------------------------------------
The Politically Correct Audit
------------------------------------
a Lyakahime ^^ production
------------------------------------
The Phantom Correctness
------------------------------------


It was a dark and stormy night.


Xu: [scowl] "No *way* you are starting this like *that*."


*ahem* I *said* it was a dark and stormy night.


Xu: "Well if that's how you're gonna be..." [pulls out a lawyer]


Lawyer: [slimy smile] "I'm afraid that this opening is unacceptable. Quite politically incorrect. For starters, the use of the word 'dark'.."


Okay! Okay! I'll change it!


Xu: :) "I knew you'd see it my way."


*mutters* I'm the author here; how come I have to be sujected to this?


Xu: [raised eyebrow] "You picked the topic. Now start the fic. You're wasting time."


Fine.


It was a bright and sunny morning.


Happy?


Xu: "Perfectly."


So, like I said, it was a bright and sunny morning in Balamb. Nothing unusual was happening. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, an enormous metal structure was defying the laws of gravity, and albino Moombas were dancing in the streets.


Xu: "Albino Moombas."


Yes, albino Moombas.


No sooner had the large metal structure floated gracefully over to its landing pad, lowered down carefully, and fallen the last hundred meters or so with the grace of a rock than a black, shadowy, fiery ship came and docked with the Garden (for such it was). Satanic music was playing, goths rejoiced in the streets, and Lucifer seemed to be having a conversation with Akio on the bridge.


Did I mention just how evil this ship appears?


Xu: "Yes, several times."


Quiet, you.


As this ship docked, Commander Leonhart was in his office. And what was he doing in his office, you ask? He was upholding the dignity of his position and working diligently at the job entrusted to him by young, impressionable SeeD candidates.


Rinoa: [glazed eyes] "Oooh, Squall, YES! Oh, do it *there*... Hyne... yeah, baby, do it again..."


Xu: *significant cough* "I belive this fic is rated PG..."


Squall grinned at his girlfriend and signed his name on yet another dotted line, this one approving the request for the creation of a new weapon... the whipchaku. "Do you like that, Rinny?"


Suddenly, with no prior warning [unless you count the memo, submitted two weeks ago, that Squall had promptly forgotten about], the door burst open and in strode...


Zell: o.O "Squall! You traitor! You were supposed to be signing boring paperwork with *me*! *Me*! Oh, what a world..." *bursts into tears*


Rinoa stood up. An aura of indefinable power began to grow around her. She pointed one sorceress-like finger at Zell.

Then bashed him over the head with the empty whiskey bottle sitting mysteriously on Squall's desk.

Needless to say, Zell was out like a light.

Unfortunately, there was someone behind him.

"Charachter abuse," one remarked to another. Both wore deathlike black suits, ominously starched white shirts, evil-looking black earpieces... and psychadelic ties. With smiley faces. "Make a note of that."

The second one nodded and scribbled furiously. "Charachter abuse, check," he said, then glanced up abruptly. "And is that a whiskey bottle?"

"Looks like it," the other guy said, shaking his head mournfully. "Underage drinking, mark that down too..."

Squall stood up abruptly, dumping Rinoa off his lap.


Xu: "And just what was Rinoa doing on his lap?"


*innocent look* Nothing.


At any rate, Squall stood up and put on his best 'I'm in charge here and you better believe it because I saved the world from an evil sorceress and I'm dangerous and do you think these pants make me look fat?' look, which differed only slightly from his 'I'm a total wuss please give me a beating and do these pants make me look like a two-cent ho because that's really Rinoa's thing not mine' look. It was rumored that only Seifer could tell the difference. Then he demanded "What are you doing here?"

"Game audit," one of the black-clad figures tossed off, lifting up a lawnmower that was pushed into the corner of Squall's office. "It's been five years since your game was released; you're due for a PC checkup."


Xu: "Why is there a lawnmower in Squall's office?"


) How else did you think Rinoa manages to shave her legs?


Xu: [wince] "Oooh. That was bad."


^^ thank you.


"What's a PC checkup?" Squall asked skeptically.

One of the black-clad men looked up from the circut board he was inspecting. "Political correctness," he said, as if it was obvious. "We're the political correctness police. We're on PCP."


Xu: "What did I tell you about this fic being PG?"


"You're... on drugs?" Rinoa asked.

"No, that's the name of our ship," PCP #1 said haughtily. "It shares its name with our department. Let's begin, shall we? I'm Agent Smith, and this is Agent Burns."

Squall stared at the nearly bald, hunchbacked man who was still hunched over the circut panel. Then, abruptly, he felt a large *thump*. "So that's what this panel does," said Agent Burns said, remarkably innocently for one who was grinning so evilly. "Fascinating. Does that only happen if you press all the buttons?"

Squall freaked. "What the hell do you mean, you pressed all the buttons?!?" he yelled.

Agent Smith frowned. "What happens when you press all the buttons?"

Squall shook his head, eyes distorted with fear. "When you press all the buttons... you unleash the most horrible, most terrifying, most awful thing to exist!"

Smith stared at him... at least, we assume he did, even though we can't really see his eyes behind those utterly creepy black sunglasses he wore. "Why would you have such a thing?"

Squall grinned weakly. "Um... self-defense?"


[meanwhile, in the Infirmary...]


Random Student #1: x.x "Oh, it was horrible! I didn't want to read it... but it sucked me in! Oh the wrongness... alas, my virgin eyes... doctor, you've gotta help me!"


Kadowaki: ( "I'm a doctor, not a beta reader."


[anyway...]


Xu: "Just what was that, anyway?"


) A Saifuu lemon.


Xu: [eyebrow twitch] "You're evil. There's no other word for you. Just... evil."


^^v Thank you.


[back in the office...]


Agent Smith didn't look frightened, because he was far too evil-looking to appear frightened, but he managed to appear mildly annoyed. "At any rate," he said pointedly, "if you're done terrorizing the poplace, perhaps we can get started." He paused, then strode over to the pile of whipchakus sitting on Squall's desk. They were different shapes and sizes, as the weapons makers had been trying to find what worked. It was hard to tell due to the creepy black sunglasses, but it appeared as if Agent Smith's eyebrow had twitched. "Are those... real?" he asked, a hint of incredulity sneaking into that deadpan voice.

"Yes, they're weapons," Squall said, secretly planning to practice that impassive voice. His 'whatever' voice was starting to wear a bit thin from overuse.

Agent Burns gasped. Agent Smith shook his head. "That's going to hurt you on your evaluation," he reprimanded. "Weapons are most definitly *not* politically correct. I'd better not see any more of those around here." He frowned and pointed to the length of metal hanging at Squall's side. "Is that a gunblade?"

"Gunblade?" Squall laughed nervously. "What gunblade?" Surretipously detaching Lionheart, he tried to pass it off to his girlfriend. "Rin, would you... Rinny? Hey, where'd she go?"


Xu: "Just where *did* she go?"


Um... plot hole?


Xu: [rolls eyes] "Real nice."


Squall smiled nervously, quickly dropping the weapon under his desk. "Well then..."

The two Agents shook their heads in unison. "The first thing we require is to see the results of your last Annual PCP Competency Exam," Smith stated. "Your instructor should have it."

"Um... okay," Squall said. He didn't really understand what was going on, but his natural wussiness kept him from saying anything.


Xu: "Is it possible for you to write a fic *without* insulting people every other line?"


Of course. Just read ~Hourglass~.


Xu: "Oh and that was in *no* way a shameless plug."


Agent Smith waved his hand and he and Squall reappeared in front of a familiar second floor classroom. "I believe Instuctor Trepe's Advanced GFs class should have let out a few minutes ago."

Squall stared. "How did you do that? How did you know who my instructor was? How did you know where her classroom is?"


Agent Smith: [deadpad] "As you can see, we've been watching you for some time... Mr. Anderson."


Squall: [confused... hey it doesn't take much!] "My name's not Anderson. It's Leonhart... or maybe it's Loire... or it might even have been Heartilly... I never *did* find out what happened there..."


"Can I help you?" Quistis had stepped out of her classroom, curious as to what all the ruckus was about.

"Yes ma'am," Agent Smith said, turning to her. "I'm Agent Smith, here with Agent Burns. We're from the department that liscences, manages and enforces political correctness in this time era."

Quistis stared. "Is this a prank? Are you here to make fun of me?"


Smith: [deadpan] "No ma'am, we on PCP do not have a sense of humor that we are aware of. May we come in?"


A moment later Agent Smith and Squall were seated at desks in the classroom. Quistis stood behind her desk.


Quistis: [with glasses!] "All right, class, this is the GF Shiva. Her element is ice and her name is a reference to the Hindu god of destruction. Treat her with the same respect I deserve and you'll be just fine. Now everyone pass up your homework... yes, Squall, what is it?"


Squall: [dejected] "Rinoa's dog ate my homework."


Quistis: [Miss Piggy voice] "Rinoa, Rinoa, Rinoa! That's all I ever hear about! Why couldn't it have been *me*? *Me!!!*"


Agent Smith was busily making notes. "Do you mean to tell me that you don't have a boyfriend?" he asked.

Quistis teared up. "N-no!" she cried, sobbing.

Agent Smith frowned. Yes, the master of impassivity, the king of deadpan, the father of all poker faces and the man who was rumored to have taught Squall the meaning of '...whatever' actually *frowned*.

Clearly, no good could come of this.

"That has to be the most politically incorrect thing I have ever heard!" he declared firmly. "First of all, you have the *female* instructor, a negative comment on gender roles if I have ever seen one. Second, she doesn't have a boyfriend! Such a drastic and un-PC commentary on women in the workplace I have never seen in all my days." He seemed positively slightly irked.

Quistis looked up. "So you're going to get me a boyfriend?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course I will," stated Agent Smith, his usual deadpan-ness back in force. "Otherwise you will never pass your PCP checkup."


Quistis: [confused] "But I don't do drugs. It's against my perfect-little-instructor image."


Agent Smith's eyebrow twitched again as he pulled out a bright pink walkie-talkie. "Agent Burns?"

A crackle of static spat from the machine, along with several beeps, a few hisses, and what sounded suspiciously like the mating call of the yellow-bellied tattoed tae kwan bird [scientific name, /zellus wussius in chikinus/].

Agent Smith nodded. "Excellent. Meet us in the basement." And he signed off.

Quistis blinked. "The basement? What's in the basement?"

Squall groaned. "Oh no..."

Agent Smith waved his hand.

Green code filled the room. A hole appeared in the wall. A subway train approached.


Smith: ^^;; "Ooops, wrong audit."


And a moment later they were in the basement of Garden.

Of course... it looked a little different from when Quistis had last been here.

For starters, she didn't remember there being a tiled dance floor. She was fairly certain that loud disco music had *not* been playing last time. And, having had to fight NORG, she was positive that he hadn't been hanging from the ceiling, his orbs and pod flashing through three different colors of strobe lighting.

Agent Smith nodded in statisfaction. "Quite nice, especially in such a small space," he approved.

Quistis gave Squall a Look, ignoring several platform-wearing, afro-sporting Trepies who were trying to lure her out on the dance floor, where they could dance to the beat of 'Jailhouse Rock', currently being doinked out by Tony Tonberry and his Tonbettes.


Squall: [shouting] "The King is dead! Live with it!"


Agent Smith: "No, Elvis is not dead. He just went home."


"Squall?" Quistis asked pointedly. "Why is there a disco club in the basement?"

Squall shrugged indifferently. "Because the swimming pool didn't fit?"

Agent Burns chose that moment to enter, dragging another person in tow. He grinned evilly and laced his fingertips together. "Excellent," he purred.

Smith glanced over. "Ah, I see you've brought the primary candidate I requested."

"Yes indeed, sir. He should be perfect. He's sarcastic, arrogant and evil young man. Perfect for an ice goddess, as you've described Miss Trepe."

Quistis was too busy staring at the guy in tow. Grey trenchcoat. Fire crosses. Scar. Arrogant smirk. Blone hair. Hyperion.

Smith frowned. "Is that a gunblade?"

Seifer started. "Yeah, it--"

"No it's not!" Squall interrupted frantically. He turned to Seifer and made slashing motions over his throat. "Ix-nay on the unblade-gay!"

Seifer grinned and whipped out Hyperion, misinterpreting Squall's gesture as an invitation to give him another scar. "Well, if you insist..."

Suddenly a voice boomed throughout the club.


Voice: ) "Did someone say.... gay?"


Squall slapped his forehead. "Oh no... it's Tuesday. It *would* have to be Tuesday..."

Quistis frowned. "What happens on Tuesday?"

Squall simply moaned from where his head was buried in his arms.


Voice: ) "It's time to pah-tay!"


As if by magic, the club changed. The strobe lights all turned blood-red. The tile was replaced by foam padding. Nude pictures suddenly covered the walls. Numerous chains and whips were rolled out, along with one very nasty-looking Victorian Cross.


Xu: o.O "Woah, woah! Stop the fic. This goes *way* beyond the PG rating! Waaaay beyond!"


But it's part of the contest! Look, right under 'places'. 'Gay bar.'


Smith: "Oh, so you're assuming all homosexuals are sadomasochistic freaks?"


*backtracking hastily* Wait a second, I didn't say that...


Smith: "Looks awfully like it to me."


We can fix that! Yes! Um... the strobe lights turned fluffy pink! Barney pictures appeared on the walls! Numerous marshmellows and whipped cream were rolled out, along with one very friendly-looking Easter Bunny!


Smith: [raised eyebrow]: "Oh that's *much* better. Now instead of being sadomasochistic freaks, all homosexuals are effeminate, wussy and two-year-olds emotionally."


*sigh* Everything turned back to the way it had been, except now only same-gender couples were dancing.


Smith: "Much better."


*rolls eyes* Glad you approve.

Speaking of emotional two-year-olds...


"Squall!" Zell shouted gleefully, flinging patrons across the room in his rush to get to the brunette. "I knew you'd come!"


Squall: o.O


Agent Smith coughed. "Poltically correct as having a gay bar is, I doubt this is a good spot to pursue our cupidic mission. Perhaps we should go elsewhere?" He turned around and promptly eyebrow twitched upon discovering that his companions had already beaten a retreat. "That's not very politicaly correct of you, you know..."


-----------------------------------------------------------------------


^^v so how's it going to far? Not much mushy Seiftis-y goodness yet, but never fear, it's well on the way! Tune in next chapter where you get to see Squall in a goth costume and Irvine finally meeting someone who gets around more than he does... till then! Review me and tell me just how evil I am!


Lyaka ^^