Why Drinking Is Bad For You
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
841
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
841
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Strange Brew
Why Drinking Is Bad For You
A Never-Ending FFVII Fanfic by Kissy-Chan
Kiss-claimer: I don’t own anything in FFVII, the Jolly Green Giant, the Incredible Hulk, or She-Hulk. I also don’t own a yellow submarine, a PS3 (nor will I ever, unless they remake FFVII for it), a Holy Avenger, or Jenova’s head, although I do know where Jimmy Hoffa is. And I ain’t tellin’.
Anyway, TheCheshireRain gave this idea to me, and she insisted that I write her toddler son and infant daughter into it. She wanted me to write a story involving drugs and/or alcohol with her toddler son and infant daughter. Well, if she insists.
Here is a story warning you to check the expiration date on meat…otherwise, something bad can happen to you. : D Hey, it can happen…by the way, it’s been my trend to cast Cid as the moron in this series. Sorry, Cid fans—if you have another character you want me to make the patsy, lemme know. He’s my favorite character too, so it’s all too easy to make him the doofus.
4 Strange Brew
Cloud drew the lot that night to make dinner. He checked the partys Portable Hole"!, and realized that there wasnt any meat for the chili he had planned. He ground his teeth, and checked their gil pot. lately, there was a lot less gil, and a lot more Locoweed. He shrugged, and turned to his expectant friends.
Everyone but Cid was watching him; Cid was too busy staring at a passing Zemzelett. Cloud rolled his eyes. “Cid! Go and get us some supplies!”
Cid turned to Cloud with a withering glance “Why the fuck do I have to go?”
Cloud spread his hands. “Because you’re the Bruce Springsteen of Final Fantasy. You’ve shown up in every frigging game. You’ll get a better deal than anyone else here.”
“Ahh, fuck me.” Cid got up and grabbed the gil pouch. He cursed the fool who named him Cid, and left for the market.
At the market, one booth sold meat, and it was clear that no one wanted to shop there. A strange miasma hung over it—a green, rotten smell emanated from the slab of meat on the counter. The meat was not that much better. It was as green as the smell. Cid approached it, unmindful of the odor. He couldn’t smell anything but cigarettes, anyway.
The proprietor, accompanied by her two small children, watched Cid draw near, and raised her eyebrows in shock. Since the last shipment of Chocomeat arrived, no one came near her booth. She looked to her older child, and nodded to him. The kid nodded back, and manufactured an ingenuous expression as ersatz as powdered eggs.
“Hiya, Mithter,” he lisped, “gonna buy thome meat today? We’re all real hungry, Mithter. Your purchase will feed me and my thister…will ya feed us?”
Cid frowned at the rugrat. “If yer so damn hungry, why dontcha just eat the meat yer sellin’?”
The kid looked at Cid, appalled. “Gods, no! Uhh…I mean…we’re too little to eat this meat, Mithter. It’s…uhh, thpecial.”
Cid shrugged. “What the hell’s so goddamned special about it?”
The kid lifted his hands to eye level, and waggled his fingers. “It’s maaaaaagic!”
Cid’s jaw sprung open. “What the fuck is so magical about Chocobo meat?” He looked down at it. “And why the hell is it green?”
The kid glanced at his mother quickly, then darted his eyes back to Cid. “Umm, it’s not Chocomeat…it’s Dragon meat! Yeah! An’ it’s thuper-magical!”
“Cool. How much?” Cid reached for his gil pouch, then realized the proprietor had begun to nurse her infant, unmindful (or so it had seemed) of Cid’s glazed-over expression. “Uhhh…tatas.”
The kid glanced at his mother, who rolled her eyes and shrugged. He smiled, and turned back to Cid. “Five hundred gil an ounce, Mithter.”
“Duhhh…I’ll take a pound.” Cid drooled. He paid up, and left with his cargo of doom. The kid dropped the innocent look, and shook his head sadly at Cid.
“Jeez…there’s one born every minute.”
O-O-O-O-O
Back in camp, Cid dropped the package of tainted meat at Cloud’s feet. “Here, fool. Knock yerself out. Fuckin’ hate shopping…”
“Yaay! Soup’s on!” Cloud cut up the Chocomeat, unmindful of the stench or the color, and dumped it into the chili. Three hours later, the tainted meat and bean stew was finished. “Choco-chili is done, guys! Eat up!”
Tifa sidled up to the stew-pot. “Um, Cloud…is Choco-chili supposed to be green?”
“Not usually…Cid? What the hell is this?”
Cid shrugged. “Dragon meat. Why do ya ask?”
Cloud’s jaw dropped to his chest, and he glanced at the gil pouch that hung nearly empty at Cid’s side. “What the hell? How much of our gil did you spend?”
Cid shrugged again. “I dunno. Shit cost 500 gil an ounce, got me a pound of it…”
“YOU SPENT EIGHT THOUSAND GIL ON MEAT?”
“Yeah. Shit’s supposed ta be magical.”
Barret chuckled. “Heh-heh…it betta be, Whitebread, for what y’all paid for it.”
They all got a bowlful of the Choco-chili. Nanaki sniffed at his bowl, and nosed it aside. “I’ll pass. This smells like dookie.”
Cid, who normally gave Choco-anything a wide berth, chowed down on his chili. “Damn! That’s some good chili!”
Nanaki rolled his eyes. “Moron.”
Vincent spooned up the poison stew, and let it dribble back into the bowl. “I’m with Nanaki on this one—this looks like liquid death.” He glanced at Cid, who licked the back of his spoon with gusto. Vincent popped a boner…but you saw that coming. He suppressed it, because he saw a golden opportunity arising. He eyeballed Nanaki, and shrugged gamely.
Nanaki grinned back, and got up to refill Cid’s bowl. How he did that exactly is anyone’s guess, since he doesn’t have opposable thumbs, but work with me on this one, okay? As Cid fell to his second helping, Cloud finished his first bowl. “Yummy…wow, Cid—you were right! This WAS worth eight thousand Gil!”
Tifa got through half a bowl when she felt a weird burning sensation in her gut, and pushed her bowl away. “Yecch. This chili is giving me agita. I need some water.” She stumbled down to a conveniently placed stream.
Barret, who had finished three bowls of the awful chili, got up and shook his head briskly. “Man, I got a headache. I’m gonna lay down.” He fell forward suddenly, and the earth shook when he hit the ground. Yuffie ran to his aid…and slowed down…and stopped. She stared into space. She drooled. She wobbled her head from side to side, and hummed.
Vincent snorted once. So this is what happens when you eat tainted Chocomeat. He pushed the bowl away with force, and sat back to enjoy the show. Or rather…he would have, if he didn’t feel a pair of eyes burning into his back. He turned.
Cid stared at him. He blazed hellfire, and his nostrils flared, and Vincent could swear he was about to belch green fire. Cid stood abruptly, and stomped over to where Vincent sat. He stood over Vincent, and whispered one word. Unfortunately for Vincent, he couldn’t understand him…he could’ve sworn he said hamsters. “Uh, Cid…can you repeat yourself?”
“THEY’RE EVERYWHERE, I TELL YA!” Cid bellowed. Now Vincent was sure he could see green fire in the deepest part of Cid’s throat, banked there like fire in a foundry. He shook his head, dumbfounded.
“What, Cid? What is everywhere?”
Cid nodded to himself, and raised his eyebrows to Vincent. “Hamsters of Doom. They’re everywhere.” He grinned stupidly. “Those little bastards run amok an’ steal yer socks when yer asleep an’ are bein’ ruled by Hextor, God of Naughtiness—who’s makin’ this world his own by makin’ Chocobos mate with humans. Ya see why I have ta kill all the hamsters?”
Vincent stared at Cid, jaw agape. He nodded slowly, and backed away from Cid. “Yes, of course, Cid,” he responded with false sincerity, “I see why you must go and kill all the hamsters. Go forth, Hamster Slayer, and slay all hamsters until they are all…uh…slain!”
“OHHH YEAH!” said Cid, as he ran to a conveniently placed forest to slay all the hamsters.
“Hum…maybe I should’ve said something to the rest of the group…this might be dangerous, Nanaki,” said Vincent, as he watched Cid run off, slavering at the mouth.
Nanaki pursed his leonine lips. “Nah. This’ll be fun.”
Vincent frowned distractedly. “It’s all fun and games, until someone gets hurt.”
“Yeah…then it’s hilarious.”
“Shut up, Nanaki.”
Doom. Doom. Doom. Doom. Doom.
Nanaki blinked. “Do you hear that?”
DOOM. DOOM. DOOM. DOOM. DOOM.
Vincent shrugged uneasily. “Yeah. What the hell is that?”
DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!
“Me angry! You no like me when me angry!”
There, in the deepening gloom, a nine-foot tall, green skinned woman with enormous tatas stood, with her hands on her slab-like hips. She frowned down at Vincent and Nanaki. Nanaki looked at Vincent, and chuffed laughter.
“Check it out, Vincent—it’s the Jolly Green Giant with boobies.”
The green chick’s face was a thundercloud. “What my name?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “And now we get sued.”
Nanaki shrugged his massive shoulders. “We don’t have to rename Tifa the Incredible Hulk, She-Hulk or Shulkie…we can call her the Sulk. It’s a shorter version of She-Hulk, and Marvel won’t tear us a new one.”
“Oh, sure…instead of Marvel suing us, we can have Nuklear Power sue us instead.”
(Kissy aside: Go read 8-Bit Theater at nuklearpower.com. But not now…finish the damn fic first!)
“Tcha…your name is Sulk. Got it?” said Nanaki.
“Okay. Sulk go listen to some Cure albums now.” With that, The Sulk…well, sulked off.
Suddenly the air was redolent with gold dust and cherry blossoms. Vincent looked directly overhead, and saw Yuffie floating serenely, seven or so feet off the ground. Vincent buried his face in his palm. “And what’s your story, Yuffie?”
“I do believe my synapses have begun to fire at a speed of three hundred and thirteen million times per nanosecond, enabling me to process thought and incoming information at the speed of light,” she said. “I can see odors and taste color. I can feel the flutter of a butterfly’s wings on the other side of Gaia. I can see the distance between stars…”
“Enough,” said Nanaki. “Have you seen Barret?”
“Yes. I was able to see into his mind, and I can tell that he likes to wear women’s underwear, and…”
“Um, no. I meant—have you seen him around?”
Yuffie hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “He’s over yonder, trying to dig a hole to the other side of Gaia with his teeth.”
“Wonderful.” Vincent slapped his forehead. “What else could go wrong?”
“CHOCOBOS! I NEED ME SOME CHOCOBOS!” Cloud, naked as the day he was born, streaked through the camp. “I WANNA DO SOME CHOCOBOS!”
“Hah! Ya see what I mean?”
Vincent and Nanaki turned around to see Cid dressed head to toe in hamster skins. He had fashioned armor from a multitude of hamster skeletons. He pointed at Cloud. “He is under Hextor’s spell…I will release him from this world’s wickedness, by smiting him.” He raised his spear—on which he had strung a bunch of hamster skulls—and rushed at Cloud, shrieking: “Cry out CHEEBER! and let slip the hamsters of war!”
“Oy vey.” Nanaki moved to break up the imminent battle, when Barret suddenly erupted from the ground before him. He was grinning widely, and everyone could see his teeth were caked with dirt. He hooked a thumb at the giant hole.
“Y’all gotta see it underground! There’s a big-ass community down there, wit dwarves an’ fairies an’ a castle that’s made of jam! Tasty, tasty raspberry jam! Rally-ho!”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “How long do the effects of dragon meat last?” he asked Nanaki.
“I took the liberty of testing that ‘Dragon-Chili’ myself,” replied Nanaki. “For about five minutes, I thought I was Conan the Barbarian. Then after the effect wore off, there was a trace of the gamy aftertaste of chocobo meat in the back of my throat. Owing to the green color and the weird taste, I’d say that the Choco-meat we ate was three months old, and it spent most of that time in the sun.”
“Eew,” said Vincent colorlessly. “So how long will it be until the rest of them are back to normal?”
“Well, the chili I sampled could fit on the head of a pin, with plenty of room to spare. My trip lasted five minutes. How much did the rest of them eat?”
Vincent raised one eyebrow. “Oh, boy.”
O-O-O-O-O
ONE MONTH LATER…
“Bahamut wept,” said Cid. “I’m never gonna even look at a hamster again fer as long as I live, let alone eat one.”
“I can’t believe you ate those poor hamsters after you skinned them for their pelts. You’re a sick, twisted, perverted old fart,” said Yuffie, her feet solidly planted on terra firma.
“Well, how the fuck was I gonna get all those bones clean fer my armor?”
“At least you guys ain’t hackin’ up wads of congealed dirt,” said Barret.
“You filled up your passport,” said Cloud, as he sat on his giant egg. He apparently got his chocobo. “And you came back here with lots of nice souvenirs and a beautiful little blanket for Junior from Nibelheim.” He started to sob theatrically. “It was so nice of you to think of me, during my time of stress, before the baby is born. I just wish his daddy was still here…”
Cid shook his head slowly. “I don’t know whether ta feel bad fer him, or ta just feel disgusted. I’m just glad this is finally over.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Tifa. “I liked being the Sulk. I got to really enjoy my Smiths albums to the fullest again.”
“Mmm.” Cid glanced around the glade, and frowned. “Hey, has anyone seen Cait Sith?”
O-O-O-O-O
“Aye, Laddie, Ah need me somethin’ fer mah friend’s upcomin’ ‘blessed event’, but Ah cannae fer the life o’ me figger what tae get ‘im. Yeh got any suggestions?”
The little boy raised one skeptical eyebrow at the animatronics Mog and Cat combo. He turned to his mother, grinned evilly, and turned back to his prospective customer. “I got thomthing for you, Mithter.”
Owari…cheeber!
Tune in next time for Episode Five: Divine Retribution! Same bat time, same bat station!
A Never-Ending FFVII Fanfic by Kissy-Chan
Kiss-claimer: I don’t own anything in FFVII, the Jolly Green Giant, the Incredible Hulk, or She-Hulk. I also don’t own a yellow submarine, a PS3 (nor will I ever, unless they remake FFVII for it), a Holy Avenger, or Jenova’s head, although I do know where Jimmy Hoffa is. And I ain’t tellin’.
Anyway, TheCheshireRain gave this idea to me, and she insisted that I write her toddler son and infant daughter into it. She wanted me to write a story involving drugs and/or alcohol with her toddler son and infant daughter. Well, if she insists.
Here is a story warning you to check the expiration date on meat…otherwise, something bad can happen to you. : D Hey, it can happen…by the way, it’s been my trend to cast Cid as the moron in this series. Sorry, Cid fans—if you have another character you want me to make the patsy, lemme know. He’s my favorite character too, so it’s all too easy to make him the doofus.
4 Strange Brew
Cloud drew the lot that night to make dinner. He checked the partys Portable Hole"!, and realized that there wasnt any meat for the chili he had planned. He ground his teeth, and checked their gil pot. lately, there was a lot less gil, and a lot more Locoweed. He shrugged, and turned to his expectant friends.
Everyone but Cid was watching him; Cid was too busy staring at a passing Zemzelett. Cloud rolled his eyes. “Cid! Go and get us some supplies!”
Cid turned to Cloud with a withering glance “Why the fuck do I have to go?”
Cloud spread his hands. “Because you’re the Bruce Springsteen of Final Fantasy. You’ve shown up in every frigging game. You’ll get a better deal than anyone else here.”
“Ahh, fuck me.” Cid got up and grabbed the gil pouch. He cursed the fool who named him Cid, and left for the market.
At the market, one booth sold meat, and it was clear that no one wanted to shop there. A strange miasma hung over it—a green, rotten smell emanated from the slab of meat on the counter. The meat was not that much better. It was as green as the smell. Cid approached it, unmindful of the odor. He couldn’t smell anything but cigarettes, anyway.
The proprietor, accompanied by her two small children, watched Cid draw near, and raised her eyebrows in shock. Since the last shipment of Chocomeat arrived, no one came near her booth. She looked to her older child, and nodded to him. The kid nodded back, and manufactured an ingenuous expression as ersatz as powdered eggs.
“Hiya, Mithter,” he lisped, “gonna buy thome meat today? We’re all real hungry, Mithter. Your purchase will feed me and my thister…will ya feed us?”
Cid frowned at the rugrat. “If yer so damn hungry, why dontcha just eat the meat yer sellin’?”
The kid looked at Cid, appalled. “Gods, no! Uhh…I mean…we’re too little to eat this meat, Mithter. It’s…uhh, thpecial.”
Cid shrugged. “What the hell’s so goddamned special about it?”
The kid lifted his hands to eye level, and waggled his fingers. “It’s maaaaaagic!”
Cid’s jaw sprung open. “What the fuck is so magical about Chocobo meat?” He looked down at it. “And why the hell is it green?”
The kid glanced at his mother quickly, then darted his eyes back to Cid. “Umm, it’s not Chocomeat…it’s Dragon meat! Yeah! An’ it’s thuper-magical!”
“Cool. How much?” Cid reached for his gil pouch, then realized the proprietor had begun to nurse her infant, unmindful (or so it had seemed) of Cid’s glazed-over expression. “Uhhh…tatas.”
The kid glanced at his mother, who rolled her eyes and shrugged. He smiled, and turned back to Cid. “Five hundred gil an ounce, Mithter.”
“Duhhh…I’ll take a pound.” Cid drooled. He paid up, and left with his cargo of doom. The kid dropped the innocent look, and shook his head sadly at Cid.
“Jeez…there’s one born every minute.”
O-O-O-O-O
Back in camp, Cid dropped the package of tainted meat at Cloud’s feet. “Here, fool. Knock yerself out. Fuckin’ hate shopping…”
“Yaay! Soup’s on!” Cloud cut up the Chocomeat, unmindful of the stench or the color, and dumped it into the chili. Three hours later, the tainted meat and bean stew was finished. “Choco-chili is done, guys! Eat up!”
Tifa sidled up to the stew-pot. “Um, Cloud…is Choco-chili supposed to be green?”
“Not usually…Cid? What the hell is this?”
Cid shrugged. “Dragon meat. Why do ya ask?”
Cloud’s jaw dropped to his chest, and he glanced at the gil pouch that hung nearly empty at Cid’s side. “What the hell? How much of our gil did you spend?”
Cid shrugged again. “I dunno. Shit cost 500 gil an ounce, got me a pound of it…”
“YOU SPENT EIGHT THOUSAND GIL ON MEAT?”
“Yeah. Shit’s supposed ta be magical.”
Barret chuckled. “Heh-heh…it betta be, Whitebread, for what y’all paid for it.”
They all got a bowlful of the Choco-chili. Nanaki sniffed at his bowl, and nosed it aside. “I’ll pass. This smells like dookie.”
Cid, who normally gave Choco-anything a wide berth, chowed down on his chili. “Damn! That’s some good chili!”
Nanaki rolled his eyes. “Moron.”
Vincent spooned up the poison stew, and let it dribble back into the bowl. “I’m with Nanaki on this one—this looks like liquid death.” He glanced at Cid, who licked the back of his spoon with gusto. Vincent popped a boner…but you saw that coming. He suppressed it, because he saw a golden opportunity arising. He eyeballed Nanaki, and shrugged gamely.
Nanaki grinned back, and got up to refill Cid’s bowl. How he did that exactly is anyone’s guess, since he doesn’t have opposable thumbs, but work with me on this one, okay? As Cid fell to his second helping, Cloud finished his first bowl. “Yummy…wow, Cid—you were right! This WAS worth eight thousand Gil!”
Tifa got through half a bowl when she felt a weird burning sensation in her gut, and pushed her bowl away. “Yecch. This chili is giving me agita. I need some water.” She stumbled down to a conveniently placed stream.
Barret, who had finished three bowls of the awful chili, got up and shook his head briskly. “Man, I got a headache. I’m gonna lay down.” He fell forward suddenly, and the earth shook when he hit the ground. Yuffie ran to his aid…and slowed down…and stopped. She stared into space. She drooled. She wobbled her head from side to side, and hummed.
Vincent snorted once. So this is what happens when you eat tainted Chocomeat. He pushed the bowl away with force, and sat back to enjoy the show. Or rather…he would have, if he didn’t feel a pair of eyes burning into his back. He turned.
Cid stared at him. He blazed hellfire, and his nostrils flared, and Vincent could swear he was about to belch green fire. Cid stood abruptly, and stomped over to where Vincent sat. He stood over Vincent, and whispered one word. Unfortunately for Vincent, he couldn’t understand him…he could’ve sworn he said hamsters. “Uh, Cid…can you repeat yourself?”
“THEY’RE EVERYWHERE, I TELL YA!” Cid bellowed. Now Vincent was sure he could see green fire in the deepest part of Cid’s throat, banked there like fire in a foundry. He shook his head, dumbfounded.
“What, Cid? What is everywhere?”
Cid nodded to himself, and raised his eyebrows to Vincent. “Hamsters of Doom. They’re everywhere.” He grinned stupidly. “Those little bastards run amok an’ steal yer socks when yer asleep an’ are bein’ ruled by Hextor, God of Naughtiness—who’s makin’ this world his own by makin’ Chocobos mate with humans. Ya see why I have ta kill all the hamsters?”
Vincent stared at Cid, jaw agape. He nodded slowly, and backed away from Cid. “Yes, of course, Cid,” he responded with false sincerity, “I see why you must go and kill all the hamsters. Go forth, Hamster Slayer, and slay all hamsters until they are all…uh…slain!”
“OHHH YEAH!” said Cid, as he ran to a conveniently placed forest to slay all the hamsters.
“Hum…maybe I should’ve said something to the rest of the group…this might be dangerous, Nanaki,” said Vincent, as he watched Cid run off, slavering at the mouth.
Nanaki pursed his leonine lips. “Nah. This’ll be fun.”
Vincent frowned distractedly. “It’s all fun and games, until someone gets hurt.”
“Yeah…then it’s hilarious.”
“Shut up, Nanaki.”
Doom. Doom. Doom. Doom. Doom.
Nanaki blinked. “Do you hear that?”
DOOM. DOOM. DOOM. DOOM. DOOM.
Vincent shrugged uneasily. “Yeah. What the hell is that?”
DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!
“Me angry! You no like me when me angry!”
There, in the deepening gloom, a nine-foot tall, green skinned woman with enormous tatas stood, with her hands on her slab-like hips. She frowned down at Vincent and Nanaki. Nanaki looked at Vincent, and chuffed laughter.
“Check it out, Vincent—it’s the Jolly Green Giant with boobies.”
The green chick’s face was a thundercloud. “What my name?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “And now we get sued.”
Nanaki shrugged his massive shoulders. “We don’t have to rename Tifa the Incredible Hulk, She-Hulk or Shulkie…we can call her the Sulk. It’s a shorter version of She-Hulk, and Marvel won’t tear us a new one.”
“Oh, sure…instead of Marvel suing us, we can have Nuklear Power sue us instead.”
(Kissy aside: Go read 8-Bit Theater at nuklearpower.com. But not now…finish the damn fic first!)
“Tcha…your name is Sulk. Got it?” said Nanaki.
“Okay. Sulk go listen to some Cure albums now.” With that, The Sulk…well, sulked off.
Suddenly the air was redolent with gold dust and cherry blossoms. Vincent looked directly overhead, and saw Yuffie floating serenely, seven or so feet off the ground. Vincent buried his face in his palm. “And what’s your story, Yuffie?”
“I do believe my synapses have begun to fire at a speed of three hundred and thirteen million times per nanosecond, enabling me to process thought and incoming information at the speed of light,” she said. “I can see odors and taste color. I can feel the flutter of a butterfly’s wings on the other side of Gaia. I can see the distance between stars…”
“Enough,” said Nanaki. “Have you seen Barret?”
“Yes. I was able to see into his mind, and I can tell that he likes to wear women’s underwear, and…”
“Um, no. I meant—have you seen him around?”
Yuffie hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “He’s over yonder, trying to dig a hole to the other side of Gaia with his teeth.”
“Wonderful.” Vincent slapped his forehead. “What else could go wrong?”
“CHOCOBOS! I NEED ME SOME CHOCOBOS!” Cloud, naked as the day he was born, streaked through the camp. “I WANNA DO SOME CHOCOBOS!”
“Hah! Ya see what I mean?”
Vincent and Nanaki turned around to see Cid dressed head to toe in hamster skins. He had fashioned armor from a multitude of hamster skeletons. He pointed at Cloud. “He is under Hextor’s spell…I will release him from this world’s wickedness, by smiting him.” He raised his spear—on which he had strung a bunch of hamster skulls—and rushed at Cloud, shrieking: “Cry out CHEEBER! and let slip the hamsters of war!”
“Oy vey.” Nanaki moved to break up the imminent battle, when Barret suddenly erupted from the ground before him. He was grinning widely, and everyone could see his teeth were caked with dirt. He hooked a thumb at the giant hole.
“Y’all gotta see it underground! There’s a big-ass community down there, wit dwarves an’ fairies an’ a castle that’s made of jam! Tasty, tasty raspberry jam! Rally-ho!”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “How long do the effects of dragon meat last?” he asked Nanaki.
“I took the liberty of testing that ‘Dragon-Chili’ myself,” replied Nanaki. “For about five minutes, I thought I was Conan the Barbarian. Then after the effect wore off, there was a trace of the gamy aftertaste of chocobo meat in the back of my throat. Owing to the green color and the weird taste, I’d say that the Choco-meat we ate was three months old, and it spent most of that time in the sun.”
“Eew,” said Vincent colorlessly. “So how long will it be until the rest of them are back to normal?”
“Well, the chili I sampled could fit on the head of a pin, with plenty of room to spare. My trip lasted five minutes. How much did the rest of them eat?”
Vincent raised one eyebrow. “Oh, boy.”
O-O-O-O-O
ONE MONTH LATER…
“Bahamut wept,” said Cid. “I’m never gonna even look at a hamster again fer as long as I live, let alone eat one.”
“I can’t believe you ate those poor hamsters after you skinned them for their pelts. You’re a sick, twisted, perverted old fart,” said Yuffie, her feet solidly planted on terra firma.
“Well, how the fuck was I gonna get all those bones clean fer my armor?”
“At least you guys ain’t hackin’ up wads of congealed dirt,” said Barret.
“You filled up your passport,” said Cloud, as he sat on his giant egg. He apparently got his chocobo. “And you came back here with lots of nice souvenirs and a beautiful little blanket for Junior from Nibelheim.” He started to sob theatrically. “It was so nice of you to think of me, during my time of stress, before the baby is born. I just wish his daddy was still here…”
Cid shook his head slowly. “I don’t know whether ta feel bad fer him, or ta just feel disgusted. I’m just glad this is finally over.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Tifa. “I liked being the Sulk. I got to really enjoy my Smiths albums to the fullest again.”
“Mmm.” Cid glanced around the glade, and frowned. “Hey, has anyone seen Cait Sith?”
O-O-O-O-O
“Aye, Laddie, Ah need me somethin’ fer mah friend’s upcomin’ ‘blessed event’, but Ah cannae fer the life o’ me figger what tae get ‘im. Yeh got any suggestions?”
The little boy raised one skeptical eyebrow at the animatronics Mog and Cat combo. He turned to his mother, grinned evilly, and turned back to his prospective customer. “I got thomthing for you, Mithter.”
Owari…cheeber!
Tune in next time for Episode Five: Divine Retribution! Same bat time, same bat station!