Mob Mentality, or Why Konoha's Citizens are Smarter than they Look.

This is a poke at the Angry Mob of Civilians cliché you see way too often in Naruto fanfics. If you can't tell…this is written with tongue firmly in cheek. If you want to know what the merchant's name means….look it up on freedict. com, then read it English style (that means his last name is first right now). If you already know what it means in Japanese, aren't I subtle? XD

Snippet the first.

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Ketsunoana Futoi, one of Konoha's wealthiest merchants, was plotting. What was he plotting, you ask? Why, nothing less than an extravagant plan to drive the demon child out of the village of course.

The obese, balding merchant was sitting in his favorite room, a table full of his favorite snacks within easy reach.

"That little demon brat will finally get his, oh yes! When the Hokage hears of the dissent against the demon, he'll be forced to acquiesce to the citizens' demands and have him removed! Or perhaps…even killed! Muahahaha-ack!" Futoi attempted a grandiose, evil laugh, which was ruined by his servant's sudden appearance at his elbow. "How does he always do that? He's not a ninja, I know, and yet he always surprises me…"

"Futoi-sama," the man said, his face carefully schooled into a neutral expression, though his nostrils flared slightly as he repressed his laughter. Futoi had fired and hired over one hundred personal servants until he found one that didn't laugh at his name. "the group of citizens you wished to see is here."

"Ah, of course, send them in." Futoi waddled over to the long table set in the middle of the ostentatiously decorated room. The merchant was of the 'If you've got it, flaunt it' mindset, and wanted to impress anyone who dealt with him. As he sat down at the ornate chair set at the head of the table, a small group of civilians walked in.

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" Futoi said expansively. Gesturing to the other chairs, he continued, attempting to make his voice sound impressive…and failing miserably.

"I trust you have all had a pleasant day? Well, anyway, let us get straight to business. I have called you here to help me rid our fair village of a blight upon the town. I ask for your assistance in destroying it, and I am willing to pay you well."

A small, thin man wearing a rather cheap set of clothing raised his hand timidly. "Yes?" Futoi said breezily.

"Umm…what blight are you referring to? The last blight we had was over a year ago, and we managed to contain it to one of the fields…"

"Why, the demon child, of course! What other blight is there in Konoha?"

"Oh…" said the man dolefully. "I see…"

Ignoring the man's doubtful expression, Futoi pressed on. "I've called you all here, as the heads of your various guilds, to ask you to form a group, hunt down the monster, and though we can't kill it, we can make him know he's unwelcome in the town. If we do this enough times, the Hokage will be forced to acknowledge the fact that we of Konoha don't want a demon wandering around our town, and expel him."

A large, well built man, with callused hands and a sooty apron raised a finger. "Right. Hold on one second, I need to discuss this with the others." Yanking the rest of the men to their feet, the sooty man dragged them over to the corner, where they began to converse in low whispers. After a few minutes, during which Futoi patiently waited, snacking on a stick of dango, they returned to the table, all of them grinning.

"All right, we agree to your terms. We'll get together some of our best men, and do what you said."

Futoi clapped gleefully, giggling in happiness like a small child. Soon…soon! He would have his revenge. That demon brat would pay for attacking Konoha, and stinkbombing his shop, and tying his wife up in the shop at the time, and for stealing his ten year old daughter's heart, and for convincing her to change her last name, and for….a light cough interrupted his joyful train of thought.

"Sir, while you were…enjoying yourself, your guests showed themselves out. They also left a surprisingly well-detailed payment plan. I thought you should know."

"Ahem…yes, yes, leave it on the table. Now, I wish to be alone. Leave me be."

"Yes, Futoi-sama." The servant left the room slowly, treading softly over the carpeted flooring to his room, which he had just had soundproofed. He quietly shut the door, locked it, and burst out into raucous laughter.

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Meanwhile, the same group of men who had just been talking to Futoi were walking through Konoha's streets, in search of the very boy they had just been discussing. As they rounded a corner, they saw his distinctive mop of yellow hair, set off by that horrible orange jumpsuit in his usual place to hang out, Ichiraku's ramen stand.

As Ichiraku Teuchi saw the group of men approaching, their attention on Naruto, his face hardened and he motioned to Ayame to bring out his…[ispecial[/i utensils. He'd be damned if he let some thugs hurt a kid in his shop, no matter who the kid was. He'd never cared much for the rumors of Naruto being the Kyuubi, when it was blatantly obvious that apart from the whisker marks, there seemed to be no visual changes in the boy.

However, the ramen chef was pleasantly surprised when the thinnest, most unthreatening looking man amongst the group came up to Naruto, sat down next to him, and began a conversation with the obviously surprised child.

"Hey, you're Naruto, aren't you?"

"Yes…" the boy replied warily. In his experience, asking if his name was Naruto was usually followed by stuff being thrown at him, and he readied himself to dodge. Admittedly, this man looked as if a light breeze could push him over, and the people who threw things at him were usually fat old ladies with ugly faces, but still, it couldn't hurt to be careful.

"Well, Naruto, how would you like to make some money?"

Finis

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For now, at least. :D