It was a perfectly peaceful day in the forest. The sun was shining, the warriors were hunting, the kits were playing, the apprentices were smiling, the elders were b****ing about how their bedding was too itchy...ok, forget about all that. That is such a cliched way to start a story.

Suddenly, a girl appeared.

She was a little tall, but a little overweight. She was so pale, you'd swear she was a ghost, though there was no way the Clans could possibly know what a ghost was. Her hair was long, brown, and wavy.

The girl's stormy green eyes, highlighted by black eyeliner and mascara, shone mysteriously.

"Oh my StarClan!" Brambleclaw screamed like a she-kit on sugar. "It's Sparrowsong! And she's actually editing other than to chat and warn vandals!"

"L0L, l1ke, y3@h!" Sparrowsong (or would that be 59@rr0w50ng?) giggled, though there was no way she'd ever act that way in real life. "17'5 m3, 59@rr0w50ng, 7h3 r3@lly-unp0pul@r-ye7-@n-@lr1ght-3d170r @dm1n157r@70r 0f W@rr10rs F@nf1c710n W1k1@!"

"Umm...excuse me?" asked Dovepaw the Mary-Sue, raising an eyebrow (even though cats don't really have eyebrows the same way humans do, as far as I know).

Sparrowsong laughed, twirling her wavy hair.

"Z0MG, D0v39@w, wh@7 on 3@r7h 15 wr0ng w17h y0u? @73 y0u lyk, 73@lly s70091d 0r @ n00I3 0r 50m37h1ng? 1 @m s93@k1ng 93rf3c7ly g00d 3ngl15h!"

The cats had no idea what she was saying, so they all shot themselves in the head in frustration.

Sparrowsong then went back to her normal self.

"Let this be a lesson to you, aspiring writers," she murmured. "Never, ever use 1337 (a.k.a. leet) in a story."

The End

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