Disclaimer: I don't own the Naruto franchise. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been nearly as successful as it is now. Be thankful and review. :P
Stupid dobe, Sasuke thought, completely ignoring that putting the words "stupid" and "dobe" together was just repetitive, and that as an sulking, angsting avenger he ought to be saving his breath for something more constructive than repeating himself. Like training, for instance. Or writing emo poetry about how his heart was ripped to shreds and he couldn't go grocery shopping because the store owner looked vaguely like one of his distant relatives, or about how he couldn't even remember what his somehow-related uncle looked like, but he just knew that the store owner had some resemblance to him. Letting out a long, gusty sigh that caused young girls and freakishly old women to faint amidst a splattering of nosebleeds, Sasuke mentally cursed the dobe for completely cleaning out his pantry.
Sasuke was an avenger. He did not go grocery shopping, like some sort of mo—maid, he corrected himself, maid. His mother was too angelic, too lovely, too aristocratic to be lowered to such a base and menial activity as grocery shopping. And she never got nosebleeds around him, thank God. He spent the next few minutes angsting over why, why, why his brother had to go and kill everyone he'd cared for or loved, except for, of course, himself and his brother. He growled in rage. Girls swooned, and one of the Haimaru triplets jumped him. Or would have, if not for the extensive training it had undergone. As it was, the dog came just short of tackling Sasuke to the ground. Inuzuka dogs were well-trained; they didn't jump people's legs and—deedle dee bop da dooby dooby dee for the purpose of keeping the rating down, elevator music will be played here du-bop du-bop wa wa weedle deedle de-bop du—
Sick—as in nauseatingly bad sick, not as in anything-remotely-cool sick. Sasuke was going to burn those pants. Right after he Katon'd that dog. Except that he was saved the trouble by the swarming hordes of enraged fangirls. No way he was going to burn those pants now (at least, not here. But he definitely would burn those pants, once he got home).
"Ohmigoshhhhh, I can't believe you glomped him before I could! Pay, you bi—!" Before fangirl #36 could scream out any words which would raise the rating, she was taken out by fangirls #69 and #46, who simply could not bear the thought of her "vile" epidermis coming within glomping distance of Sasuke. The dog itself would have felt deeply insulted, if it could have understood the words of #36. It was, after all, male, and like all males, liked to maintain some sense of dignity—like Sasuke, who had by now found a dark and adequately cobwebby corner in which to sulk about the unfairness of life.
All he wanted to do was buy some cup ramen and go home. That was all! But no—the universe was out to get him. He scowled darkly, but the effect was marred by a particularly large spider, sent courtesy of the universe, which does not like to be blamed for such petty troubles as being attacked by a dog while shopping for ramen which is all you can eat because you have no family and you don't know how to cook and you can't go out to eat because you're stalked every waking moment of the day (and sometimes even during the night!) by freakishly psychotic fangirls and their older counterparts.
Stupid dobe, Sasuke thought, and it started all over again.
Except that this time, all of the Haimaru triplets jumped him.