The Tekkens: Two stories in one.
By: Firestorm Chameleon
Paul's Cousin, part 1
Paul Phoenix, Marshall Law and Forest Law, Marshall's son, where sitting around their favorite hangout other than the Law family dojo—Paul's New York apartment. The Phoenixes and Laws were two families who had always been the other's best friend. They often competed in the Tekken tournaments held by Heihachi Mishima. In the off time, they practiced their fighting moves in the Law family dojo.
Paul had invited the Laws over to tell them some big news. It must have been big by the Laws' standards, because this big news had Paul unusually excited, and he was rarely excited about anything other than the next Tekken tournament, pizza, and his motorcycle.
"So, Polly Pocket, what's this big news you have for us?" Asked Marshall, who had made himself very comfortable in Paul's black leather recliner. He grabbed the remote and turned the T.V. to a Jets game.
"Yeah, I haven't seen you this keyed up since you found out Pizza Palace had the new pickle topping," said Forest, who was lying down on his back on Paul's three-person sofa.
"Well," Paul said as he popped the top on a Budweiser. He took a light slurp of the beer and continued to speak. "My cousin Danny who lives in Chicago is coming to New York for the holidays. We go way back, but haven't seen each other in like twenty years."
"How old was your cousin then?" Marshall asked.
"Twenty one, I think."
"So he'd around forty-one now. Wow, your cousin's ten years younger than you."
"Yeah, we was real close. This is big for me, so I need you two jackasses to act like normal people for once, okay?"
"Did you just call us jackasses, you prick?" Marshall asked, his fierce temper kicking in. He got out of his former comfortable position and gave Paul a cold stare. The expression on Paul's face did not change. In fact, he snuggled deeper into a couch, a different one than Forest was lying on, and put his hands behind his head. The money he won in previous Tekken tournaments paid all of the furniture in his apartment. One tournament, Paul made it to the semi-final round, but lost to Kuma.
"If memory serves me correctly, you just called me Polly Pocket no more than a minute and a half ago, buddy, so we're even."
"So Paul, is this cousin of yours a real tough guy, like you?" Forest was obviously trying to change the subject in order to keep his father's violent temper in check.
"Hits harder'n I do." Paul replied with a chuckle.
"Must be a pretty big guy then, huh?" Marshall asked. "You do hit pretty hard."
"Oh, you'll hit the ground when you see my cousin, let's just keep it at that." Paul said as he took another sip of his beer.
"So Paul, Christmas is comin' up." Forest said. "What do you want?"
"You guys never get me what I ask for. Last Christmas, I asked for a new muffler for my bike and you got me a pair of Mickey Mouse slippers. But if I had to make a decision, I'd say gift certificates will suffice."
"Yeah, we'll get you a five dollar one." Marshall answered in good humor.
"Screw you." Paul answered. He picked up a moldy Cheetoh from the floor and flung it in Marshall's direction. Marshall picked it up and threw it back over to Paul. Paul's reprisal was to pick up a penny from the floor and lob it at Marshall. If Marshall had not turned his head, it would have hit him square in the eye.
"You're a couple of fifty year old guys and you're acting like children." Forest said. It's funny, yet sad at the same time.