Disclaimer: Square-Enix owns Final Fantasy VII, not me.

AN: This story...was inspired by something that happened while a friend was watching me play FFVII, something that made us laugh until we cried. There was also something that'll most likely feature in a later chapter, involving many despairing cries of "Aiiiiiiiirshiiiiiiiiiip!' That person's not my friend anymore, but we'll always have the memories.

The Turks: A Chronicle of Insanity

Chapter One: Elvis Corpse, Part One

The sun shone over the pristine town of Costa Del Sol as it did every day. The place was a marvel, the magnificence of its architecture dwarfed only by the immense beauty of its beaches, which were also a highly popular tourist attraction. Young women flocked to them in droves to sunbathe on the warm sand, and young men flocked to them in droves to surreptitiously ogle the young women. It was on one of these beaches that our main characters were relaxing, basking in the rays of the sun and the cool breeze from the ocean.

The Turks were here because of a rare phenomena, one that occurs maybe once in a blue moon: vacation. This blue moon, it was the newbie Elena's turn to choose the venue. She hadn't even hesitated to suggest Costa Del Sol. Tseng seconded the motion, telling no one that the reason for this was that he secretly wanted to see his female coworker in a swimsuit. Reno had gone along with it because anywhere was better than damn Midgar, and Rude had gone along with it because going along with things was something he had a particular talent for.

So now the foursome were stretched out on beach towels, drawing nervous looks from a number of tourists who had no idea why these people had wandered imperiously onto the beach and set up camp in the best spot, which had originally belonged to a young couple. The young couple were only too happy to give up their stretch of sand when they saw the menacing and slightly arthritic way Rude had of cracking his knuckles. The Turks were blissfully ignoring these apprehensive stares, however, as this was something they were used to. In fact, one of them was giving a stare of his own, except his was more admiring than apprehensive. Tseng, clad in a white t-shirt and black swim trunks, was captivated by Elena. Luckily for him, she had dozed off, giving him the opportunity to gaze at her to his heart's content.

Rude, wearing black trunks and a white shirt also, and with his trademark dark sunglasses perched atop his bald head, was giving the ocean an absentminded glare. Reno, who had decided not to go in for such silly things as t-shirts, was resting on his towel with his hands behind his head and his goggles over his eyes. A flock of women, ranging in age from early teens to late thirties, and one twenty-year-old man had taken up residence a safe distance away and were eyeing him with a great amount of yearning, whispering and giggling occasionally to one another. They thought Reno was asleep, though of course he wasn't, and knew exactly what they were doing. The attention pleased him no end.

Suddenly, Rude pointed out to the water and said, in his deep, droning voice, 'What's that?'

'Whuh?' said Tseng, startled out of his happy stupor and now trying vigorously to seem as though he hadn't been doing anything. 'What's what?'

'That,' answered Rude, still pointing. 'That thing floating out there.'

'Hmm?' Sitting up, Reno pushed his goggles back onto his head and squinted out over the waves. The crowd that had been spying on him quickly dispersed, blushing furiously. 'Hey, he's right, there is something out there.' He nudged his blonde associate. 'Yo, Elena, wake the hell up.'

'Fnuhzk,' said Elena tiredly, negotiating her way into an upright position. 'I'm up. Whad'ya want?'

The redhead smiled the sinister smile of one who outranks another. 'Be a good newbie and investigate that mysterious floating object, would you?' he said sweetly, pointing to it. Rude was also still pointing.

Elena glanced out to sea. 'Should I even say "do I have to"?' she groaned miserably. 'I think I already know the answer.'

The thing wasn't that far from the shore anyway, she told herself as she trudged down the beach, past hordes of pasty-skinned tourists in ill-fitting swimsuits. Elena herself, much to the delight of Tseng, was wearing a quite attractive black two-piece that left just enough to the imagination. It scored her a few approving stares and wolf-whistles as she made her way to the water and waded out toward the strange floating thing. After having lain in the sunshine for so long, the salt water was freezing as it caressed her legs, giving her goosebumps and making her curse Reno and his authority with every fibre of her being.

As she drew closer to the object, she could see that it was pretty big, about human-size, and a fairly pale white colour. Just as she reached out a hand to grab for it, a wave knocked her feet out from under her and she flailed with her arms and legs, eventually struggling upright once more. Then Elena screamed.

The wave had also swept the floating thing closer to her, and she could see that it wasn't a 'thing' after all; it was a person. A corpse, in fact, with an incredibly stylish, albeit wet, hairstyle. As Elena overcame her initial shock, her expression changed from terror to bewilderment, and she realised that this wasn't just any old corpse - this was an Elvis corpse.

To be continued...