Concealed behind a thick pine tree, Main and Buttercup looked at the scene unfolding. The majority of the fans were clumped around a large mound of dirt, decked out entirely in black. A group of Beliebers were brawling. Tears streaked their faces. 

"But I love him!" 

"That's not really him, Alice! We'll find him one day!"

Alice raised her sharpened, nail-adhered nails, and launched at her opponent.

"I have an idea," Main whispered.

He jumped out of their hiding spot. "Attention: ladies, and uh, other ladies!"  

*

All of the aforementioned ladies slowly turned in perfect sync, their tear-filled orbs adhering to Main's triumphant face.

Taking a deep breath, Main closed his eyes, spread his arms, and bellowed: "LOVE ME!"

There was a heavy silence as the fan girls considered his proposition.

*

Buttercup sighed as the fan girls mobbed Main.

Helena Stylinson, having satisfactorily buried the impersonators, ran to face the intruder. She threw her bridal bouquet at his feet. "We only worship the attractive and famous. What are your credentials?"

Main scratched his head. He really hadn't thought this through. "Did I say 'love me'? I meant... uhh... 'submit to my leadership!' For I am the ultimate fan boy."

Helena frowned at him. "What fandoms do you follow?"

"Uhh... Startrek." He raised his hand in a peace sign.   "You know, 'live well and... perspire'?" 

Luckily for Main, his inaccurate quoting was not detected, as the ground had started to rumble.

*

With a mighty "HUUUURRAAUUUURRGH!" Gregory burst through the earth, like a phoenix rising from brown, crusty ashes. He had been restored to his proper fifteen-headed form, and he began to run about and frighten fan girls.

"YOUR STORIES ARE UGLY!" Gregory flamed, literal flames spewing from his numerous mouths. "AND YOUR CHARACTERS ARE UNREALISTIC!"

"It's my story! Don't like; don't read, you prep!" Helena screeched.

Main aimed his AK-47 and shot. Helena burst into flames, aided by Gregory's continued flaming and the inconsistencies of this 'plot.'

*

Looking at the unraveling carnage, Buttercup sighed, and joined in. She bludgeoned her lute about, at times using it as a shield against Gregory's fifteen-headed flame breath. Buttercup took out the fan girls posted in the (previously unmentioned) tree houses. She lobbed her tuning fork at a girl with 5SOS tattooed across her forehead.

"Man," Main said, after the battle. "Weren't we going to recruit these girls?"

He nodded at Gregory, who nodded back with thirteen heads. (Two had been decapitated by the fan mob). Both knew that nodding was a manly, unspoken way of saying 'I'm okay and I missed you.'

"Couldn't care less," Buttercup said, rifling through the corpses' pockets. She nabbed a couple of guitar pics. "Besides, I was getting jealous of not being the token female character."