickling down her porcelain cheek. "I mean, who would name the long-awaited Book IV Inheritance when the series is already called The Inheritance Cycle. This is awful!"

"You made my girl cry, fowl beast!" Eragon screamed, unsheathing his sword. "And for that I shall kill you – not to mention raising the taxes to an abominable state, keeping slaves like all mediaeval kingdoms do, being mean, worshiping yucky gods, practicing genocide and performing evil, evil magic. You shall die!"

"Didn't you mean 'foul' instead of 'fowl'?" Galbatorix asked stupidly, too confused to see his danger.

"Shouldn't have said that," Murtagh quipped sarcastically and rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about kings that didn't pass fourth grade.

"Oops," Galbatorix gulped.

"For Kung Fuuuuuuuuu!" Eragon said melodramatically, and leapt into the air lopping off Galbatorix's head with one fell swoop.

For a moment, there was a stunned and utter silence. The only sound that could be heard was the dull thud and clatter as the evil king's head rolled over the hedge and fell to the ground. Surprising everyone, Roran came to his senses the first and squealed like a crazed fan-girl.

Angela followed in suit after realizing what the Dragon Rider had just done with Solebum and Elva right behind her. In no time at all, everyone was cheering while Eragon stood there grinning like a fool and basking in his success. Even Murtagh and Thorn were rejoicing since the king's death freed them from their bond.

And to top it all off, Arya ran through to Eragon and leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his back and her arms about his neck; shocking him to the core by kissing him soundly on the lips.

"But I thought you said..." Eragon stammered.

"You thought wrong," Arya said. "Will you take me or not."

"I'll take you to bed if that's what you mean," Eragon retorted, with a delighted smirk.

"Watch it!" Arya growled, and kissed him again.

The crowd cheered all the louder with Saphira and Thorn roaring their approval.

"Gon-gon's got a girlfriend! Gon-gon's got a girlfriend!" Elva chanted gleefully, skipping up and down the pavilion.

Eragon and Arya blushed while everyone else laughed in amusement. Finally, they calmed down when Murtagh cleared his throat purposefully – his expression sombre.

"Hey, guys," He said, catching everyone's attention with his commanding voice making Nasuada swoon. "There's something we gotta do."

Everyone nodded knowingly when Murtagh motioned in disgust to the pathetic Book IV lying on the ground. After agreeing to his plan, they all jumped on Saphira and Thorn who took into the air. All but poor Orik that is, who chose just that moment to stumble up on his short and stocky little legs.

"Where is everybody?" He asked, feeling dizzy.

Then he glanced down at the rotting body of Galbatorix.

"Blimey, Eragon!" He gasped. "We won!"

Unfortunately for Orik, the Eragon in question had just tossed The Book into the air after which The Book promptly hit Orik on the temple, causing him to pass out again.

X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, Christopher Paolini sat hunched over a slimy plastic chair in his evil lair. The atmosphere was dark and oppressive, probably because the only light in the small and dank room was a tiny, eerie green one. The den looked all the more evil due to the cobweb-coated computer and all the dirty, tattered papers scattered messily everywhere. It was the epitome of darkness and evil.

You see, Christopher Paolini had just finished the long-awaited Book IV and was about to take it to Random House and his editors. He could just imagine all the dollar bills flying into his pocket and all the happy screams from crazed fan-girls who were the only thing that kept his not-so-epic book series on the market. So it was that he was just walking to the front door to leave for office, when someone pounded something fierce on it nearly shattering his only window.

"Open up in the name of Nero!" A voice deep voice bellowed freakily.

"Drat!" Christopher cursed, casting about in fear for a place to hide. "Where can I hide?"

"Shut up, idiot!" A female voice hissed in annoyance. "You were supposed to say 'Open up in the name of Hitler' not 'Open up in the name of Nero'. 'Open up in the name of Nero' just sounds pathetic!"

"But I like Nero Burner, it's such a useful tool!" The first voice whined sounding surprisingly girlish and young for a man.

Okay, Christopher reasoned. Maybe these freaks weren't so dangerous after all.

"I'm coming out!" He called. "And I'm armed. I'll only warning you once!"

"Sure, sure, just hurry up already!" Another voice growled in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, Christopher strode forward and opened the door. The last thing he saw before a fist flew into his face was a group of weird people and two dragons all of which who looked suspiciously like the characters her wrote in The Inheritance Cycle.

And then, everything went black!

X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside, Murtagh nursed his bruised fist that he had just used to punch Christopher Paolini in the face.

"Damn it!" He pouted. "That hurt!"

"Maybe I should kiss it and make it better, hmm?" Nasuada cooed lovingly.

"Mmmm!" Murtagh agreed greedily, eyeing the dark-skinned beauty.

"Yay!" Elva shouted. "We toppled the evil tyrant who oppressed us!"

"Hooray!" Everyone cheered.

And then they all clambered onto Saphira and Thorn, all but Eragon and Arya that is who were too busy shagging like bunny rabbits to notice. And when Eragon did it was far too late.

"Noooooooo!" He wailed. "Don't leave me! I'm too young to die!"

"Get over hear, minion!" Arya growled, panting and angry at having their make-out session interrupted.

"Yes, Dark Master," Eragon said eagerly, quickly forgetting his distress.

And the two lovebirds happily continued their *cough, cough* doings *cough, cough* until Saphira finally realised they were gone and came back for them. But two hundred years had already passed by that time. Arya was long dead and Eragon was a weeping, crippled old man who couldn't even climb on his own dragon's back.

Two-leggeds! Saphira harrumphed and took off into the sunset while Eragon stumbled around muttering something under his breath about purple, sparkly unicorns after him.

THE END!

A/N: And the moral of the story is never anger the characters of your book with a crappy title! As you can see, this is all just foolish nonsense but the plotbunny forced me to write it and I had fun doing so. Hope it's not too stupid, and people can get a good laugh out of it. Tell me if you want to do something similar, and I'll think about it. Until then...

...R&R, please! ;)