Heero: Duo? Know, I don't give a flying fuck if that dirty rat-bastard is dead!
Heero spits on Duo's corpse
Heero: What I care about is that you're not letting me concentrate on my fucking magazine! I oughta stomp all over your face with my combat boots.
Quatre looks down at Heero's feet and sees a gigantic pair of steel toed combat boots that went up to his knees.
Quatre: That? Hahahaha! Nothing stands a chance to the mighty eastern sword!
Suddenly, Quatre pulls out a very long scimitar and gets into a menacing stance, while Wufei and Trowa are still observing.
Wufei: All of you fuckers are weaklings!
Wufei runs away screaming like a banshee.
Trowa: I'll get you for that!
Trowa runs after Wufei.
Quatre: All right, Heero, I'm gonna turn you into a big pile of bloody slices!
Heero: And I'm gonna stick my foot so far up your ass that you leave a pile of internal organs on the ground.
Quatre swipes at Heero with his sword, but it is deflected off of Heero's steel toed boot.
Heero tries to kick Quatre, but he blocks it with his scimitar.
Both of them look at each other for a moment, then whip out guns and shoot each other in the head at the same time.
Meanwhile, Trowa used his speed of skill to catch up with Wufei and he shot Wufei in the back once... Well, let's just replace "speed of skill" with "Wufei tripped flat on his face one-hundred feet in front of Trowa", and "shot in the back once", with "repeatedly".
Trowa was feeling mighty fine with himself for being a cheap bastard, but as he walked, he was so deeply involved in his own splendor that he did not see the Oz mobile suit ahead of him.
Trowa ended up being crushed by the suit.
Oz soldier: My bad
The soldier continues whistling and walks away in the suit, with a bloody mess of Trowa stuck to the bottom of the right foot.
There you have it, the end to the most pointless situation in all of history.
Note: No animals were harmed in the production of this fic.
