Disclaimer: All the characters, terms and giant robots you find in the Gundam series belong to whoever owns Gundam. If you don't find them, they most probably belong to me.

One.

Fucked Up Circumstances and Fucked Up Ideas Make Silver-Haired Guys Pretty Fucking Angsty

"I hate that puss-boy Zala. Fuck that bimbo princess," Yzak growled. "I fucking hate 'em!" He slammed his shot-cup on the counter and beckoned the bartender for another tequila. "All this work and quid to promote the military all down the drain because of those, those cunts!" He lifted the tequila shot and gobbled it down with a fiery passion. "I fucking hate 'em!"

His hazel-skinned friend sat next to him, watching him drink himself into oblivion. This fellows's name was Dearkka, and though he too was from the military, he had only the job of patrolling the PLANTs in the name of security; whenever he fancied, too. He grinned widely like a banana, throwing needles of amusement at his crimson faced friend. "You didn't say anything when your mother had you bleach your hair into this freakish vampire colour in the ol' days," he remarked.

Yzak glared at him. "It was voluntary! Can you imagine having purple as your hair's natural shade? Everyone called me a friggin' gypsy in third grade for it… and you were one of them!"

"And I can recite all the names they called you too! Deep Purple, Homo-Jule, Mr. Dazed-and-Confused, Momma's Boy…"

"Shut up!" roared Yzak. "Shut the fuck up!"

Dearkka began laughing hysterically, grabbing onto his stomach as memories from that time returned to him like rounds from an M16 rifle set on automatic. Yzak hadn't given up complaining either, and soon the two of them were the object of stares from the young uniformed men and women having an evening out at the pub during happy hour.

When he was done yelling, Yzak slumped back onto the red bar-chair. "Look, I was serious. If I blow my budget on another ineffective marketing campaign, I'm going to find an unwelcome letter from the uppers on my desk soon."

"Why don't you just go back to being a trooper?" asked Dearkka.

"Don't fuck with me. You know clearly why." Yzak placed his head on the counter, letting his arms fall at his sides. "My wife's in with Zala's campaign."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Dearkka sighed. "That Shiho wouldn't hurt a fly these days. To think a bunch of years ago she was the ace. Women sure are receptive towards makeovers, eh?"

"Damn straight. But mine had to make me quit my job. Just because I carry a rifle and ride a suit doesn't mean I'm going to kill anyone, does it? But no, 'It's not right,' she says. 'We should give up firearms altogether,' she says." Yzak rolled his eyes, though no one could see him do it. "The hell are we going to do when someone decides to send nukes at us again?"

"Or if the Jupiterians finally attack," said Dearkka, wide eyed. "Can you imagine what a catastrophe it would be? We'd be jumping around the PLANTs for our lives like maggots fried on a frying pan!"

"Not funny."

"I try." Dearkka smirked. "You're too rigid, Yzak. That's why your advertisements suck."

Yzak grunted. "I try."

Suddenly, a familiar anthem began to play on the bar's plasma television set. "Speak of the devil, " Dearkka said. "Here it is!"

The advertisement showed a platoon of soldiers marching with rifles in their arms, singing 'A soldier's life is right for me' in C-minor (and mind you, minor scales aren't exactly the most cheerful), then it continued on to a video of mobile suits in a parade, mobile suits being serviced, mobile suits in space and finally, Lacus Clyne's own custom painted mobile suit which was used during her concerts on Earth during the second war. It ended with Yzak himself saying, "Be a man. Do the right thing. Protect our home." and the crest of the ZAFT military.

"That fails. Bad," said Dearkka.

"I know," Yzak said, burying his head deeper into his arms as people began to look at him and giggling excitedly at spotting 'the guy in the shitty commercial'.

"Oh! Here comes Zala's one. Wow, nice chicks," Dearkka said as he watched the flashy imagery playing to the tune of Lacus Clyne's latest hit single, 'P-P-PEACE FOREVER peachypeaceremix!' "I like how they use Cagalli in this one. She's hot."

Yzak only raised his head at the last part, showing Athrun clad in his full body of boyish orgasmic sexiness with a big busted Cagalli at his side and saying, "This is what peace is like. Care to join us?" and ending with a sparkling grin. Yzak felt a jolt in his stomach, muttering, "tit flaunters" under his breath.

"I can see why you're losing soldiers to this," giggled Dearkka. "It's a massacre. Goliath grabbing David by the balls, really."

"What should I do then?" scoffed Yzak. "I don't have a pair of tits to flaunt, and those closest to me have been grabbed by the enemy. Just what?"

Dearkka grinned his banana grin again. "You do look rather… attractive – in a non-gay way, of course. Maybe we can make a few, well, changes to your physique to make you more appealing?"

Yzak looked suspiciously at his friend. "Just what are you suggesting?"

Dearkka reached for his wallet and pulled out a name card. When Yzak read it, he cringed in disgust. "Fuck you! Fuck you and your fucked up ideas!" But Dearkka whistled, and said, "You do have a quota to meet, do you?"

Sighing, Yzak covered his face with his hand, and then ordered another shot of tequila. "Tell me your plan. And it better fucking work!"

Author's Notes: We need more stories antagonising Athrun and Cagalli! Roar!