Originally posted during the sporking of Malfoy Gone Wrong.

Unsortable, that's how you are
Unsortable and uniquely bizarre
With your speshul eyes and pranking ways
In all the Sorting Hat's countless days
Never before has a Sue been more

Unsortable in every way
In Eximius is where you'll stay
So, Miss Malfoy, it's incredible
That a Sue so damn exceptional
Still deems Charlie to be worthy of you

(Original "Unforgettable" lyrics):

Unforgettable, that's what you are
Unforgettable though near or far
Like a song of love that clings to me
How the thought of you does things to me
Never before has someone been more

Unforgettable in every way
And forever more, thats how you'll stay
That's why, darling, its incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too

Originally posted during the sporking of Alex Potter's Life at Hogwarts.

Evil warlords,
Hags and giants,
Eaters of death,
Take a deep breath!
Order of the Phoenix,
On a killing spree,
Let's go hunt a Horcrux,
Alex, wait and see.

Cissy Malfoy is probably screwing,
and Fenrir Greyback is probably chewing,
while Lucius Malfoy
is busy reviewing his will.
Ginny and Percy
and Freddie and George
are all peachy.
Severus Snape,
Luna Lovegood
And dear Colin Creevey.

Crabbe and Goyle,
Chasing Draco . . .
(Instrumental)
Anything you
can imagine . . .
No one good dies.
What a surprise!
Downstairs in the dungeons,
Over Severus' knee!
Let's go hunt a Horcrux,
Alex, you and me!

Original "Let's Go to the Movies" lyrics (from Annie):

(Grace) Cowboy heroes,
cops and robbers,
glamour and strife,
bigger than life!
Sitting in the darkness,
what a world to see!
Let's go to the movies,
Annie, wait and see.

Betty Davis is probably lying,
and Greta Garbo is probably crying,
while Robert Taylor
is locked in her dying embrace.
Chico and Groucho
and Chaplin and Lloyd
are all super.
Sweet Mickey Mouse,
Shirley Temple,
and dear Jackie Cooper.

(Grace) Fred and Ginger
spinning madly . . .
(instrumental break)
Anything you
can imagine . . .
Songs and romance.
Life is the dance.
Sitting in the darkness,
popcorn on your knee!
(Grace and Warbucks) Let's go to the movies,
Annie, you and me!

Originally posted during the sporking of Interview with a Werewolf.

Shall I compare thee to a greasy bat?
Thou art in need of toiletries, like soap.
Why must thy hair forever clump and mat?
Thy breath could be improved upon with Scope.
Thy robes are shapeless, black, and out of trend,
And comeliness is quite in short supply.
But all thy years of ugliness shall end;
A Ginny Weasley makeover is nigh!
Thy hair can be as cornsilk when she's done;
Thy clothes from Juicy, Lela Rose, and Saks.
The girls around shall flock, their hearts all won;
Thou soon wilt have them dancing on their backs.

Else, long as noses smell or eyes can see,
Thou, Snape, wilt lack a lady's company.

btyrhrtout mentioned those "Santa Visits a Soldier" spam emails when we sporked The Christmas Shoes, which is a pet peeve of mine, also. I like hiding my head in the sand as much as the next person, but for once I'd like to get an email like this one:

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all 'cross Iraq
All the soldiers were thinking they'd never get back.
In defense of our freedom, they'd taken up arms
After Bushy the younger raised several alarms.
Hey, I fell for it, too; there was ass to be kicked!
An assault not a soul had foreseen to predict!
There'd been rumors of weapons and stored yellowcake,
Except . . . whoops! We attacked the wrong place by mistake.
But as long as we're here, let's adapt and be strong;
Surely no one will guess it was planned all along.
Any questions? Just read them the Patriot Act.
Send out Bush-praising spam 'til the servers are cracked.
Must the protesters always as traitors be viewed?
You can cherish our troops and still think they got screwed.
Well, be that as it may, let us stifle our sighs;
Maybe Santa will bring them a Christmas surprise!
Except Santa can't come; no, the sleigh didn't crash . . .
Turns out Madoff was managing all Santa's cash.
This is fresh off the press, just this hour exposed:
All the elves were laid off when the workshop foreclosed.

For all those who were planning to donate, or who received the PayPal refund already with the note that I'd be posting an explanation, I'm so sorry to tell you that the collection had to end. I received a message from pottersues, who unfortunately got a complaint from someone, so she's asked that I stop soliciting commenters for funds. I was really upset to have caused her any inconvenience, because I never dreamed anyone would think she was behind the whole thing.

She has (graciously) declined to accept the gift that we've been collecting for over the past couple weeks, so I've been issuing the refunds for a little over an hour (that's why some of you didn't see any new messages when you checked the journal right at the beginning). I probably should have done it the other way around – posted the message before starting on the refunds - but I didn't think it would take so long, plus I had just gotten home from some travesty of a job fair and was a little frazzled. (Who, in their right mind, brings their kids to a job interview and lets them run rampant? Gee, that practically screams "Hire me!")

Even though it didn't work out, I can't thank those of you who donated enough for your enthusiasm. We were at $113.39 at the end there, which was technically our goal, since I would have made up any amount we were short after that point. You all deserve a hand for that! Most of the donations came with really excited messages, and I feel horrible letting you all down. :o( In the immortal words of Trixie Lane, "Oh dip." And thanks also go out to those who couldn't donate - what's this "recession" I keep hearing about? :o) - but were mature enough to simply respond with your reasons or delete the message. Now, all PayPal refunds have already gone out, and the mail donations will be returned tomorrow and/or as they come in, along with a stamp (unused!) for your trouble. Thanks so much to you guys!

Thanks, adeluxe, an anonymous donor, automaticdoor, bellereve_, camwyn, captainjulieif, eatmyphotons, emeryboard, gretchystretchy, ridureyu, schroduck, she_burns1, sinkinto_heart, the_good_ship, urizanegao, ushiramen, wilver_and_ecru, and winterlarks!

Originally posted during the sporking of Her Father's Eyes.

In the locker room at Hogwarts, Wood and Diggory had sex
Then when Ollie became pregnant, everything got too complex
Cedric had a bright clear future; Ollie wouldn't see him wed
Though to raise a child single filled his heart with heavy dread.

It all started after Quidditch (when dementors tried to play)
In a hidden copse of trees they thought of tender things to say
Meeting secretly for months, they kept their secret pretty well
Without Dumbledore exclaiming, "Motherfu[c]kers, what the hell?"

Well, it must have been a shock to Ollie's parents when they heard
That their only son was pregnant (isn't that a bit absurd?)
But his mother's only comment with the truth before her spread?
"Hon, I thought you would continue with your Quidditch games instead."

When a curse from Peter Pettigrew slew Cedric in his prime
Wood was certain from the morass of his grief he'd never climb
Then his little girl was born; above the racket of her cries
He saw a piece of Cedric living in those pale blue-green eyes.

Originally posted during the sporking of The Rise of Diggory. I have to include the original Song of Lazarus here or you'd think I was insane. If you don't already.

Here's the tune: Song of Lazarus. It helps if you use "Open in New Window" so it's playing while you read.

Laz-rus was a friend of Je-sus.
One day he so ill be-came.
Je-sus did not go right to him
So glo-ry would come to His name.

Laz-rus died. Je-sus came.
Mar-tha met Him on the way.
"Lord if you had been he-re
He would not have died that day."

Je-sus com-fort-ed his fri-end.
"He who be-lieves in Me will live."
Je-sus wept with his good friends and
Gave what on-ly He could give.

"Laz-a-rus, now come out!"
He came from the tomb straight-way.
"Un-bind him. Let him go-o."
What re-joic-ing on that day!.

oOo

Ced-ric was the son of A-mos.
Then he died at Pe-ter's hand.
But I guess he had fore-seen it
Re-sur-rec-tion was all planned.

Ced-ric died. Slug-horn came.
A-mos met him on the way.
"Now that you have made that po-tion
We can bring him back to stay."

Slug-horn found the room unner-ving.
Amos re-a-ssured his friend:
"You would not want to give up now
Not when we're so near the end."

Ced-ric rose up from the cof-fin.
Arms and legs he did ex-tend.
"Get a to-wel. And some clo-othes
I've a wed-ding to attend!" 

Originally posted during the sporking of Ellen Hammond. The Suethor couldn't rhyme to save her soul; it is not that hard.

My Ellen led a life of quiet pain
She of the lilac hair and eerie eyes
Her death upon my heart has placed a strain
I did not see her sorrow, hear her cries

The Hat did say I was a Hufflepuff
And in that House I found my niche of kin
Yet were I Gryffindor, so brave and tough
Perhaps I could have saved her from her sin

That one so young should find her life so bleak
And every day a weighty cross to bear
Those whose approval she did vainly seek
Upon her soul their taunts gave constant wear

I shan't long bear the burden of her loss
In sixth year I shall follow her across.

Originally posted during the sporking of The Hufflepuff Hottie. References to these three sporkings, plus of course My Immortal and A Brief History of Not-Bob.

If your Draco-Stu is busy finding different girls to pork

While your Mary-Sue (his tru wuv) says he’s acting like a dork

And Caucasian Blaise “Zambini” sits there grumbling like an Orc

Then beware the angry minion coming at you with a spork.

If your Harry-Stu is pregnant (man, that labor’s gonna suck)

But his Muggle husband Michael beats him up and runs amok

And now Dumbledore is screaming, “WHAT THE MOTHER-FRIGGIN’-FUCK?!”

Well, your characters aren’t canon and the “Caps Lock” key is stuck.

If your Snape lives in Romania, not Ashton-Under-Lyne,

Harry seems somewhat vampiric, but can stand in bright sunshine

And you wonder why we “lesbianic minions” dare to whine

See, there’s HP, then there’s Twilight; those two never should combine.

If your story’s up and posted, and reviews for which you yearn

Are anonymous-enabled to give everyone a turn

Yet from our constructive criticism you refuse to learn

Then by Merlin, Zeus, and Ptolemy, this bitch is gonna burn.

If our fun at your expense has caused emotional distress

And your grievance Lady pottersues has failed to redress
Now you’re contemplating from the land of fanfic swift egress
Why not shut down the computer and try tennis, bridge, or chess?

Also posted during the sporking of Electricity:

Originally posted during the sporking of Electricity.

In the first month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Some random stupidity . . .

In the second month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Two caring Snapes . . .

In the third month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Three OCs . . .

In the fourth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Four Animagi . . .

In the fifth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Five pregnant men . . .

In the sixth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Six Riddle daughters . . .

In the seventh month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Seven Draco man-whores . . .

In the eighth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Eight white “Zambini”s . . .

In the ninth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Nine girls named Serena . . .

In the tenth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Ten where I’m the story . . .

In the eleventh month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me

Eleven emo Gothics . . .

In the twelfth month of miniondom, the Suethors gave to me
Twelve that cross with Twilight . . .

Originally posted during the sporking of Child of Necromancy, Spawn of Dementor. Tune of “Chestnuts Roasting On an Open Fire.” sinkinto_heart, I blame you. You called my poems “Sue carols.” All right, slowly with soul like Nat King Cole, folks:

Suethors posting on the Internet

Have no clue their writing blows

Young emo girls getting both feet wet

With the purplest purple prose

Everybody knows a wood stool and the Sorting Hat

Help to place the students right

Often Sues can’t be told where they’re at

They’re too speshul, kewl, and “bright”

They know that Draco’s on his way

He’ll take them back to Slytherin to play

And every other boy is gonna cry

As if more Mary-Sues were in short supply

And so we send around this simple plea

"Creators of a Mary-Sue:

Although we all know speech is technically free

Originally posted during the sporking of Dragons.

There once was a young girl named Long
Whose English was not very strong.
Could she read it? She could,
But was it understood?
. . . Well, sometimes understanding was wrong.

Originally posted during the sporking of The Daughter of Voldemort.

Here comes Mary Sue

Transfer student to

Hogwarts (Witchcraft) School

Chocolate-brown hair and speshul eyes, she embodies all that’s kewl

Hear that old hat huff and puff ’cause she’s so hard to sort

She’s a goddess in bed

And turns every boy’s head

Originally posted during the sporking of Secrets and Silk Sheets.

Suethors write . . . then post their fiction

Upon them all . . . a malediction

It’s a mind-boggling sight

On good writers, a blight

Slogging through a Suethor’s AU-land.

Gone away . . . are the days when

Writers tried . . . to stick to canon

And for now these fics force

Eyes and brain to divorce

Slogging through a Suethor’s AU-land.

In a Word doc we can build a Stu-man

And pretend that he is Harry P.

He’ll say: Is this canon?

We’ll say: No, man,

But neither is a male pregnancy.

Later on, we’ll share opinions

With pottersues' LiveJournal minions

We shall spork without blame

All the Suethors we flame

Slogging through a Suethor’s AU-land.