Author's Note: This story is based on true events. Yes, Virginia, there actually were Gummi Bear Wars. It was a result of the pure, unadulterated stupidity of my friends and me. As moronic as we are, all names but mine have been changed to protect my friends. Instead, they have been given fake names taken from combining those in various comics, books and what-have-you. I must give credit, of course, to my friends, particularly Taylor, who is known here as GuitarDude, for his support and creative input.
Zack Budryk's elbow thudded loudly on the middle of the table. roared the Irish-Portugese Pole. ONE O' YOU BASTARDS WANTS TO ARM-WRESTLE ME? C'MON!
Zack, as it happened, was feeling particularly Irish today, after ingesting a mixture of black coffee and Mountain Dew Code Red (TM). For some reason, it had left him severely inebriated, and Zack was a belligerent drunk.

Rose O'Brien shook her head. She, like Zack, was also of Irish ancestry, but not as fond of reminding everybody and slightly less drunk.
Zack was, as always, accompanied by his unspeakably gorgeous girlfriend, Carol West, a brunette whose vague resemblance to Liv Tyler with a tan prompted many people to inevitably utter the epithet You look vaguely like Liv Tyler with a tan! [Author's note: Carol, and indeed, the concept of me having a girlfriend, is completely made up.]

Sure, I'll arm-wrestle you, said Logan Quatermain. He was a tall, thin kid with a mop of brown hair and a passion for rock. Zack extended his shaking hand. Logan slammed it to the table. Zack made a famous hand gesture (Hint: Not the peace sign).
Hey, guys. What's shakin'? asked Marcus Quintero, coming over with his lunch tray. He was a short Filipino who was slightly more normal than the rest of them, but only slightly.
Logan just kicked Zack's ass. Kyle Banner informed Marcus. Kyle had glasses and short blonde hair in a crew cut. Boy, these people are easy to describe. I should have done this years ago.

The only one at the table who had not yet spoken was Lucy Griffin. A small girl with long brown hair who was the third part of the table's Scotch-Irish trinity, she enjoyed the special privilege of being the only one at the table who wasn't headed straight for the Lake of Fire. She would literally be on Cloud 9 while the rest of her friends were whipped with a cat o'nine tails made from the braided skins of murderers. But that's another story.
Suddenly, Zack dropped his voice and said in a low growl:
That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And w ith strange eons, even death may die.
Everybody groaned. Whenever Zack began quoting H.P. Lovecraft, he went on for hours. For the love of God, go back to arm-wrestling. pleaded Rose. Indeed, Zack's bellicose, drunken challenges were usually preferable to his Cthulhu-themed ramblings. Ph-nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R' lyeh wgah' nagl fhtagn. retorted Zack.
Lucy had had enough. She removed a karambit from her pocket (Note: I like to write about karambits. Karambit's fun to type. Karambit, karambit, karambit.) and pointed it at Zack, who, by this time, was halfway through The Picture in the House. He abruptly shut up.
Now, all wars have to have an incentive. Sometimes, its the growing communist threat. Sometimes, it's weapons of mass destruction. And sometimes, it actually exists. This was one of those times. It was Logan who first caught a glimpse of the sacred talisman. His words on the matter would become a footnote to history: Hey, Gummi Bears! There was indeed a bag of the small, chewy ursines that had been unveiled two tables down. From the look of it, its capacity was about a pound.

Everybody, even Zack, shut up immediately. For you see, today there had been a bit of a schism among the group (hereinafter referred to as that pack of yammering simpletons, or simply TPYS).
It all began when long-standing members Allan Parker, Richard Wayne and Mina Adler had decided to sit at a different table. They had given various half-assed excuses, such as there was no room and let go of my arm, dammit, and their infuriating obstinacy had led to said split.

Unfortunately, when you combined the Judases with the other people at the other table, the brave freedom fighters (whichever side I'm on is automatically a band of brave freedom fighters) were sadly outnumbered.

The three unreasonable traitors had banded with such unsavory types as Meg Summers and Susan Howlett, along with various others. And now they had Gummi Bears. The tiny nuggets of fruity deliciousness were a powerful talisman indeed, and it was imperative that they be in the almost-capable hands of Zack's table.

Logan went over to try and negotiate for the bears. Zack looked over his shoulder to observe the progress of the diplomatic proceedings. Logan was apparently explaining something. This was followed by a series of violent gesticulations, and some yelling. Zack could only make out a bit: , , pickup truck and . Suddenly, Logan was running back to their table like Hell itself was at his heels. he yelled. DUCK, DAMMIT! He was followed by a hail of transluscent, multicolored projectiles of death. Thus began the Gummi Bear Wars.