"Re-rebel? Are you cray-crazy?" asked Peeta.

"Maybe I am, Peeta. Or maybe you're a coward. Why don't we find out? By the way, I have a message from Gale." Marc pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and read it. "Katniss, it's Gale. I've decided that you could do better than me, and also I'm into dudes now. Peeta, do you want to touch each other's butts while Katniss finds a new man? P.S. Let's do this rebellion thing. District 14 has lasers, and they're rad."

"Lasers? Do they come in bow form?" I asked.

"Yes, somehow," Marc answered. "I'd be happy to give you private lessons ..."

I hoped the lessons involved looking at his butt. "Then I guess it's time to teach the Abominable President Snowjerk a lesson he'll never forget, once and for all." I heard the cry of several Falolakes on the horizon and raised my bow. "With extreme prejudice."

"Use the Force, just like I taught you, Robb!" Luke watched Robb plunge towards Boba Fett, deflecting laser blasts all the while, and wondered if there would be time to touch his butt later. Just when Luke thought the battle was turning, he saw an AT-ST burst out of the walls of the fortress with one of these so-called White Walkers at the controls. "Not again," Luke thought to himself as he did Force-powered flips toward it.

Miles away, Cersei Lannister sipped her wine and coolly contemplated the captive space princess before her. "So tell me. If this 'Skywalker' is your brother, why are you romantically involved with another man?" she asked.

"What?" the princess asked. Her thoughts had wandered off towards the courageous Ser Marke. In the brief moments she had spent with him before getting kidnapped, she couldn't help but notice that the roguish, handsome knight had a butt that she wanted to touch even more than Han Solo's. Maybe she could get a frozen carbonite mold for those lonely Yavin IV nights.

Before Cersei could explain, the door to the chamber burst open. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?!" Leia exclaimed. "But I thought you were ..."

"Busy podracing?" Obi-Wan smiled. "I'm here to rescue you, Princess. And I'm being helped by a fellow I helped patch up named Ned, who says he'd just like a quick word with Cersei before we leave ..."

"Sure thing, Mr. S."

"Thanks, Mark. Enjoy your date with Olivia Wilde!"

"I'm sure we both will, if you know what I mean." Mark winked and left the office. A moment later, he stuck his head back in. "I mean I'm going to have sex with her," he said.

Bernie Sanders returned to his hard work that would save America. But a minute later, the door opened again. Without looking up he said, "Yes, Mark, I know you meant butt sex."

"It's me, Bernie Sanders," said Hillary Clinton.

"Hillary Clinton?" said Bernie Sanders. "What are you doing here? Not that I think there's anything wrong with women staying late at the office while their husbands take care of the kids."

"I wanted to thank you for defending me over my email scandal."

Bernie Sanders stood and faced Hillary Clinton. "I'm sure you would have done the same for me. As you know, such trivial issues are simply attempts to divide us and distract voters from the real issues."

"That's right." Hillary Clinton stepped closer to Bernie Sanders. "And instead of being divided, I'd much prefer it if we were ... united."

Bernie Sanders took Hillary Clinton by her strong, confident elbows. "In our battle for an America that provides equal opportunity for everyone?"

"Yes, Bernie Sanders, among other things ... but there's something you need to know about my emails. For you see, they harbor a second, secret scandal. One that could completely change our lives."

"What is it?"

"Check your email and find out, Bernie Sanders."

Bernie Sanders checked for new emails and spotted it immediately. It was simply titled 'I Feel the Bern.'"

"Dear Bernie Sanders," it read, "I may be a strong, independent woman who hopes to be the first female President, but I'm also a woman with needs. Your fiery rhetoric and, dare I say it, classically handsome features have inspired a passion in me that I haven't felt since I first met a young, idealistic college student named William Clinton. But Bill is old and dull now, while you, Bernie Sanders, remain as sharp and uncompromising as ever. I feel the burn in my heart, Bernie Sanders, and I feel the burn in my loins. Do you feel it too? Do you feel it in your butt, which I would very much like to touch? Best Wishes, Hillary Clinton."

"Well, Bernie Sanders?" asked Hillary Clinton. Bernie Sanders lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"It's a good thing I support easy access to contraception, Hillary Clinton," said Bernie Sanders. "Because my political instincts are telling me that there's about to be a sudden increase in regional demand."

It's one thing to write fanfiction about real people you'll never meet, but what if it's about people you know? Friends, family, colleagues, people you've looked in the eye? What if you're nervous about showing them that they're perfect for each other? Well, it just so happens that two of my Cracked colleagues have already had fanfiction written about them. And it's not weird to add to an existing canon, right?

Daniel O'Brien was working late at the office, researching presidential facial hair or whatever, when Michael Swaim bounded in.

"Michael, why are you holding your underwear? And approaching me with it? And putting it on my head?"

"Get it? Eh? Eh?" Swaim asked, looking pleased with himself.

"I do not. Is this a thing I should get? Because I don't. I don't get it."

Swaim leaned in right next to Dan's ear. "Dan?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"You're a butthead!" Swaim laughed and slapped his knee. When Dan did neither, Swaim slapped Dan's knee for him. "That's a real knee-slapper, huh?"

"Wouldn't I be an underwear head? Because you put underwear on my head, not a butt?"

There was a long pause.

"Dammit!" Swaim snatched the underwear from Dan's head. "It took me all day to think of that! I guess it's back to the drawing board. If it's okay to call it that, Dan."

"Wait, all day? Is that why you're still here at two in the morning? Just to put underwear on my head?"

"Yeah, I took it off at lunch, and then I just got into a brainstorming thing, you know? Although I did take a break to read Mark Hill's new column."

"Oh, '27 Reasons Chad Is Dumb And Should Suck It. Fuck You, Chad. You Know What You Did And Why I'm Coming For You'? That was fantastic."

"I know, right? But I'm not here to just talk about our incredibly talented and handsome colleague and put underwear on your bu-- underwear head."

Daniel sighed. "Then why are you here, Michael?"

Swaim glanced around the dark, empty office, then leaned in conspiratorially. "I want to talk about your butt."

"Oh please God no."

"Oh please God yes. I want to touch your butt, Daniel. Your butt is nice, and I want to do butt stuff with your butt. Butts."

"I ... I think we should keep our relationship professional."

"Well, I think we should make it probuttional. Come on, Dan. Let me touch that tush. Fondle that fanny. Assess that ass. Detour to that derriere. Grope those grapes."

"Michael, where is this even ... wait, grope those grapes?"

"Recon that rear. Handle that heiny. Brandish those buttocks."

"Okay, I get the idea."

"Tickle that tuchas. Bake those buns. Operate that orifice. Examine that exit. Test that tail. Search that seat. Rub that rump."

"I get it, Michael! Man, there are a lot of synonyms for butt."

"I know, right? And you said it was a waste of time to write a buttsaurus."

"Look, Michael. This is all very sudden. I don't know what to think."

"Yes you do, dammit!" Swaim grabbed Daniel and shook him. "Don't think with this!" Swaim pointed at Dan's head. "Think with this!"

"You just poked my butt."

"That's right. The butt that's spent many late nights at the office parked next to my butt. The butt that's had my butt on all those tight deadlines. The butt that farted in solidarity with my butt when no other butt in the office would. Our butts have seen some shit, man! Literally and figuratively! But they've seen it together."

Daniel looked long and hard. Into Swaim's eyes, I mean. "You know, when you put it like that, it's actually kind of beautiful."

"Just like you and your butt, my friend," said Swaim as his hands drifted down Daniel. "Just like you and your butt ..."