“Hi there,” greeted the smartly-dressed young man.
Woeisme scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and glanced at her parents. Bela had a warm smile on her face, while Edwood’s stoic expression seemed to signify a quiet annoyance. Something and Jakob were on the verge of tears for slightly different reasons.
Woeisme turned back to her escort. She nervously looked at her feet as her lips let slip a soft, nearly inaudible greeting: “Hi.”
My name’s Fig,” identified the young man. He grinned, displaying the considerable charm that all Mary Sue characters are intended to possess.
“Tell us about yourself, Fig,” said Edwood. His sudden command startled everyone. This sudden interest in anything that wasn’t himself completely contradicted his established character.
“Well,” began Fig, “I’m the son of Juice Newton and a dark, shadowy vampire. I believe his name was William. Or possibly Liam. Something to that effect. I mean, who can tell the difference between all of these faux-romantic bloodsuckers?”
“Hmm,” said Edwood. He possessively laid his hand on Woeisme’s shoulder, giving the impression that he wasn’t about to let his daughter leave with a ninny.
Woeisme looked up at her father and recognized his paternal protectiveness. She suddenly got a rare glimpse into what her mother saw in this lunkhead.
Sensing the growing discomfort, Bela leapt into the fray with the old stand-by. “That’s very interesting!”
“Yeah,” continued Fig, “I actually feel like the composite of fifty-three authorial minds. I’ve got a predilection for rhyme schemes, a penchant for song parodies and an innate understanding of the literary tics of Ernest Hemingway.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s very interesting!”
“Well, Ma’s waiting.” Fig held out his hand to Woeisme. “Are you ready to embark on a rollercoaster ride of rhythm?”
Woeisme took one last look at her loving family and Jakob. She brushed her father’s paw off of her, stepped forward and gingerly laid her hand in Fig’s.
Suddenly and without warning, Woeisme’s inclination to randomly fall madly in love at the drop of a hat – a trait she inherited from her mother – took effect. Her eyes glossed over and her mouth formed a loopy grin.
“Oh, Fig!” exclaimed Woeisme as she melted into her suitor’s arms. “I want you to hold me close forever!”
Fig grinned a devilish grin.
Bela, Edwood and Something collectively gasped.
“Woeisme!” shouted Jakob. “Don’t forget your mission!”
“Of course,” reassured Woeisme. “I will never stray from my mission to become Fig’s bride!”
A blinding flash filled the stage, and the two teens were gone.
• 
Oh golly, poor Woeisme seems to have misplaced herself. Nice ending twist there.