DISCLAIMAH!!!! - - - I do
not own A:TLA. It belongs to Bryke (isn't it cute how they got their
own little namesquish now??? Aww...). HOWEVAH I have Aang in my
closet, dressed as a teddybear, fearing for his life (and possibly
his innocence). I don't think Bryke (aww...) knows this. If they take
him back though, I'll just steal Noah Ringer. That way I always
win... [Note from PhantomAlchemist: The beta of this all too
serious story is PhantomAlchemist. If you still find a
mistake...don't kill me. This is a nightmare job!] A/N: This
is set during DOBS...'cept the canon's all f-ed up for the sake of
the crackedness.
()_()
=o.o=
( )o
bunneh
It was a boring day in the Fire Nation capital. Fire Lord Ozai and his five most trusted generals (and the Zhao sock puppet one of the generals had made to keep Ozai company...he missed Zhao...) all sat in the war room shooting the breeze. Sure, they could be planning an attack that would overthrow the rest of the Earth Kingdom and the Northern Water Tribe in a single maneuver. Sure, they could have been adjusting the budget so that the royal treasury could start some nancy-boy ooh-you-lost-your-leg-in-the-war-here's-some-money fund. Suuure, they probably should have already started on a plan for the eclipse that was going to happen later that day. As a matter of fact, they could have been doing anything to better their country and the people who lived in it on that particular day. Instead, they decided to screw with the new intern.
A young boy, maybe fourteen or fifteen, came into the war room, bowed politely, and approached the Fire Lord with a handful of blank scrolls. The boy was already on edge as it was. Not only did his girlfriend break up with him because he "wasn't like Kenji" (the vampire protagonist in a book series she was addicted to), but his head happened to be swimming with the horror stories from the other interns who once served under the Fire Lord.
FWOOM
A jet of fire came from nowhere and quickly incinerated the scrolls in the intern's sweaty hands. He dropped the still-flaming pieces of charred paper and began stamping on them. When the fire was put out, the intern dropped to his knees, panting in exhaustion. He looked up to meet the Fire Lord's eyes. His cold, cruel, did-you-just-ruin-my-royal-carpet?! eyes.
"S-sir, I--" the intern began, but was cut off.
"WHERE are my scrolls, boy?!?!?"
The intern's eyes widened. "B-but! You saw! The fire and the...the..."
Defeated, the boy fell to the floor, ready to plead for mercy. The Fire Lord slithered (yes, slithered) out of his thrown and slowly walked towards the intern. He knelt next to the boy and whispered into his ear in a creepy voice.
"Do you know what I did to my son when he disobeyed me?"
"P-p-publically humiliat-ted, banished, and per-permanently sc-scarred him?"
"...Uh, no...Before that..."
"M-mentally abused him until he became the shaggy-haired emoboy he is now?"
-sigh- "NO, after that!"
"Umm..."
"I TOLD HIM TO GET MORE PAPERS BEFORE HE DIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! NOW RUN, BOY, RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
And ran he did.
The generals immediately burst into laughter, all patting the back of the particular general who quite sneakily set the scrolls on fire. General Fong stuck his hand into SockPuppet!Zhao and made him laugh along with them (for the record, it was a very Zhao-like laugh.) When all of the calamity was over, Generals Fong, Long, Dong, Kong, and Mo relaxed in their seats, sipping on tea cups of water (because Ozai's first act as Fire Lord was to deem tea as "uncool")
General Long let out a hearty laugh. "This intern is fun. Too bad we'll have him in an institution before long."
General Fong elbowed him in response, making both men burst out into giggles. General Mo joined in.
"Yea! He'll be all 'Oh no! Fire! It makes me craaaaaaazy!' and stuff."
"Shut up, Mo."
"..."
The room was silent once again, except for Mo's sniffles and the giggles when Fong made SockPuppet!Zhao's google eyes shake.
"You know," General Kong said, breaking the silence, "somehow my wife suckered me into making supper last night."
General Fong chuckled. "My wife did the same thing. I ended up burning the duck and the potatoes turned to dust!"
Pretty soon, all of the generals began sharing cooking experiences.
Let me now state that there was absolutely no (0%) tension and/or discomfort in the room until Mo opened his big, stupid mouth.
"Hey, Ozai! Did you ever cook a meal for your family?"
Fong clubbed Mo in the back of the head. Not because he brought up two (yes, two!) zed topics (family and the Fire Lord actually being as lowly as to cook his own food). No, Fong just didn't like Mo's face.
Ignoring the violence below, the Fire Lord shifted uneasily in his thrown.
"I cooked food before..." he muttered quietly.
All of the generals gave the Fire Lord respected silence...yes, except for Mo.
"Aw, sweet! What happened?"
"Mo, SHUT YOUR FACE!!!!"
Fire Lord Ozai stood proudly in front of his throne. The flames surrounding him threw crimson shadows onto his face. For a second, a hint of a smirk was visible.
" 'What happened?' " The Fire Lord repeated mockingly. "It was...perfect."
This was enough to summon a silence that even SockPuppet!Zhao could not defeat.
Then, as if on cue, the doors to the war chambers creaked opened. A nervous intern walked in with another armload of blank scrolls.
FWOOM
"WHERE ARE MY PAPER'S, BOY?!?!?"
()_()
=n.n=
(
)o
'notha bunneh
It was almost noon, and the kitchen was empty except for the Fire Lord. He had spent the better part of an hour gazing intently at the items in the kitchen cupboard. Nothing seemed to catch his eye, but that did not mean in the LEAST BIT that he was giving up. Being pulled into the spotlight like that and almost humiliated in front of his men had given birth to this culinary challenge he had presented himself with. No, he would not leave the kitchen (or even the cupboard!) until he devised a winning strategy.
As Ozai scanned the starch section for the millionth time, an idea began to take shape. This would be his greatest achievement yet...
()_()
=X.x=
( )o
dis
bunneh puts all other bunnehz to shame!
Thirty minutes before the eclipse, the Fire Lord put a pot of noodles on the stove to boil. The Avatar and his invasion party were trying not to laugh at Sokka's speech.
Twenty minutes before the invasion, Ozai drained the noodles and mixed them in with the final ingredients. Aang was on top of a submarine sealing the Kataang ship.
Ten minutes before the invasion, Ozai pulled his children and their friends out of the underground sanctuary and forced them into the dining room. Aang was on his way to the palace.
Five minutes before the invasion...all canon was destroyed.
Azula poked at the contents of her bowl with distaste. She noticed her friends and her brother staring into their bowls looking almost as if they were trying to figure out an abstract painting. No one had said a word since Ozai had forced them into their seats and shoved a pair of chopsticks into each of their hands. Now he stood against the wall, arms crossed with a super-strict glare ready to meet the eyes of the first complainer.
Princess Azula took a deep breath and stuck her chopsticks into the bowl. When she pulled them out, she noticed two things. One: the cheese was so rubbery and bite-proof that it could have been used for a weapon of mass destruction, and two: her father had succeeded at liquefying noodles. Finally, she took a bite of the steel-cheese and squishy-noodles substance.
Her father shot her a questioning (and threatening) look.
"So?"
Azula cleared her throat. "Well, Father. It's...um....what is it?"
"Looks a lot like cheese mush," Mai muttered.
Zuko's eyes widened. He began elbowing his girlfriend and coughing uncontrollably.
"Ukgh, ukgh! Shut up, Mai. Ukgh, ukgh!"
Mai pushed her bowl away in disgust.
"Listen, I don't care if you are the Fire Lord. I am not eating this smut."
Ozai advanced towards the table. "Why you smug little child!!!"
"I think it's great!!!" Ty Lee piped in, but to be honest, no one really cared what she had to say.
Ozai was busy trying to kill Mai, Mai was busy being killed, Zuko didn't know who he should have sided with because, frankly, he was afraid of both of them, and Azula was simply watching the show.
During all of this insanity, Aang kicked the dining room doors open.
He pointed his staff at Ozai.
"Fire Lord Ozai! The time has come for your era of hate and violence to end!"
"And you are..."
Aang was taken aback for a second. In all of his nightmares and Sokka-induced scenarios, this certainly had never come up. He kindly pointed towards his arrows and airbent his official monk outfit, but that didn't help the confused king one bit.
"Um, okay... I'm. The. Ava. Tar." He said slowly.
Ozai slapped his forehead in mock spite.
"Oh, really? See I assumed you were dead because someone let word get around that he killed you. Isn't that idiotic of that person?"
Aang scratched his head. "Yea, that does sound sort of stupid..."
Zuko slipped down into his seat while his sister hissed across the table, "I knew it!"
Aang took this time to plan out his strategy.
"Okay. There's one, two, three firebenders and...two weaponry and combat experts. I could probably take them alone, but it'll be harder without being able to use the Avatar State...SHOOT!" Aang slapped his forehead. "Forget I said that!"
Ty Lee's hand shot up in the air. "Already did!!!"
"Good. Now all I have to do is act like I know what I'm doing until the rest of the invasion task force...DOUBLE SHOOT!!! FORGET THAT, FORGET THAT, FORGET THAT!!!"
Ty Lee's hand shot up in the air again, but this time Ozai pushed her to the floor in time. He picked up her bowl and approached Aang with it.
"Young Avatar. You have put me into quite the predicament. However, if you try, and enjoy, the meal I have prepared, I will let you live."
Ozai offered the bowl to Aang. After a few seconds of thinking it over, Aang took it. Tasted it. And spit it out.
"Ugh! What is this?! Ugh, gross! I've had onion and banana juice that tasted better than this!!!"
Ozai closed his eyes remorsefully.
"I see you have sealed your fate."
This was the moment, the one that had been dwelling in the child's conscious and subconscious fears for a year. Aang closed his eyes as he prepared for the end.
Seconds passed by and turned into minutes. Aang began get impatient. Where was the end? What was it's problem? Did it think is was special and didn't have to come when it was called upon?!
Aang opened his eyes to find the Fire Lord bowed at his feet.
"Um...Ozai?"
"Teachmehowtocook," he mumbled.
Aang stood blinking for a second. Really? Was this really how the war was ending? Well that wasn't very fun at all...
"Um, sure?" Aang finally said. Much to his surprise, and to that of pretty much everyone else in the room, Ozai's eyes lit up.
He grabbed the Avatar by the collar and pulled him into the kitchen. He was eager to get the lesson started.
The dining room stayed silent as the four teens tried to get a grip back on reality. Mai was the first to speak.
"Well that was uneventful. I was hoping the Avatar bursting in would have at least started a fight, but...whatever."
Zuko, still at eyeball level with the table, looked to his sister for help.
"What just happened?"
Azula shrugged. "I don't know, but if Dad's becoming a chef, I call Fire Lord."
"Hey! No fair!
You can't just call it! It's my birthright you...oh, never
mind!"
Zuko
stormed out of the room, muttering under his breath. Without missing
a single angry step, he knocked a pile of papers out of an innocent
bystander's hands and set them on fire. The intern fell to his knees
and looked down at the ashes with watery eyes.
"Why does this keep happening?!"
()_()
=c.c=
( )o
bye-bye bunneh!
Okay so major (and I do mean MAJOR) props to my beta, PhantomAlchemist. I was too lazy to edit this myself and she wanted to finally beta a story so...yea. I think I may have actually sparked a new proofreading phobia or something which is VERY BAD since she is an award winning author (it'll take time to make her admit it though, the modest little scamp...). So thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou PhantomAlchemist!!!!!! :D Be sure to check out her fanfictions which are, unlike mine, well written with a strong plot.
